Some wearing of the green.

 We recently passed another milestone on the calendar, a holy day for some of us of Irish heritage; good old St. Patty's Day!

My memories run very favorable as it was a celebration day in our family, at our school and community, one brimming with happiness for residents of Irish descent.

Our elementary school made it a big event, decorative school rooms all loaded with cardboard shamrocks and images of leprechauns with their pot-o-gold and everyone expected to show some wearing o' the green, even the Italian and Polish kids were Irish every March 17th.

Our school would have an evening program where all family members and friends were invited to attend.  A small auditorium packed with revelers invited to sing along as the students would take the stage doing assorted Irish skits, dancing the jig and singing Danny Boy.

I even got to sing along as a member of an Irish quartet belting out songs like Molly Malone, My Wild Irish Rose, Harrigan and our all time favorite Mrs. Murphy's Chowder (second favorite after Danny Boy. Having to say that to avoid being doxed by the Irish Community).

I often think back to my Irish ancestors wondering how difficult it must have been for them coming to America with all their hopes and dreams as the early generations struggled living in poverty, in shanty towns, working in the coal mines of Shenandoah and Tamaqua Pennsylvania knowing that dreams for their future generations would be better than what they experienced and giving their sons and daughters the hope to begin moving forward in a land that truly provided that opportunity.

As I age, I understand more of why my Irish mother would not denigrate her heritage but would insist that we think of ourselves as Americans first and foremost, and leave the past to rest because that is what she was taught by her ancestors.

These Immigrants believed that their future was in this promised land and we all needed to embrace flying the American flag proudly, perhaps displaying some green on St Pat's Day and singing the Nation Anthem loudly...and on the 17th maybe some Danny Boy.

Our ancestors believed in assimilation, working hard, learning the language and believing in contributing to the betterment of their new land.

Yes they wore and still wear some green of St Patty's Day, but the red, white and blue year round. 

Hopefully all immigrants do likewise.

It's all about the evil K word

It's Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Lenten season as all dutiful Catholics flock to church to have their foreheads marked with ashes, in the sign of the cross, to signify their mortality and to show your buddies from yesterdays Fat Tuesday celebration that you're sorry for whatever you did last night...and maybe you're trying to change and won't repeat this behavior until next Fat Tuesday, promising God confession for this Saturday.

Ashes are usually placed on the forehead in the sign of the cross, but sometimes the person doing the application is not as skilled as others. The woman who applied mine today was quite short in stature, barely able to reach the head of a six-footer. 

I had to almost touch my toes or she would have anointed my navel. 

I didn't receive a cross, mine was just a large dot with her thumb print.

I just thought that since I was third in line she had not been able to hone her ashes skills but I watched the rest of the congregation in her line and she really had not improved.

I don't believe I saw any crosses, mostly dots, smears and commas.  I even believe I saw a question mark or two.

I any case, after Mass I was able to shop at the local Mennonite supermarket occasionally being told I had dirt on my head by kindly old ladies wearing nets on theirs.

It's customary for Catholics to "give up" something during the Lenten season. There are the usual's, candy, alcohol, smoking, not using obscene hand gestures in traffic, the list can be endless.

I quit smoking over 30 years ago, no alcohol since my AFIB diagnosis 6 years ago, candy is not really an issue but there are many other vices, too numerous to mention, that I could apply this year.

It's not uncommon to choose something that may be too easy to forego, items already avoided on a regular basis; Liver, Rap music, your crazy relative with Trump Derangement, that list too is endless.

Over a year ago my considerate, but insane wife, came up with a brilliant idea. We would watch this documentary she heard about called "Forks over Knives". In a nutshell, you give up all foods that taste good and begin a life style that will allow you to exist far beyond that of mortal men.

Just think you get to consume an endless number of tasteless delicacies and convincing yourself they are absolutely delicious while you exist for more years than Methuselah.

I think this was the original model for Hell, if not Purgatory.

Goodbye pizza, cheese, ice cream, chips, pretzels, cakes and pies...hello rice and beans, fruits and vegetables and more than enough flatulence to clear a neighborhood Christmas party.

But after all, I am told its beneficial to my Endothelium , I don't know what that is but my wife uses that word like a mantra.

Well she has been about 99.9% successful thus far..me about 75/25.

I am not telling you percentage-wise which is which, but pepperoni pizza, Freddy's custard or a good Philly cheesesteak do call to me on occasion. 

And how does one even exist without these...that in itself is sinful.

Our Popes know about sin and they have been mostly Italian because they know the best foods are Italian. The current Pope is from south of the boarder..but tacos are good too!

I now eat more fruits and vegetables than before, even salads.

The one green I still have yet to even consider is Kale, a horrid filthy weed that is not fit for human consumption, and touted by the Endothelium cultists as the most beneficial green one could ingest, even though its completely indigestible.

You can fry it in bacon grease, smother it with cheddar cheese and onions and serve it up on an everything bagel on top of an Angus burger, down it with a Yuengling lager, and a side order of fries and it would still taste like green gritty dirt...a green gritty dirt burger!

Most people are unaware of Kales blemished history.

This is how I heard it:

Many millenniums ago God walked into a bar (yes he drinks wine, ask his son if you don't believe me) and in a far corner he spots an inebriated Satan, in his usual state of being.

Satan challenges God to an arm wrestle for his booze as he is out of money and in need of some more scotch.

Well of course God wins every game and Satan, drunk out his mind, begins a tirade of how God owns everything and Satan has nothing and if he was really benevolent he would give him something he can control. 

God pondered it for a moment and told Satan he could have control of a vile weed that grows plentiful on the earth.  It's called Kale which is an acronym for Kills All Life's Enjoyment.

Instantly a light bulb goes off in Satan's brain how he could gather it up and sell it all the while convincing the gullible how beneficial it is to their well being, just like he does when he promotes Hollywood, Social Media and the Disney channel.

There will be those well intentioned folks, like RFK jr., the Forks over Knives crowd and my wife who are truly trying to help but when in comes to kale they are partnering with spiritually evil forces beyond their control. 

So I am glad I recalled that story and now know what I will be giving up for lent...Kale it is.