Still torn between Patrick’s faith and bawdy bashes of the Celts

Country Living with Francis Farragher

I seem to be hit with some quare afflictions when it comes to drink. Most of the time, it seems to be a longing to get my hands on the stuff but there are days in the year, when I have a strong inclination not to go near the demon.

These days include the big ‘set-pieces’ like St. Stephen’s Day, Hurdle Day at the Galway Races, the evening of the traditional builders’ ‘break-up’ for the Summer Holidays and of course the biggest one of the whole lot, namely St. Patrick’s Day.

Our national feast day seems to have come around with something of an indecent haste as it is only like yesterday that we were preparing for ‘the Christmas’, but alas the more mileage that mounts on the clock, the quicker the pace of time seems to be.

Now next Saturday, St. Patrick’s Day will get ticked off the calendar, and at least for this year, it has the advantage of being a weekend date that won’t involve any serious disruption of the work schedule, apart that is from an extra Bank Holiday Monday this year, and that in itself is a nice little sweetener after a tough Spring.

So, why is there this inclination to stay away from the counter area on a day when the most sensible of men (and women too), seem to throw caution to the wind and chance a few ‘extra ones’ in honour of the man credited with bringing Christianity to our shores.

From a historical context there is nothing to suggest that Patrick or Patricius (Latin version of the name) had any interest whatsoever in the local Irish liquors or wines: he probably had little time for such excesses given that we all had to be ‘saved’ following our previously heathen and pagan ways.

But now, a March 17 cannot pass it seems without the shamrock being drowned – often before the dinner – an early morning experience that can have a serious impact on the imbiber by the time the evening Angelus bell sounds.

I’ve been in establishments down through the years where by early afternoon All-Irelands and county finals have been won at the counter; where the country’s economic woes have been cured in the space of three or four sentences; where ballad singers of Ronnie Drew notions emerge from the corners of bars; and where some family ‘stain’ of generations past is brought up in a less than complimentary manner.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.