Green is the Way of the Walk. That’s what the back of the shirt I wear on this day every year reads. On the front is a golden shamrock sandwiched by the text “Irish Heritage Club” on the top and “1994” on the bottom.
Jen and I just returned from celebrating the day when Americans everywhere pretend to be Irish. We drank Guinness, of course. First we went to City Tavern, which was not happenin’. Then we saved the best for last: The Parting Glass. Here in Saratoga, it’s the most Irish of bars. There was a live Irish band and the place was absolutely packed with bodies from wall to wall.
Not the craziest of nights (it’s a weekday, after all), but we did our part for St. Patrick’s Day with a couple rounds.
Last year on this day was great fun, too. We were in San Francisco, of course, and celebrated with James, Jessie, and wedding dress shopping. James and I marinated at Harrison while the ladies looked at dresses for Jen.
(Stormy with background:#009900.)
