Yes, today is St. Patrick’s day, and, like everyone else, I am indeed Irish today. In honor of St. Patrick, I ventured out into my backyard in an attempt to find a four-leaf clover, as I am extremely superstitious, and figure that if I found one I could take it to my local casino on St. Patrick’s day and win a gazillion bucks.
Haven’t had much luck with that rabbit’s foot I have, so what the hell, figured I’d give the clover thing a shot. Besides, if rabbits feet are so lucky, how come it wasn’t lucky for the rabbit who’s now walking around with three feet? Makes sense to me.
Anyhow, I couldn’t find a four-leaf clover, most likely due to the fact that it’s winter, the grass is brown, there’s still snow on the ground covering places where clover would actually be, and I saw a robin frozen solid on the ground. So, my chances were slim to none for locating a four-leaf clover.
I’m not convinced that St. Patrick and the luck of the Irish holds any water. I mean take a look at St. Patrick. He was born in 385 and died in 461 and during his life he was kidnapped by a bunch of Irish raiders and held as a slave. What the hell kinda luck is that!
Then, I guess when he was being held captive and had a lot of time on his hands, he dreamed that God told him to escape, easy for God to say with all his power and stuff, and St. Patrick, who obviously was NOT a saint at this particular time, did escape, beat feet to the coast, boarded a ship and returned to Britain.
So after his slave ordeal, and a bout with sea sickness, (he wasn’t much of a boat type guy) studied to be a priest. As I mentioned earlier, he bought the farm in 461 AD and later on became the patron saint of Ireland.
So that was St. Patrick’s life. Now considering he was born into a wealthy family, he could have chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps. Which was to be a deacon and just live off of his family’s wealth. But, as I mentioned earlier, he was kidnapped by those dastardly Irish raiders and apparently that changed his life. Along with God visiting him while he was a slave and telling him to escape.
Now, not being Irish, I have no idea where shamrocks, leprechaun’s, and that pot of gold thing come into play.
Perhaps leprechaun’s may have been part of St. Patrick’s escape plan, and to thank the little guys, he gave them part of his families fortune in some sort of pot he may have had in his cell. Um, no, that wouldn’t be right. Otherwise the kidnappers would have taken it so most likely the only pot he had was to poop in.
Hmmm. Ok, how about this. He escaped with the help of the leprechaun’s, got back to Britain, THEN gave the little guys a bunch of gold in a different pot and in return, for his kind donation to the leprechaun retirement fund, they gave him some shamrocks. Then he went on to study to be a priest and eventually made a name for himself and became St. Patrick in 432 AD.
None of this, of course, explains how the rabbit’s foot became a sign of luck. Or, where the pot of gold and the rainbow deal came into being.
Unless the leprechaun’s had no use for gold, gave it away to anybody who found the gold at the end of a rainbow, in return for a few rabbits, which they loved to eat, and saved just one foot of a rabbit to keep track of how many pots of gold they gave away in exchange for the rabbits. Keep in mind, there were no calculators back then.
Hey……it’s the best I can come up with for cripes sake. Give me a freakin leprechaun break here!
So, in conclusion on this St. Patrick’s day…..a toast:
May you die in bed at ninety-five years, shot by a jealous husband (or wife).
Works for me….: )
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