In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, my father’s favorite holiday:
The Policeman walked out, oh, so proud on his beat, When a vision came to him of stripes on his sleeve “Promotion,” he whispered, “I’ll try for today; So come with me, Mister Ri-Tooral-i-ay.” Come tell me your name, says the limb of the law. Now the trial came on and lasted a week. |
Now, the prisoner stepped up there as stiff as a crutch. Are you Irish or English or German or Dutch? “I’m a Jew sir; I’m a Jew sir, that came over to stay, And my name it is Moses Ri-Tooral-i-ay.” “We’re two of a kind,” said the judge to the Jew; There’s a garbage collector who works down our street |
Of course, this raises the question I always have on days like this: We know what it was like for the Catholics (Green). We know what it was like for the Proddys (Orange). What was it like for the Jews in Ireland? Is this a day we should be celebrating? This is why, if I had my druthers, I’d wear both green and orange, because I’m conflicted. And by the way, this problem doesn’t exist just for Jews: deedeebythebay has an interesting post regarding the propriety of pagans wearing green on St. Patrick’s day, given that St. Pat forcibly converted Pagans (the snakes) to Christianity.