I'm not sure why I'm so excited to celebrate the Irish High Holiday this year... maybe it's an avoidance tactic as it is finals week and I have little sanity left. Regardless, I'm feeling the luck-o-the-Irish this year and happy to think of something else besides all the work I still have to do to prepare for finals.
My grandma came from two Irish families, the Murphys (on her mother's side) and the O'Shaughnessys (on her father's side). While the family, like so many immigrants, was forced to change their name (to Shaugnessy to be less confusing) and to abandon a lot of their customs, we still found a lot of pride in all things Irish and would always have corned beef for St. Patrick's Day growing up. My grandmother also gave me the wonderful gift of awesome music. We would go and spend long periods of time with her, driving around her home in the desert of California, doing fun things and listening to random but very cool music like the Mamas and the Papas and Paul Simon. One of the greatest gifts was an introduction to the Irish Rovers. God Bless her, we had so much fun with them. Here's a taste of their awesomeness...
And my fav... Lilly the Pink!
Awesome.
Now that you have had a little toe-tapping fun (I know that I have), I leave you with an amusing poem one of the Irish Rovers said in one of their concerts...
The horse and mule live thirty years,
And nothing know of wines and beers.
The goat and sheep at twenty die,
and never taste of scotch or rye.
Cows drink water by the ton,
and by eighteen, they're mostly done.
The dog at fifteen cashes in,
without the aid of rum and gin.
The cat in milk and water soaks,
And then in twelve short years it croaks.
The modest, sober, bone-dry hen
Lays eggs for nogs, then dies at ten.
All animals are strictly dry;
They sinless live and sinless die.
But sinful, ginful, rum-soaked men
Survive for three score years and ten.
And some of them, though very few,
Stay drunk yet live past ninety-two!
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