Adam and Derrick celebrate St. Patrick’s day at one of Tacoma’s favorite Irish pubs: Doyle’s.
One of the best things about being an American is the shameless appropriation of other cultures’ holidays. Whether it’s sucking down a cool margarita on Cinco de Mayo, pounding a Marzen at Oktoberfest, or throwing back a Guinness on St. Patrick’s day Americans love getting loaded in honor of cross-cultural celebrations. And why not? Thanks to many of our ancestors’ non-discriminatory romantic proclivities, any given person’s potential for Irish blood in this American “melting pot” (or “salad bowl” as it is more recently being referred to) is just high enough that we can all say “hey, I’m probably a little bit Irish according to my grandmother….or was it my grandfather?”
“Kiss me, I’m potentially Irish.”
Today everyone’s a little bit Irish. We happily promote stereotypes by way of consuming mass quantities of meat, potatoes and Guinness, surely making the world outside Ireland jealous of our pseudo heritage – even our beer is green with envy. This St. Paddy’s Adam and I celebrate the only way we know how, at Doyle’s public House.
