Sunday, March 18, 2012

Happy St Patty's Day

    So, I never got around to writing last night, but I was thinking about St Patrick's Days past.  The most memorable one was back in college, at Penn State, in 2000. 
    My roommate, Angela, and I, and some other friends, arrived at Cafe 210 on College Ave right when they opened at 11 a.m.  I had to stop by chem lab to drop off a lab report first, since I wasn't going to make it to class that day, but we were there to open the restaurant.  It was a beautiful day - sunny, not a cloud in the sky, though a little chilly even at that time of day, but hey, it was March, so for Pennsylvania, we really couldn't complain.  We scored three tables together on the patio in front, right on the main drag of town, right across the street from the offiial campus.  I'm sure we started out the day with green beer, and continued that way into the afternoon.  The place was hopping all day, a buzz in the air with St. Patrick's day celebraters, and in our heads.  We were there all day long, some leaving for a class and coming back afterward, some other friends stopping in between classes, some meaning to only stop in, but "losing track of time" and ending up staying there.  Angela had gone to a class, and returned afterward, showing us her notes that she had taken that looked like a kindergartener had drawn lines up and down the page.  I remember smiling a lot, having so much fun being young and carefree, living in the moment, being surrounded by friends, feeling important and loved.
    I went to one class that day, around 2 p.m., because we were discussing "Silent Spring" by Rachel Carson (which, coincidentally, was written 50 years ago this year).  I remember the walk to class, just up the hill and a few blocks from the restaurant, along a tree lined street, the sun beaming through the branches, lower in the sky.  I definitely had a buzz going, but not totally gone, not even slurring, still in control.  I could hear myself breathing loudly in my head, as I walked I remember the scenery seemed to shake with each step, my green plastic St. Patrick's Day beads jangling around my neck.  This class was great, as always, though I was faintly aware that people might be looking at me funny; maybe I smelled of beer, or they could tell I had been at the bar, or maybe it was the beads, or the shamrock painted on my cheek.  Nonetheless, I recall the discussion of the book being inspiring, making me aware of the way the world was changing, how humans actions had consquences, that I could be involved in making it better, for myself and for generations to come. 
     12 years later, here I am with three little people who ARE the next generation.  It amazes me to think of how much has changed in the past 12 years, who I was then, who I was along the way, who I am now, who my kids are growing to be.  My St. Patrick's Day this year was not quite as carefree as that particular one back at Penn State, but we did celebrate in a much more low-key fashion.  I did dress the kids in green shirts, and tried to explain to my 4-year old, the meaning of the Day - ultimately, he took from it that we wear green clothes and go out for an irish dinner; so be it.  I had a debilitating migraine all morning, but was able to rally so we could take the kids out for dinner at John Brewer's in Waltham. 
     We went early thinking that it would be packed, because years past when we've gone when the holiday fell during the week, there was usually a line out the door, and I did not see us standing there with three kids waiting to get in.  We arrived at 4:30 and it was...empty... crickets were dancing to the irish music on the sterio.  But that's what it is when you have kids - you spend an hour packing (food, diapers, change of clothes, toys) for any outing, race to get anywhere you're going, go to dinner before the early birds, and leave when things are just getting going.  We were even too early for the live music, but it was this rather than risk having the kids out too late and pay for it with three screamers the whole way home (I can only sit in the backseat of a mini-van, squeezed behind Quinn's carseat and between two girls' carseats, singing "Wheels on the Bus" or telling lies about seeing doggies out the window, for so long).  But, we enjoyed it nonetheless, because we were out, we were together as a family, and it was St. Patrick's Day, damnit.  All I need these days for a celebration is a reason to do it, and now I have three reasons to make every day special, three little faces that I just want to see light up with smiles : )

2 comments:

  1. I remember trying not to seem intoxicated in public. The trials and invicability of youth. I don't miss it but i do look back to it.

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    1. I agree, 'Much too young...'; I think back to those youthful moments all the time these days, maybe it's coming of age, feeling older with all these kids now. I do miss parts of it, in a joy-seeking, selfish sort of way, as I come to terms with "aging"; maybe it will help me to be more understanding when my kids are in that stage of naive "adulthood"!

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