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Wee bit of ‘green’ couldn’t buy any green beer, so just tip your wee Irish hat to karaoke

On Irish funny money (can they buy green beer?) and other St. Patrick’s Day abnormalities, which become normal except for 364 days a year, (OK I know that Leap Year skewers it).
— A woman who won a local costume contest, in part because of her wee little bit of a green Irish top hat, smaller than an Irish clenched fist, was asked what she would do with her pot of gold, now that she’d won first prize? Even when combined with her funds leftover at the end of the night, that wee little bit would not get you far, she replied. The few bills she had remaining were Irish funny money that was white with no green tint whatsoever, clipped with a scissors and given to patrons.
— Another friend brought out to Green Mill karaoke on St. Patrick’s Day, after playing it heavily at home, a couple of CDs that included “28 Irish Pub Songs,” which if you can count that high for one drink per song, is fitting for singing — after all, this is a pub-like grill and bar. On this CD is a plinky instrumental of “Whiskey in a Jar-O,” (which was mentioned previously on this web page), not the rock-out version by Metallica. Those were the stylings sang by friend and former karaoke-meister Dave later at The Mill. The more traditional version was brought to mind later in the evening by someone I know who I swear has to be at least 120 percent Irish! He called late, better than never, about getting together for Irish song fests both here and down yonder in Milwaukee.
— A young guy (still wearing green) who was starting early — or continuing — early on the Friday after St. Patrick’s Day, said that on these holidays amongst his friends, this style of surrendering for a few days a sane schedule is so persistent it’s “straight through.” One of them (just green shoes) lended credence to that, he said, when buying another beer while the one she already had was only half empty. (Or half full?)
— Down the street at Emma’s in River Falls on St. Patrick’s Day, some off-sale liquor bottles still contained the cardboard tag of a “Christmas” special, with the price printed inside a picture of a circular wreath. I think that kind of “green” is the wrong holiday.

— A North Hudson bartender who has been on that job for a few months said that a prior stint was at an Irish Pub in the St. Paul area, adding that a longtime regular customer there had reached out and tried to renew acquaintances, just in time for St. Patrick’s Day. When Irish Eyes are Smiling …
— Bartender Emma just got back from Daytona, and on the wall at her place of work is a tongue-in-cheek flyer that says Hurricane Evacuation plan, an exit that consists of two steps: Buy beer, then get the hell out of town. I’m assuming these things are related. And the Irish would be proud.
— Peyton Manning may or may not be Irish — his hair has become too thin to tell — but has retired, and likewise, I have not seen his lookalike who used to hangout at Guv’s Place since the days it was in Houlton. OK, the local guy looked a little older and thinner then the five-time MVP quarterback, but there still was a resemblance, especially earlier on, when it was Manning’s heyday.

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