Happy St Patrick’s Day! I was just reading about the man, the myth, the legend that is St Paddy. I used to think I was mostly Irish, but my sister got into genealogy and found we are more Scottish than Irish, and we have a muttly blend of a variety of northern European nationalities. Anyways, St Patrick. I always just thought of him as the guy who was credited with driving the snakes off the Emerald Isle, but I found a story about him I like better. It’s also one that explains a wee bit of the Irish identity. He was moving about the country and came to an inn where the hostess was being rude and uncharitable to her guests. He told her there was a devil in her cellar that got fatter every time she was cheap and nasty. He came back to that inn some time later and the innkeeper was filling everyone’s glasses to the brim with whiskey. He took her down to her cellar and the devil was wasting away from her kindness. After that it became tradition to drink whiskey on his feast day, March 17, the alleged anniversary of his death. By the way, some early accounts of his life have him living to the age of 120, which would be amazing in modern times, but absolutely stunning in the 400’s AD when everyone was slogging around in shit and living until 35. Must be the whiskey! Bottoms up!
Not that I’m picking on the health obsessed among us, but it’s worth noting St Patrick rarely visited the gym, nor did he advocate a morning ritual of protein smoothies.
In fact, rarely do I read an obituary or any account of an abnormally long life that advocates going to the gym or eating macrobiotic super food. The common threads among the super aged, if there are any, is that they stay mentally active, have a positive world view, have a social circle they interact regularly with, and a whole friggin bunch of them drink socially and even smoke sometimes. I will adjust my world view accordingly when I come across a 100 year old guy who is pumping weights with his “bros” and has an alarming pair of gym tits. There, I said it. And gyms have been around long enough to become a longevity factor to someone – there was a gym on the Titanic.
Sadly, rowing was about to become a highly sought-after skill.
Another thing old St Pat did that makes a lot of sense is he used the three-leafed shamrock to explain the Holy Trinity to the people. Most stained glass renditions of him have him holding a clover leaf and also what looks like a lacrosse stick. I’m not sure what the lacrosse stick thing is about, but hopefully it wasn’t around after the whiskey got flowing. In the Surrey of my youth, that’s about the last thing you’d want to see some drunk carrying.
Another odd fact: St Patrick was never officially canonized, although he is recognized as a saint. And judging from other drawings it looks like the thing in his hands might be what he chased the snakes away with, but that’s only a guess.