Hugh Neeld: The Curmudgeon Report

March 17 is Saint Patrick’s Day—one of my favorite observances. There are always lots of parades, along with some pub-hopping and other foolishness. I remember when I was growing up, that if you didn’t wear something green on that day, you got pinched. I never understood the significance of wearing green. I only knew that, to avoid getting pinched, it was a good idea to wear something green—a habit that’s lingered to this day.

The person who became St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, was born in Wales about 385 AD. His given name was Maewyn. He studied in a monastery, where he adopted the Christian name, Patrick, and realized that his calling was to convert the pagans to Christianity. He was highly successful and traveled throughout Ireland, establishing monasteries, schools and churches. Patrick’s mission in Ireland lasted 30 years, after which he retired to County Down, where he died on March 17, 461 A.D., the date commemorated as St. Patrick’s Day ever since.

In preparing to write this column, I decided to feature a typically funny Irish joke, and spent about an hour surfing the web. This is one of the best:

“Well, Mrs. O’Conner,” the lawyer said to his client, "so you want a divorce? Tell me about it. Do you have a grudge?”

“Oh, no,” replied Mrs. O’Conner, "a small carport is all we could afford.”

The lawyer tried again. “Well, does your husband beat you up?”

Mrs.O’Conner looks puzzled. “Never,” she says, “I’m always the first one out of bed in the morning.”

Still hopeful, the lawyer tries once again. “What I’m trying to find out, Mrs. O’Conner, is what grounds you have.”

“Bless you, sir. We live in an upstairs apartment. We don’t even have a window box, let alone grounds.”

“I don’t think you understand,” the lawyer said in considerable exasperation. "You need a reason the court can consider. What is the reason for you seeking this divorce?”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Mrs. O’Conner snapped. “It’s because the man can’t carry on an intelligent conversation.”

Tis’ a great joke, to be sure, and we hope it adds to your enjoyment of Saint Patty’s day Monday. In conclusion, I’d like to end this column with a very old Gaelic blessing, author unknown:

May the roads rise to meet you. May the wind be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the rain fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.

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A question to ponder:

When agnostics die, do they go to the great perhaps?

putterhugh@suddenlink.net

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Hugh Neeld is a freelance columnist for TylerPaper.com.

Hugh Neeld is a freelance columnist for TylerPaper.com.
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