Mar. 17, 2004 - 20:45 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

What's a dogie ?

I guess I am legal today, I have (or had) an Irish grandfather, and you know, on Saint Patrick's Day most everybody is Irish or wants to act like it.

Heather and I being a bit under the weather and the day although warm was a bit windy to our liking. So in the closet remained my green shirt and on the dresser stayed my green, plastic, shamrock with Mazeltov in gold letters across the face of it. Oh, well next year maybe.

St. Patrick's Day was always a thing in school and to me and the rest of the boys the sport of pinching anyone not wearing green was pursued to the utmost. As the time of surging hormones arose in us, our targets were areas that were frowned upon by girls. At home we had the traditional corned beef and cabbage of the fabled "Bringing Up Father," Maggie and Jiggs smiled down on our table. Man, did I ever love corned beef and cabbage -- still do in fact. In our closet were a green shirt and necktie, about the only time of year that I would wear a necktie without a fuss. Mom would bring home some of those delicate shamrock pins too.

As it is with the world, I grew up or got larger and added a few years. Every year I would make my yearly attempt to get green beer across my lips, failing each time, Yuck ! I can't account for it, I always loved red beer. That's life I guess, every man to his inclination.

I have a hint about why St. Patrick's Day is so special to me, always. It is the day before March 18th, Mom's birthday, celebrated with what could be afforded at the time. Always a cake and candles for her and usually ice cream too. I wrote her a letter, The Dogie on April 5th 2000. Going on Sixty one years ago now, she died at age of 40. Whats A Dogie ? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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