Celebrate!

Erin go brah!

For those of you who haven’t a clue what I’m talking about, I’m not telling Erin that she needs to give ‘the girls’ more support….
It roughly means “Ireland Forever”

Why, do you suppose, folks jump on the Irish bandwagon when March 17^th rolls around?
I, for one, always pause and listen, when I hear ‘Tura-Lura-Lural’ and also wonder about this boy, Danny, for whom the pipes are calling.
And, come on! Who can resist downing a couple of pints of green beer?

Okay, I guess I do get it.

It is interesting, though, that people will “tap into” ….no pun intended… the part of their bloodline that suits the situation….

St. Patrick’s Day - March 17^th – I’m Irish!

Cinco De Mayo - Can’t remember when that one is (JK – which is cool teenager talk for ‘just kidding’ in case you didn’t know) – I’m Mexican!

Boxing Day – December 26^th - I’m English!

Etc…

I’ve noticed that my sons do it too. For instance, on St. Patty’s Day, they are WAY into their Celtic roots, which if you do the ancestral math, probably comes close to being the largest branch on their family tree…
but do they cling to that crest for the other 364 days of the year?

NO!
If anyone asks, they are Italian… and they aren’t lying. My father-in-law was pureblooded Italian. His parents came over on ‘the boat’ (not ‘a boat’ but ‘the boat’ - which honestly I’m not exactly sure what that means, like, is there only one boat that comes over from Italy….EVER?) That is the ¼ of their heritage that they seem to hold on to.
Maybe it’s the food, or the cool flag, or maybe it’s just because that was their Grampys birthright, and that they truly adored him.
I, personally think it’s the cool slang…
‘Fuggetaboutit’ (extra points for using heavy Brooklyn accent when saying)…
Oh yeah, and the cannoli’s… one can never have too many cannoli’s!

Parts of our bloodline we may ignore.
No disrespect, but maybe we just don’t identify with it.
(or there aren’t cool slang terms that we can use and call our own)

Some of my Dad’s people were Swiss and as we were growing up, he used to love to embarrass us by telling our friends that his grandfather was the admiral of the Swiss navy, to which most guests would politely reply, “Oh Really?”…
We would cringe, and then feel embarrassed for them.
I’m sure that you have figured out the whole, Switzerland-land locked and non-existent navy thing, but some of our guests weren’t as sharp, and fell into the trap easily.
Maybe, that, as well as the lack of coolness of holey cheese and chocolate bars, is the reason that I usually don’t ‘get into’ the Swiss vibe.
(Or it could be that I am still traumatized from the whole Admiral thing)

I’m a MUTT, is what I like to tell people.
I think that they might believe that I am, in some way, putting my ancestors down.
I’m not really.
I love every little twig on my family tree.
But there is a method to my madness.
I stick with my story, so that way, I can get in on ALL of the celebrations.
All the food, all the fun, the festivities, the lingo… and am I worried that someone might be offended by my lack of foreign flag waving?

FUGGETABOUTIT!