Dear St Patrick,
I passed a man on the street yesterday who was telling a girl that you killed a dragon and saved all Ireland.
If he hadn’t been trying to get into the girl’s pants I would’ve stopped and corrected him.
Yesterday was your name day but today I have passed not one but three people wearing green.
I wore all green yesterday and today I am green under my eyes from too much Guinness and too little sleep.
I’m a great ambassador for your name day.
But I wonder if you would be pleased by how we celebrate. It’s all very Christian still. We share a hearty meal, we drink deep draughts of the cup, and we listen to uplifting music.
There is, it’s true, perhaps a little idolatry with the worship of leprechauns, but all the poets have taught us that the Irish are very attached to their gentle folk.
Of course, St Patrick, I must admit that we do not always show our reverence, calling the day instead San Paddys, or Paddys, or even, I’m a little ashamed to say, Guinness Day.
I’m not sure if you’d be pleased with the spectacular success of that Irish black gold all around the world on your day; it has reached places even the word of god has not.
I think, Patrick, that if you were here today you would have to slay a dragon and it’s name would be Guinness.