There's a Hoffman home movie someplace of me with a towel draped over my shoulder tartan-style, spinning around and around in my best version of an Irish Fling (Scottish, Irish, it was all the same to me at that age). But whatever it was, I loved it, and being born so close to St. Patrick's Day gave me some sense of entitlement to being in fact Irish. (Truth be told, I'm far more Hungarian than anything else definitive, but I was excited to find out I do have a tiny percent of the Emerald Isle in me.)
I used to hunt avidly for 4-leaf clovers in the school yard. I envied my best friend for her luscious red hair. And even though that atrocious Banshee scared me senseless, I loved watching "Darby O'Gill and the Little People," and when the pre-Bond Sean Connery with eyebrows you'd need a license to shoot sang "Pretty Irish Girl," my young-girl heart was all a pitter-patter.
St. Patrick's Day may be the most overlooked "major" holiday in this country, but I still love it. I can't wait to have my corned beef, potatoes and Irish soda bread! And the annual birthday cheesecake... That part's not very Irish, I suppose.
Anyway, happy March everyone!