Well it's March 16, the day before St. Patrick's Day. Tomorrow we'll all be celebrating a day when everyone's a little bit Irish -- and by "Irish," I of course mean "obnoxiously drunk."
This week also marks the end of Spring Break. But where most of my college-age brethren went to Cancun to get wasted, as the ultimate show of pre-gaming for St. Paddy's Day, I went to the Emerald Isle to visit some family.
Yes, I know, it's so hard to believe that I'm half-Irish. I'm definitely not the whitest person alive. It's sad -- they actually have to remove pigment from the paper they print The Cavalier Daily on to get the color right for my skin on that picture on the right.
But whilst on my trip to Ireland I noticed several cultural differences. Aside from the standard "lift = elevator" and "driving on the right side of the road = swift death," there was one change that I simply could not wrap my mind around: There are no Lucky Charms in Ireland.
I know. Pick your jaw up off the ground.
Yeah, I thought they were made there. By bona fide leprechauns under a marshmallow-producing rainbow. But no, there are no Lucky Charms in Ireland. I searched and searched, but no grocery store had even heard of them, and the grocers I asked found the whole concept offensive. Instead, they pointed me to the Irish response to our blatant stereotyping: Yankee O's. The box had a picture of George Washington firing six-shooters wildly into the air, like Yosemite Sam.
There are loads of tiny differences in language too. "Fries" are known as "chips," "chips" are known as "crisps" and "water" is known as "not Guinness." "Me and Siobhan are headed down to the pool to play a little Not-Guinness-Polo," you'd say.
After a while, people got really annoyed with my attempts to adopt Irish culture. They got really mad when I greeted everyone I met with a thick "Top o' the Mornin, lasses and laddies!" I'm not tactful.
But eventually, as I gradually offended more and more of the Irish population, it became clear that it was time to leave and come back to "The States," as they're known. Apparently, the standard for the particular airline my family and I were flying is showing "Catwoman" as the in-flight movie when traveling from abroad into the United States. Attention Continental Airlines: This is not the first impression Americans would like to have with the rest of the world. I'm willing to put some money on movies like "Catwoman" being the root cause for more than a couple "Death to America" chants. The shoe-bomber guy's movie was "Gigli." Coincidence? Doubt it. This guy wasn't a terrorist. He was simply quite passionate about plot lines, dialogue and proper character development.
Movies in general are getting worse and worse. I've got a little message for sword-fighting pirates / Musketeers / Veronan nobility: When you're in a sword fight with your mortal enemy and you reach the stage of the fight where your swords entangle and form an "X" and the both of you are inches from each other's faces, perhaps instead of trying to think up a witty zinger about his pitiful swordsmanship and then pushing off him, you might want to take this opportunity to give him a swift knee-groining. I swear, it'd make the fight end a lot quicker.
And before you start to think, "Hey, the column is starting to end and Eric used a general theme and had transitions to any tangential topics! Maybe he's growing as a writer," I choose to now disappoint you and leave you with one random disconnect:
Dear Guy Walking in Front of Cabell Yesterday,
There you strolled between classes, cell phone up to your left ear and a single iPod headphone in the right. A friend of yours (who was cell- and iPod-less) gave you a hello wave as he passed, but you didn't notice. I'm guessing the discussion you were having about the girl at the party last Friday who was "nothing but a tease" while simultaneously bobbing your head to Nelly's "Pimp Juice" created such a mental disharmony you simply didn't have the cerebral resources to return the greeting to your friend. Others would take this opportunity to criticize you for this display of total self-absorption. Not me though. I recognize that you have single-handedly taken some initiative and raised the bar for toolery. Kudos, and kudos again, sir. I tip my hat to you... my trucker hat.
XOXO,
Eric
Eric Cunningham may be reached at cunningham@cavalierdaily.com.
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