Guinness | johnozed

St Patrick’s Day in New York City. Been here many times in many conditions. Presently sober, but Bill wants to have a pint after work so we’ll try to figure out where to go regarding that. Right across the street from work is Smith and Wollensky, a steak house where I know they have Guinness. So that seems to be the place to go. Or maybe somewhere else if Bill can think of it. My niece, Corinne texted me earlier (12:20AM) about wanting to have a St. Patrick’s Day drink with me so I’m meeting her at McSwells around 8:00.

I sort of fortified myself with McDonalds just to have something in my stomach. Not the best thing, but it was close, cheap and convenient. And it hit the spot, filling the post lunch salad void. And I only eat McD’s a few times a year. Not as exotic to me as it was in my childhood years, when going to McDonalds was a big deal. I chatted with both of my brothers today, Brian and I texting and eventually talking about our St. Patrick’s Day exploits 30 or so years ago, as well as what is going on in Hillsdale. With my brother Frank it was a talk about TV and movies and an invite to go out to Garfield on Sunday for dinner.

It’s Easter and it’s also my niece Meghan’s birthday. I accepted on my behalf, while Bill got an invite from his cousin Elsie for the same day. I am not sure if I was also invited, but Bill mentioned it so perhaps I was or perhaps Bill was overstepping on his invite. In any event, I’ll be Garfield bound and Bill will be in Stuyvesant Town. Just as well. Spoke to Bill and hour ago, he said he was leaving and would meet me here at the office in a few minutes. Now it’s been an hour. Perhaps he was held up walking across town, pushing past parade partiers.

Well we met up outside my building. Bill decked out in his Kelly green beret and Ireland scarf, looking dapper and happy. So many people on the streets I couldn’t think of a spot to go to, then I looked across the street at Smith and Wollensky. It used to be my cousin Jackie’s favorite spot for a steak. I didn’t think it would be too crowded and as we walked through it wasn’t. We walked up to the bar where the barman asked what we were having. I asked for two pints of Guinness and the barman said in a lilting Irish brogue that they don’t have Guinness. We thanked him and we were on our way.

All the pubs were filled to capacity and others were charging a cover just to get in and spend money. Bill mentioned that tomorrow there would be no charge and he was right about that. So we smoked cigars and walked across town, talking. That was nicer than any pub, just strolling and chatting and smoking. He walked me back to the bus terminal and we chatted some more before parting ways, me headed to Hoboken, Bill to Stuyvesant Town. I texted Corinne asking to move our arrangement up an hour. It was no problem for her and I sat on the bus and finished last week’s New Yorker.

Got to McSwells in no time, sat at the bar, ordered a pint when Corinne and her boyfriend Jonathan came in. Hadn’t seen him since the wedding in June and he looked good, soft spoken, well behaved, after all I am the uncle. The bar was getting crowded so I suggested moving to an off the bar area where we sat and I regaled them with tales of my errant youth. Corinne asked about her father’s past and illicit substances and I played dumb. I had three pints of Guinness, Jonathan had two Corona, and Corinne had most of one pint, then switched over to a Blue Moon which I had never heard of before alcohol wise. We parted ways, Corinne and Jonathan off to Clifton for more merriment and me at home to write this. And that’s where we are right now. Where are you?

Here’s some pictures from the parade and thereabouts this St. Patrick’s Day 2008
Everyone had some green on.

Me!

Party Lasses

A gaggle of cuties

a sea of green ♫

randy gams

Iraq vets

Bill McVila

photo by Lisa Rigoux Hoppe from Hoboken St Pat’s 3.1.08

and for making it this far, a video sent to me from Rand Hoppe

St. Patrick’s Day in Hoboken. At 10:00 this morning there were crowds congregating on street corners. Not waiting for the parade, but waiting for the bars to open, or heading off to parties. At 10:00AM, you can hear various parties going on in apartments, walking through Hoboken this morning. The bagel shop had a line out to the street and most bagels were sold out. I was lucky to get a green poppy seed bagel. And the supermarket was filled with newly of age drinkers, buying all the beer they could carry. I had to go to the library to pick up a book that I had on hold and Diane, the head librarian likened Hoboken today as being one big frat party. And she hit it on the head.

It was packed everywhere I went. Lines out the door into the streets. And all before noon. I got what I could and headed home, for breakfast, followed by laundry. I had a few errands to run so I timed it that after the laundry I could do the errands which was paying the cable bill and getting my new Stevia. It was time for the parade and so I found a good spot on Washington Street to wait. In between two bars in the sun.

I spoke with Rand aka El Jefe and mentioned that he and Lisa aka Lady Gigglepuss were planning on watching the parade. I told them were I was and soon enough they joined me. Lot’s of pipe and drum and bagpipers and kilts. In 35 degree weather which occasionally felt a lot colder. We were situated next to a few guys who I dubbed the Horny Boys. Just because every vehicle that went by they pleaded with the driver to honk the horn or sound the siren or ring the alarm. And the Horny Boys would get so jubilant when the request was granted, no matter how squeaky the sound. It was very funny and everyone in the area had a good laugh every time, including the marchers.

This year the person in the Guinness suit, someone who looks like a big pint of Guinness was on the back of a pick up truck, more than likely due to the fact that Mr. Pint of Guinness has gotten jumped by various drunker parade watchers cum participants. It’s a short parade with representatives from as far as Somerset and Passaic. Some Hibernians marched but I don’t think they had any connection to the ancient twits that run the New York parade. Even though online Hoboken is Gay City, on the street it’s mainly invisible and I don’t think there’s ever been an attempt to march in the Hoboken St. Patrick’s Parade and I doubt there would be any problem, but who the hell wants to march in freezing cold weather? Been there, done that. Next!

It’s now about 6:00 and I need to run to the store. I’m thinking of going down Washington Street just to see what that looks like three hours later. How strong are these kid’s livers? Or their stomachs? We shall see.

I just got back from walking down Washington Street at 6:00PM. Craziness. Now there are still crowds of young drinkers queuing up outside of various bars, and occasional singles and pairs walking all over the place, unable to walk in a straight line. Drunken young men yelling into cellphones, ‘That’s not what I said! That’s not what I meant!’

Drunken Firefighters off duty in dress blues passively fending off drunken young women. Most stores have signs on their doors saying that the rest rooms are out of order, and they probably are. People new to the country, new to Hoboken look on bemusedly and confused by all the festivities of young women teetering on too high heels and young men in green t shirts with thermal tops underneath. Now is the time to stay inside. Plus Bill just got here and I think it’s the first time in a long time that he can be himself. Which means he will drive me crazy in an hour. That was a joke. Two hours at most.

Here are some pics

Before the parade