Pour � Doubles
Processed, Packaged and Revered � Beer.
Money � Pay me.
Prosperity � Because it makes me happy.
In the Air � I feel that every day is a holiday.
Leprechaun � Fantasy
The Entire Day � Don't miss it!
Gems � Studded.
The People Keep it. � Legend has it.
Luck Enforces � Choice
The Rainbow has 'Em � Primary colors.
Like � Magic
Green � Dawning
Luck � Attributed
St. Patrick's Day � Green appreciation.
Pot 'o Gold � Strategically placed.
Corned Beef -n- Cabbage � Kettle cooked.
Sincere Owner � Four-leaf clover
Ide's of March � Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

A Special Saint Patrick's Day message from:

~ Mary Scardino

Michael Collins End of the Hunt

Okay, you don't have to twist my arm. I confess. I've always been jealous of the Irish. After all, they get their own special day. While it's great to see someone hasn't forgotten their roots, even romantic to find this link back to before these separate ingots dissolved in the melting pot, what about the rest of us?

Germans, Poles, Swedes, Czechs, Hmong, Chinese and all the Heinz 57 varieties which make up a Great American stew go unrecognized for their disparate individual flavors. You don't have to step out only in March. Any day of the year, right here in Wisconsin, you'll find examples of the Celtic culture. Some are tacky attempts at maintaining heritage. Then there's Irish's in the city of Fond du Lac. Just across the street from where the old courthouse once stood, now the Veteran's Memorial Park, a square two story structure juts up in all its dark auld sod glory. Straight out of the Emerald Isle comes a traditional pub with its booths just inside the door, long bar with polished brass footrail and beer pulls with raised, oversized handles. Dispensing the good brew; Guinness or Killian's Red.

Show me anything similar in any other ethnic persuasion, short of a German restaurant or two in Milwaukee. Mader's on Old World Third Street springs to mind. Maybe the whole matter has its inception back in my youth. When each March 17th meant if you didn't wear green to school, you drew criticism from teachers for not respecting the Irish. But all that was before I stumbled upon the Czech Village neighborhood in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Though it isn't exactly the heart of Stary Mesto, the old district of Prague, there are touches here to warm the coldest slavic heart.

In just a three block stretch, you'll find Polehna's Meats, Sykora's Bakery (where the delightful aromas of fresh from the oven houska, a twisted bread or kolaches waft into the street) and Zindrick's Restaurant. You can sit down to a steaming plate of goulash or kure paprice (chicken paprika) with a pleasant view of the cobblestone thoroughfare out front. Best of all, I learned, in this city of a hundred thousand souls, a third of which claim slavic; Bohemian, Moravian or Slovak ancestry, St. Patrick's Day is just the start of festivities. Two days later, on the 19th the beer flows red in celebration of St. Joseph's Day.

Then again, in May arrives Houby Den, a spring party crowned by mushroom (houby) hunts, a cabbage race with participants nudging leafy greens down the asphalt with a broom, the East European warm weather version of curling. With that and various other nationalities hosting their annual festivals across the country, who can feel anything else but respect for the Irish. . . for showing us the way? Cead mile failte. A hundred thousand welcomes indeed!

~ G.A. Scheinoha