Guess what? I’m not Irish. Thank God for that. Everywhere you turn these days there’s someone claiming to be Irish. Sarah Palin’s Irish. Diane Sawyer is Irish. Rosie O’Donnell is some kind of queer Irish. Soledad O’Brien is Irish (but she has a great tan).
What’s the big deal about being Irish? It’s like some kind of club where potato recipes are exchanged for alcohol.
Bill and I went to Ireland during his first term as president. What a hoot. After all the pleasantries and meetings, member of the Irish government took us to see Riverdance. What a terrific show.
Bill got to use the official Riverdance whistle. He would blow the whistle and everyone would begin dancing. Then, he’d blow it again, and everyone would stop dancing, but they each had to strip off one piece of clothing.
Well, it didn’t take long and all the dancers were down to their underwear, and Bill kept blowing that damned whistle, again, and again.
Pretty soon the dancers were bouncing up and down all stiff legged. Except all their legs weren’t stiff.