27...St. Paddy's Day, tomorrow

Yes, tomorrow is the day, St. Patrick's Day, the Alcoholic Super Bowl and in celebration of that fine fine fine event I am going to have the most Irish Canadian person I know, me, on 93.1 CKCU in the morning from 6 to 7 am.



But wait, there be more. I will also have hangover cures for you all. They are rather lame when one considers the only true hangover cure is to never sober up. Worked for my dad and a series of uncles and aunts and it will work for you! Not the best lifeplan, staying drunk that is, but, on the plus side, you never have to worry about the shakes. For those who are not reprobates you don't want to miss the bunch of lame hangover cures [by lame I mean fascinating medical breakthroughs in the realm of alcohol abuse blah blah and blah] that I have used on air every St. Patrick's Day, Canada Day and New Year's Eve program since the mid seventies.



To ensure that you have a proper hangover to cure I will be chatting with Nat Myles, the proprietor of the coolest bar in town, the ever so hip and retro Elmdale House on Wellington Street in Hintonburg [next to the KFC; across from the GT] about their huge St. Paddy's Day party that will be certain, if you put your heart in it that is, to make your 17th a helluva a day. The music starts at 3 [pm] at the 'dale and goes until, well, late. Very late.



Ironically the name of the band is: Paddy's Hangover. Doesn't that just beat all?

Plus I will play my absolute favourite Irish tune of all time and also that Corrigan Brothers dirge about Obama being O'Irish.

Be sure to listen, and be sure to join me later in the day at the Elmdale House. I will wear my green sombrero with the shamrocks on it to make me easy to pick out of the crowd.



WFDS

16...March Is The Cruelest Month

It is not often that I get to use my English degree, a degree that I obtained, proudly, from Canada's 46th best university, Carleton University, but today is the day for today I will quote T.S. Eliot, a scribbler of poems from centuries past who stated that "March is the cruelest month."



Well, in the tradition of the mighty U of K [Carleton, where the "K" stands for Quality], I of course misquoted Mr. Eliot [thank you Google]; apparently April is, in Eliot speak, the cruelest month.



Who'da thunk it, eh?



I musta been sick that day or something.



To think that I was all set to write a long post about how March is the cruelest month because the weather is cold and then wet and then warm and then, well, if you live up north, way north, like in Ottawa or Winnipeg or Drummondville you know what I mean. Then I was going to write how, depending upon how much you drink to celebrate St. Patrick's Day and how soon you start celebrating it and how long your blackout/hangover/coma is, March can often be the shortest month. Madness.



Best laid plans of mice and men, eh? Best laid plans.



John Steinbeck.



Less than a thousand words and two literary quotes; I will take my "B" please.



WFDS