I attended the St. Patty’s Day parade for the first
and only time on March 17, 1970. My friend Bill had invited me to meet him in
Manhattan for lunch and subsequent viewing of the parade.
After introducing me to his co-workers, we walked to
Finnegan’s Bar & Grill. The place had door-to-door and wall-to-wall people
all ordering corned beef and cabbage with green beer. We made our way to the
back room and savored our traditional Irish meal. After eating, we ventured out
into the cold and blustery NY air and walked to 5th Ave. bucking the
wind all the way. The parade looked in full swing with the Ancient Order of
Hibernians in their green Fedoras and New York’s finest NYPD in full dress blue
uniforms. They marched along the green stripe painted by the city down the
center of 5th Ave.
Too
cold to stand for long, we ambled up the avenue until Bill said “Let’s stop in
here to warm up.” We entered a very crowded bar where everyone in a jovial mood
invited us to imbibe with them. We obliged. After “warming up” we left the bar
to see the rest of the parade. Somehow we had accumulated a group of eight to
ten people who accompanied us. A block or two later, we decided to “warm up”
again in another bar. This process repeated itself for the rest of the
afternoon.
At
four o’clock someone suggested we all go for coffee.
“Oh,
I’d love a cup of coffee,” I said. Knowing I had to drive home from Queens, I
needed to counter the effects of all the alcohol I drank.
So
the group of us (and it seemed to have grown), trudged to another bar and
grill. The waiter ushered us downstairs to a large crowded room with long
tables.
“Coffee
all around?” Bill asked.
“Yes,
Yes.” We echoed.
When
the coffee arrived, I warmed my hands on the cup and took a welcomed sip only
to realize that he had ordered “Irish Coffee.” A generous shot of whiskey with a
liberal layer of cream adorned the miniscule amount of coffee.
“I
think I’ll have tea,” I said.
