Summit Up 3-17-11: Where Erin goes braless
Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column that greets you with a hearty Erin go Bragh on this St. Paddy’s Day. Or perhaps in Summit County it’s more appropriate to say “Erin go bra-less.” Who knows? BTW: “Erin go Bragh” means something like “Go Ireland!” or “Ireland Forever!” And you should blurt it out in between sips of green beer later on today to delight and amaze your friends, who will no doubt ask follow-up questions about Erin’s undergarments and where, exactly, they’re going.OK, enough sophomoric bra jokes. It’s just that they’re funny things – kinda like socks, which are little cloth bags for your feet. Who came up with socks in the first place, and were they made out of leaves or what? Things to ponder as we launch into this Spring Break edition of St. Patrick’s Day. MILLIONS OF SUMMIT UP READERS: We’re in the mood, so tell us the story of St. Patrick and the snakes and all that.SU (pulling up chair and lighting our pipe): Well, young ones, once upon a time there was this priest in Ireland, and he would do anything for his congregation. One day, a local woman told him that if there was one thing that would make her happy and more godly, it’d be to get all the damned snakes out of the country. She felt the same way about snakes as some folks in the U.S. today feel about illegal immigrants. The snakes were getting free leech service at the local clinic; they were driving around without licenses and taking jobs away from the local lizards.Aiming to please, St. Patrick embarked on a huge campaign to get rid of Ireland’s snakes. He enlisted all the leprechauns to chase them into the sea, and he got the unicorns to stomp on and skewer any that were missed by the leprechauns. After a number of years, St. Patrick was ready to declare Ireland completely snake free, so he paid a visit to Molly O’Hara (for that was the ophidiophobe’s name) and it went like this:(For maximum effect, please read the following in thick, impenetrable Irish accents whilst quaffing green beer and mowing a plate of corned beef and cabbage):St. Patrick: Well, Molly O’Hara, you’ll be happy to know I’ve gotten ride of all the snakes. It took some doing, cost me a ton of treasure and just about wore out the poor leprechauns and unicorns, but finally we did it!Molly O’Hara: Aaaggghhhh!!!!!St. Patrick: What is it, Molly O’Hara?!Molly: Spider! There’s a spider up there! Oh, St. Patrick, forget the snakes – can you get rid of the damned spiders?St. Patrick (to camera): There’s no pleasing some people.(rimshot)And that is the story of St. Patrick. MSUR: What a load of crap.SU: You’re right. In fact, there have never been any snakes in Ireland, and St. Patrick’s real claim to fame was his beard, which was about the size, color and texture of an industrial kitchen mop. His legend has also been responsible for the sale of over 37 bazillion gallons of green beer and Irish whiskey over the years. Oh, and he did some Catholic-y stuff along the way somewhere, we suppose.So sorry for the embellishments. On the plus side, though, we hope you noted the most excellent new word we learned today: “ophidiophobia” – fear of snakes.Who knew?Gotta run, folks. Please, enjoy your Irish holiday but take it easy and don’t devolve into a lesser mammal that needs to be caged! We out.
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