A big dump turned our old, jaggedy gray snow all new and smooth and white again, which counts for some kind of redemption at this time of winter, if not cause for celebration.
An old truism goes that on any job, the first 90 percent of work takes the first 90 percent of time and the last 10 percent of the job takes the other 90 percent of the time. The same is true of Alaska in mid-March: There’s only 90 percent more winter to come.
It needn’t be so bleak.
People all over the world celebrate St. Patrick’s Day on March 17 with parades, parties, drinks, green everything and a dinner with salt enough for a pretzel factory. Bars stay open late and “The Unicorn Song” and “Danny Boy” play until no one wants to hear them again for at least another year.
In the old Catholic cities east of the Mississippi, St. Pat’s is a bigger bacchanal than Mardi Gras. At college in Milwaukee in the early 1980s, a philosophy professor told us on March 16, “You can come to class tomorrow if you like, but I won’t be here. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
Bars served up black-and-tans, redheads drew shamrocks on their cheeks and dudes wore hats and T-shirts printed emblazoned with expressions like, “Patrick was a saint. I ain’t.”
In Chicago, city officials turn the river Kelly green. In Oshkosh, the kids riot. It’s all in good fun. I remember pushing a dead car through downtown Milwaukee around 6 a.m. on March 18, exhausted. Remarkably, the junker had gotten us 80 miles to Rush Street and back before dying a few blocks short of our apartment.
Must have been the luck of the Irish.
Our town does nothing special for St. Patty’s, which is a shame. It’s the time of year when we most need a party.
The folks down at Lynn Canal Conservation could make it work for them and for the rest of us. “Celebrate the Green,” and all that. They could partner with downtown bars and businesses. Organize a parade. Hand out drafts of green beer. Give kids green cones and milk shakes.
Haines could be the place in Alaska to spend St. Pat’s, on the scale of Alaska Day in Sitka or Little Norway Festival in Petersburg. We’re already the home of the greenies. Why not demonstrate a sense of humor while turning a buck on our reputation?
A couple folks with spray bottles of green food color could whip up some Green Giant snowmen. We could toast the McWillards and the O’Hotches. Restaurants could offer green eggs and ham breakfasts.
The legislative folks down in Juneau badly needing an escape from each other would likely descend on us. After a wild enough time here, they just might remember Haines when they’re doling out money in May.
St. Patty’s would be a cinch. The rituals, the music, the souvenirs are already there. It’s the Macarena of holidays. Everyone can do it. God knows our wild step-sister Skagway once pulled off a “UFO Festival.” But we’re new at this, so it might take a few years for the Fighting Presbyterians to learn to boogie.
For reasons not clear, we throw our best parties in summer when there are a lot of other things to do. Partying maybe is better saved for the dark, wet months, when life here is toughest.
St. Pat’s could be a celebration of almost bagging another Alaskan winter, raising spirits and building camaraderie at a time of year when we’re usually just starting to turn against each other.
Haines Chamber of Commerce, are you listening? Erin Go Bragh, man.