Friday, March 17, 2006

Unhappy St Patrick's Day

The Vol-in-Law is from Northern Ireland originally - but he's not from the saint's day celebrating side of the divide. There's no wearin' o' the green, or drinkin' o' the green beer, or top o' the mornin' for him.

No o'anything actually, he boycotts the whole St Patrick's day hoopla.

I am going out tomorrow to a local Irish pub to celebrate St Patrick's Day with the Texan - I'll take any excuse for a knees-up (Brit-speak for drinking yourself stupid). The Vol-in-Law will be staying at home, I reckon.

Usually Vol Mom sends him a Happy St Pat's day email message - just to get his goat. None so far - but the day's still young (at least in Tennessee). Just for the Vol-in-Law, though, I'll pass along a little poem that has cultural resonance for him - and should be a stern warning to all men who think of doing their poor wives ill:

The Ballad of William Bloat

In a mean abode on the Shankill Road
Lived a man named William Bloat;
He had a wife, the curse of his life,
Who continually got his goat.
So one day at dawn, with her nightdress on
He slit her bloody throat.

With a razor gash he settled her hash
Never was crime so slick
But the drip drip drip on the pillowslip
Of her lifeblood made him sick.
And the knee-deep gore on the bedroom floor
Grew clotted and cold and thick.

And yet he was glad he had done what he had
When she lay there stiff and still
But a sudden awe of the angry law
Struck his heart with an icy chill.
So to finish the fun so well begun
He resolved himself to kill.

He took the sheet from the wife's coul' feet
And twisted it into a rope
And he hanged himself from the pantry shelf,
'Twas an easy end, let's hope.
In the face of death with his latest breath
He solemnly cursed the Pope.

But the strangest turn to the whole concern
Is only just beginning.
He went to Hell but his wife got well
And she's still alive and sinnin',
For the razor blade was German made
But the sheet was Belfast linen.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

After all that, guess who went with the Vol & the Texan to the super-Irish Tir Na Nog pub on Garratt Lane last night to celebrate St Pat's a day late, and saw Ireland beat England at the rugby? :)
Ireland played with great heart and definitely deserved to win a hard-fought game, I was rooting for them at the end and was happy to be informed by a pub resident afterwards that the Ireland team was 32-counties, so I could support them without betraying the auld cause. :)