2/22/08

“Wow, you sure have gotten cute, my little sweet pea. Have you grown since the last time I’ve seen you, dear?” Puzzled by this question from a woman I’ve never seen much less spoken to before, I nodded politely instead of calling her out on having no idea who I was. A glass of beer in her grip, and probably several more sloshing around in her belly, she was taking part in a St. Patrick’s Day celebration along with what seemed like every other member of her Irish family.

When one of my friends invited me to a bonfire on St. Patrick’s Day a few years ago, for some reason I pictured a different image. I didn’t think anything of the fact that her whole family comes from an Irish descent, and I only thought of roasting marshmallows and weenies around a huge fire, chatting with my other buddies that were supposed to be coming. Little did I know I would be in a room for part of the night with a horde of adults guzzling down alcoholic beverages and making complete imbeciles of themselves. I saw more beer consumption in my few minutes inside that kitchen than I’d ever seen in a comedy targeted towards a teenage audience.

If nothing else, it was entertaining to see my friend’s parents, aunts, uncles, and other members of the family intoxicate themselves. Walking around semiconscious most of the night, the older crowd often said things that normally shouldn’t be said to the younger folks at the party. Women were offering seven-year-olds a drink of their beverage, if not a whole mug full, and men were heard exclaiming how badly they needed to hurl everything they ate for the past week while playing the sloppiest game of darts I’ve ever witnessed. And, of course, all the adults believed everyone in the house was a part of their family.

I am aware that the stereotypical Irish person would be someone that gets inebriated at special events, or even for no reason at all, but never would I come to the conclusion that so many six packs of beer could be downed by a group of adults. On the plus side to the event, no fights occurred. To me, another stereotype of drunk Irish folk is that they would drink till their bladder was about to explode, someone would make a comment about their mother, they would take offense to it, and a brawl would ensue. This did not happen at the party I attended, but there sure were a load of cases of the giggles going around.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe in all stereotypes, or that all people from an Irish descent are drunkards. In fact, I think it is fairly obvious that I don’t since I wasn’t expecting that much alcohol from an Irish family at a St. Patrick’s Day party. I do, however, believe that stereotypes must come from somewhere, otherwise there would be no way we could make these assumptions. That is, if all African Americans are athletic, then the idea must have come from the fact that there are many black athletes. If all Asian Americans are smart, then there probably are plenty of intelligent Asians. For the Irish, this stereotype just may have come from my friend’s family, the ultimate alliance of drinkers.