Yesterday was St. Paddy’s day and for the first time in my life I actually noticed this event. I was holed up in the apartment last year and missed it. My office is on Madison Avenue, one block from 5th Avenue on 88th Street, the point where the march came to an end. From lunchtime onwards tartan clad marchers were trickling onto Madison Avenue and loitering outside our office. At around 2 my curiosity got me off my seat and I walked over to Fifth to watch.
There were all kinds in the Parade, some people were holding banners with political slogans others were just having some fun, others both I suppose. Like most Brits I’ve always ridiculed Americans who think they’re Irish, but the longer I am here the more mellow I have become on this topic. So when I met a 3rd generation Swede dressed in a Kilt playing the bagpipes I felt no mirth. I’d bumped into one of our more, colorful brokers and she insisted we bring him back to the office for a rendition of Scotland the brave. This went as well as can be expected in an office full of brokers trying to make deals on the telephone. The MD ran out of her office and muzzled the hapless Swede (from San Francisco).
Apparently everyone drinks green beer at night and gets completely wrecked. I missed all this but I did see the Celtic supporters club huddled in a ring bellowing and roaring at one another outside the Guggenheim. It was downright surreal seeing such boisterousness in this rarefied neighborhood. I felt a wince of horror, no one in America looks that scary. Crackheads from the Bronx don’t fill me with fear like they do.