Then there's the stereotype of the pissed-off Irishman who's always ready to kick ass at a moments notice. Even Tom Cruise got into the ass-kicking game in "Far and Away". Why? Because he was Irish! And speaking of "Far and Away", remember how beautiful Nicole Kidman was in that one? Yeah, yeah, I know Nicole is actually Australian, but she was Irish in the movie and that's good enough for me.
And as a beer connoisseur, I love to tip back a pint of Guinness every now and then. Although I actually prefer Smithwick's, the darker-colored Guinness is more synonymous with a true Irishman. So, that's what I'll drink. And if you want a drink with a harder bite, you can order up a shot of Jameson whisky. I always keep a bottle in my liquor cabinet. I figure if the shit's about ready to hit the fan, I can knock back a couple shots and transition into the Notre Dame mascot. Think of it kinda like the way Bruce Wayne slides down the Bat-pole and turns into the Caped Crusader.
Of course, there's the music too, Yeah, U2 is the most famous and commercially-successful band that came out of Ireland. But when I think of real Irish music, I think of The Dropkick Murphys. Ok, they're actually from Massachusetts, but let's not let trivial facts get in the way of a good story. Every time I hear "Shipping Off To Boston", I feel like knocking back an Irish Car Bomb and asking McBrawly the Bouncer to step outside. I don't actually do it because, in reality, I don't like to get my ass kicked. But what an adrenaline rush!
Ok, by now I think you understand that I like the Irish. So, let me get to my point......
Throughout my life, I had always assumed that I was part Irish. After all, my Dad had told me years ago that our ancestry had it's roots in Ireland. This was good enough for me, so I left it at that and proudly donned the green every St. Patrick's Day. But last year, I signed up for one of those free two-week trials of Ancestry.com. My maternal great-grandparents came to America from Russia so I knew I wouldn't find a whole lot of Irish ancestry there. Therefore, I focused on my father's roots. His family had been in America for many generations so I knew that I would have to dig deep to make my way over to the green island.
After going back several generations, I finally wound up over in England. Ok, it wasn't quite my coveted Ireland, but at least I was on the right side of the Atlantic. I kept digging, but to my disappointment, I could not find any family members who hailed from Ireland. I was quite actually depressed. Tina saw the look of disappointment on my face as got up from my desk and made my way out of my home office. She asked, "What's wrong?"
I simply replied, "I don't think I'm Irish."
"What are you talking about?", she asked with a confused look on her face.
"I just did the Ancestry.com thing and it doesn't look like I'm Irish", I explained.
In predictable fashion, she laughed and responded, "You really crack me up."
So, here I was, at one of the lowest points of my life and this is what I get for support. I had an instant urge to pour myself a generous dose of Jameson. But it seemed a bit sacrilegious at this point. So, I did my best to put it behind me and prepared to get on with next stage of my non-Irish life.
A week or so later, Tina and I were shopping at Total Wine in Laurel, MD. There was a beer tasting going on in the back of the store, so I instinctively migrated toward it. As I sampled a few of the brews, I conversed with the woman next to me. We discussed IBU's and hops among other things. And eventually, we got on the subject of Irish beer. I knew that this would be a sensitive subject after so recently finding out about my non-Irish roots. As part of the healing process, I told my story to the women. Flashing a comforting smile, the woman, who happened to be black, put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don't have any Irish in my family either." We both laughed. I have to admit, it really did help. I started to believe that I could actually function as a non-Irish American.
But then.......Yes, Virginia there is a Santa Claus!
Last week, my sister informed me that she took the Ancestry.com thing to the next level. She did the DNA test which is supposed to be much more accurate that manually making your way through your family forest. She said that she had just gotten her results back and that I might want to look at them. I was a little reluctant but I asked her to send them to me. As I opened the attachment that she emailed to me, I felt beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I felt like Ralphie from "A Christmas Story" when he was deciphering the secret Ovaltine code. However, my anticipation was rewarded with the best news possible.....It appears that my family does indeed have Irish roots! I could almost hear Maury Povich saying, "The results are in. And Ken, you are Irish!" I was ecstatic! The first thing I did was go over to my beer fridge and retrieve a cold bottle of Guinness. It was perhaps the best tasting beer that I've ever had.
kw
No comments:
Post a Comment