This past weekend, I went over to Penn’s Landing for the Annual Irish American Festival, which is a good name for a gathering that had few true Irishmen and women, but plenty of Americans–of all shapes and sizes–decked out in the old green, drinkin’ beer and clapping along to Irish music provided by American bands
and other stuff we Americans can’t seem to get enough of. I almost
put out 20 bucks (which would have been 26 euros over there) for a
t-shirt but decided I needed a drink more…which led me to a girl
who told me that the cold water was free! Seriously, in this kind of
humidity, water beats beer. True Story.
Anyway, you could tell who the real Irish were just by looking:
they were fair, many red-headed, and looked really, really hot
and not in a good way. It’s never like this in Ireland, one of them
told me, and I knew she was right. Of course, they hardly ever see
the sun, so I guess that’s the tradeoff.
And not everyone knew where they were…
A LOT of waiting…
You could buy a number of “Irish Must Haves:”
What can I say? Only in Philly…