I can trace more than half of my family history back to Ireland. I went to Catholic school. I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone. I have pale skin with freckles, a natural reddish tinge to my hair and green eyes.
At least they were before they turned hazel. And the red in my hair has become hard to spot through all the grey.
But still, I should be able to rally behind a holiday that celebrates beer my heritage shouldn’t I?
Nope.