Whe my dad and I go to Vegas, we go to the Nine Fine at the NYNY (stopping for a pretzel on the way). My dad was raised in New York and Northern Jersey, it makes him feel at home.

Whe I visit family in New York, at some point somebody does the recital (my term). The list of complaints against the English from the 1600s thru the 1970s. Some of my cousins know this litany verbatim, and can recite it like a prayer or the pledge of allegiance. In my family St Patrick's day begins with mass (and a prayer for the eventual freedom of Ireland from the english aggressors) and followed by enough food and booze that would choke a horse.

I find it a little difficult to maintain that level of intensity growing up in Indiana, surrounded by cornfields. But most of that part of my family still spell my name Erin, and some even correct me when I spell it Aaron. The funny thing is, when I type stuff, I say it to myself, when I type this stuff, I fall ito an Irish lilt.