Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone! This glorious holiday comes from a long-standing story about the patron saint who proselytized and spread Christianity through Ireland during the fifth century. Some claim he drove all the snakes from the island, ridding the land of evil serpents. Others say it was the glaciers that did it. Still, Patricus is a saint of the Church, and the St. Paddy’s Day icon of the three-leaf clover is an allusion to the Holy Trinity. This celebration has become part of a worldwide Catholic tradition.

The first official St. Patrick’s Day parade in was held in Boston, of all places, way back in 1761 and organized by the Charitable Irish Society. The event has been a part of South Boston’s history since 1901, boasting 107 years of giving 13-year-olds the chance to be drunk in public.

As immigrants, the Irish have a long tradition in this country. According to the 2000 U.S. Census, there are nearly 35 million people in America who claim Irish ancestry – almost nine times the population of Ireland. Immigration began around the late 1840s, when the Irish Potato Famine killed more than 1 million people and sent another 2 million streaming toward ships bound overseas. Since then, the influx of Irish immigrants as a working class has helped build the industrial America we know today.

In Boston, Potato Famine immigration had a striking effect on the city, changing it from overwhelmingly Protestant to largely Roman Catholic in a single generation. The Irish came to dominate Boston first in politics, then in commerce and then finally capping it off in 1946 with the inception of the Boston Celtics (that sly, winking leprechaun).

Evident in songs ringing from our city’s many pubs, a distant tradition is alive in our streets today. As the great melting pot, America has blended Irish customs into our own mess of Americana. We all feel comfortable celebrating their holiday. On one overpass in Southie, I saw a graffiti tag, “On March 17, everybody’s Irish.”

But how America actually celebrates St. Patrick’s Day is a far cry from what it means to be Irish. True, alcoholism is an authentic problem for many of those of Irish background, and all others, but binge drinking on March 17 is no marker for tradition. A friend of mine who biked across Ireland last summer said the drinking culture there is toned way down. Small towns often consist of only a church and a pub, but both are social meeting places, not havens for boozers. They discourage drinking at home by refusing to sell alcohol in stores, and Guinness in Ireland has a lower alcohol content than its exported variety, so townsfolk can drink socially without getting drunk.

So why do Americans celebrate the Irish by boozing until we drop? Americans are known for their inability to drink responsibly, but why is it socially OK to binge? Maybe we are stuck in this super-consumer mindset, and like how Halloween is for chocolate, and Thanksgiving for stuffing and turkey, this is our holiday to consume as much alcohol as possible. It’s ironic how, this year, the holiday falls at the end of Lent, and at the beginning of Easter Holy Week. Just what traditions are being upheld here? Seems to me it’s the American tradition of over-consumption.

But today is for celebration, so cheers, all you Irish-at-heart! May your glass be ever over-full!