It’s St. Patrick’s Day and I feel lousy. There’s a stomach virus making its way through the metropolitan Detroit area and I’m it’s latest victim. Yesterday I didn’t feel well. Today I’m a little better.
I wanted corned beef but I never made my way to the grocery store. I live within walking distance of two Irish themed restaurant/bars. I went up to Patrick J’s but the drunken people outside turned me off. I’m not in the mood to deal with the shenanigans that arrives with St. Patrick’s Day. Instead I headed towards McDonald’s for my traditional Shamrock shake although this year I opted for the Shamrock shake tempered with chocolate shake. Last year the artificial mintyness of a traditional Shamrock shake wrecked havoc with my digestive system. And, let’s face facts, I’m only now recovering from digestive problems. I don’t need to tempt fate.
I’ve written before about my cinematic traditions. St. Patrick’s Day brings about another cinematic tradition. I must watch Darby O’Gill And The Little People. It’s this sweet Disney movie featuring a very young, pre-stardom, pre-James Bond, Sean Connery. It’s about this old-timer, Darby O’Gill, and his relationship with King Brian, the king of the leprechauns. I absolutely love the movie. There’s one scene, the wishing song scene, that usually cheers me up but I’m afraid there’s no cheering me up today. I’m in a blue mood.
I learned this morning that my friend, Peter, had recently passed away. Peter was a guy I knew from the library. The first time I saw him it was lust at first sight. I knew he was gay but married and kept my feeling to myself. But, after a magical day at the Woodward Dream Cruise, I learned that Peter felt the same way about me but he was torn. We did strike up a major flirtation but Peter was wrestling with demons. He’d disappear and reappear, coming in and out of my life. Last I heard from him, he had moved to Ohio and was working at a local motel and trying to get his life back in order. I periodically go looking for him on social media and that’s where I found the news. His sister had posted that he was on life support back on March 3rd and was going to be taken off that same day in the hopes that his organs could be donated. I later learned that he somehow made his way from Ohio to Marquette where his heart stopped and he suffered irreparable brain damage. Peter was such a great guy, a loving soul. We bonded over Madonna and Barbra and movies and men. He was my friend. His absence will leave a hole. He will be missed.
Non est ad astra mollis e terris via
(There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.)