The Race for the, Guinness

So Sunday I was sitting in my livingroom, reading and wondering what to write for today, when I heard a shout from outside.

"Ohhhh! Ayyyy!"

Tossing aside my book and dashing to the door, I spied a middle-aged man in a green plaid kilt running by the house, making a good pace and giving another militaristic hoot before he disappeared entirely from view.

"Hm," I said to myself. Because, while jogging is popular in my neighborhood, the kilts are usually kept to a minimum....

Not WIND-RESISTANT, ya know.

"Must be something St. Paddy's-related," I considered. A man in a green kilt on March 16? Oh yes, I am DEEPLY perceptive. NOTHING gets by me.

At this point, my housemate called down from her office upstairs. "What WAS it?"

"A man wind-sprinting in a kilt."

"Oh," she said. "Right." Like this was an everyday thing for her. Like once a week Connor MacLeod and his entire Highlander clan came sweeping into her workplace, plaid flying, shouting, "There can be only one!" to a Queen soundtrack.

(Actually, she'd like that. I probably would've heard about it.)

"And here's a girl running after him," I called up the stairs shortly. And sure enough, a girl in a nylon jacket and running gear went sprinting by at full tilt, hot on his heels.

Housemate: "That's.... interesting."

Well, it sure as heck was better than my book, anyway.

I waited.

And I was rewarded by a new actor entering the stage.

"NOW, there's a man with a dog chasing after HER," I added, feeling I might as well give the play-by-play. I described the man with green spandex shorts and a sleek greyhound (not in spandex) who breezed by. It was beginning to look like a "Jeeves and Wooster" third act. But they vanished.

The street was empty.

I started back to my favorite chair, but hadn't gotten far when another "Ohhhhh! Ayyyyyyy!" reached my ears.

I dropped my book and again scrambled to the window. THIS shouting was caused by a man putting some serious effort into his running, and wearing a green derby perched jauntily on his head. A derby which didn't move one bit in the wind, I might add. A ten for balance! A 9.5 for form! Impressive!

Now they were coming in droves. People in green spangled shorts were right behind. Followed by a woman jogging in shamrock-shaped deely-boppers, which jounced and bounced with every step.

Now Leprechauns with emerald green boas!... Now Jolly Green Giants with Chuck Taylors!... It looked like a high-impact aerobics version of a"Let's Make a Deal" gameshow audience.

You know, it fills my heart with gladness that the world is so bizarre I don't even have to leave my house to get material for a post. I've lived here for six years. Who knew I was on the route for a local St. Patrick's Day jog-a-thon?

Of course, this got me thinking about what this jog-a-thon was actually for. I mean, these were not idle runners, just putting their time in for the St. Paddy's holiday, were they? The way these folks were running, something was at stake. A good cause? A trophy? The pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow? The case o' Guinness at the end of the finish line?

How about a free one-year supply of Lucky Charms? (I'd be all over that myself. That stuff really IS magically delicious!)

Or how about some of THESE?

No, no, do not be deceived-- they're not "Sno-Balls," the pink or white coconut-covered cakes of our youth. These are DIFFERENT. These are "Lucky Puffs." Because they're green, donchaknow. The Marketers have deemed it so.

Why change the name of the Sno-Balls entirely, just for St. Patrick's Day? Because "Lucky Balls" would have caused a baked goods scandal, that's why. And "Saint Patrick's Balls" would only be worse. I can just see moms picketing the Hostess plant talking about the offensiveness of snack cake nomenclature these days, and kids having entirely too much fun with it at lunchtime.

Well, I did a bit of online research, and not a single St. Paddy's Day race could I find listed in my area.

Was it a parade which took a strange, Olympic turn? Was it a pub-wide bet after too many black-and-tans? Maybe it was a series of athletic, poorly-dressed banshees on the misty suburban moors o' Pittsburgh?

We may never know.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, my friends! And slainte!

Green beer goes perfectly with a side of Humor-blogs.


Property Pro said...

Cool - Love it - Have stumbled!

Happy Paddy's Day!

Mewie said...

HAHAHAHA... well written funny post you got there. Definitely worth stumbling.

I wish I could witness such an event! In fact, I'd run in it too... lol Although it may seem even more odd that some Asian guy in a kilt was yelling, "Oohh! Ayyy!"

Jenn Thorson said...

PropertyPro- Thanks, and thanks for stopping by!

Mewie- I think if you'd been willing to join in wearing a kilt, they'd've been glad to have you. Everyone's allowed to chime in on St. Paddy's day! :)

Greg said...

You got your very own parade!! How very cool to see a blog post just running by your window like that!

Chat Blanc said...

oh! I wish they could have run past my house!! :) btw, I'm all for Lucky Balls. ;P

Jenn Thorson said...

Greg- It was a pretty startling bit of timing, I must say! :)

Chat Blanc- Men in kilts, you can't beat that! Plus, the LuckyBalls just seem like one of those products you'd be showcasing on your Humorbloggers blog posts. :)

Rebecca said...

How interesting! Nothing like that ever happens in my town, but if it did, I'd be right there in the race for the Lucky Charms or Lucky Puffs! It'd be so worth it!

Me-Me King said...

Great neighborhood there, Jenn! Lucky you, all I get is an occasional rabid skunk.

I just can't get over that Lucky Puffs are $1.15.

Jenn Thorson said...

Rebecca- I was tempted to join in myself. If the guys in kilts had been just a tad cuter, why, nothing would have stopped me! :)

Me-Me-King- Rabid skunk-- oh dear! NOT the kind of parade a person could really get behind. :)

The Right Blue said...

Don't know why, but the sight of those Lucky Puffs made me think: Why not Green Peeps? (Paddy Peeps? or squashed up into Paddy Peep Patties??)