A Wee Bit Of A Visit From Horatio

 

 

     

     They say that on Saint Patrick's Day, everyone is Irish for a day.  So I shouldn't have 

been surprised when my little thespian friend, and sometime model, Horatio, stopped by

to say "Top o' the mornin' to ye, Patrick!".  He was clearly aware of the permanence of 

my middle name, whereas the middle initial H, in his name, always seems to stand for a

different name, every time he comes by.  On this visit, he suggested that I must attach a

special significance to the fact that my name is so identifiable with the holiday, but that is

contrary to my own feelings.

     I was born at a time when it was most common for for newborns to be named after

their parents or their parent's siblings.  When I came along, my father's name had already 

been attached to his firstborn son, so I was given the full name of one of my uncles, saints

and all.  In the era when my parents were born, babies were named after as many saints

as possible, presumably in the hope that some of that saintliness would rub off, in the 

good behavior of the growing children.  I told Horatio, that I couldn't say that having a 

couple of saints in my name had ever elevated my life, to a higher degree of influence 

for a better world.  But on Saint Patrick's Day, perhaps I'm entitled to have an extra 

pint or two of Guinness.

     I complimented Horatio on his shamrock hat and his authentic, clay pipe, and I

inquired if he was planning on appearing in an Irish role soon.  (Knowing his sensitivity

to the question of his height, I didn't ask if he was planning to play one of "the little

people".)  He said that there had been some discussion, at the quadruped playhouse,

of reviving one of G.B. Shaw's classics, but he didn't say what part he would be 

playing.  

     As I was doing a quick sketch of him, Horatio said that he wouldn't be staying

long, because he wanted to hurry off to visit more friends, and offer them all a bit of

Saint Paddy's Day cheer.  So, I didn't detain him very long.  We are all in need of 

some good holiday cheer, in these days of isolation and mourning.  I wished him a

fond farewell, and watched him hurry off to make his rounds of spreading cheerful,

Saint Patrick's Day greetings.

     If this year had been a normal one, this would have been the day to traditionally

gather 'round the fire, and raise our glasses, in familiar toasts to the good health of

our families, friends and loved ones.  "May the road always rise to meet you, and 

may the wind be always at your back !", is one of the more frequently offered toasts,

to express the hope that our life's journey will not be overly difficult.  And then the

familiar toast about coming to the end of our journey, "May you be in heaven, a half 

hour before the devil knows you're dead!", expressing the hope of forgiveness and

clemency, for whatever minor offenses may have put a bit of a blotch on our records, 

here on earth.

     Such warm and friendly gatherings are not happening for many of us this year,

so I would like to offer a toast to those of you who occasionally stop by my place,

here at Paintings Day By Day, to see my art, from time to time.  You will always be

welcome here, to come in from the cold and sit by my blog's hearth, to warm yourself

for a while.  I'll be putting an extra potato in the pot for you, while I try to finish another

painting or two...... before my paints run dry. 

                                                        Eugene P. McNerney