SPD, like the snakes of Ireland, came and went. Stood in line from 7:00 – 7:30pm at one of the few Irish taverns in this village on the North Texas plains that somehow was able to pull off three St. Patrick’s Day parades even though there is not a noticeable Irish diaspora anywhere nearby. For the $5.00 cover I got a cheap plastic hat that ripped as soon as the doorman placed it on my head. And the chance to wait and wait and wait for table service. There was no talk of the shamrock representing the trinity of God. Or the conversion of the Irish tribes to Christianity. Only beer and the chance to wear tacky green. Why has this day lost all meaning!

From Ireland to Russia: Спокойной ночи, Mr. Kennan.