Tuesday, March 17, 2015

BAD LUCK DRAWS THE IRISH! LADY GRIZ DREW TOP-SEEDED NOTRE DAME FOR THEIR NCAA TOURNAMENT OPENER . . . BETTER RECRUIT SOME OF THE TOUGH IRISH LASSIES FROM BUTTE! DOROTHY, THIS IS NOT KANSAS, AND YOU ARE NOT IN UTAH! ST. PADDY'S DAY PARADE, GREEN REFRESHING JOY! PEOPLE CAME FROM WYOMING--WE HAVE NEVER DONE ST. PATRICK'S! AWESOME! WE GENERALLY JUST HAVE A DRINK IN A CLUB, BUT THIS? WAY COOL! HELENA CHICKS WITH CAMERAS, EXCITED TO BE IN BUTTE TO CELEBRATE WITH THEIR IRISH NEIGHBORS, DOWN THE ROAD. BAG PIPES, KIDS DANCING THE IRISH JIG, COWBOYS, WITH GREEN CHAPS, GREEN CLOVERS IN THEIR COWBOY HATS, ST. PATRICK GRACING THE PARADE GOERS, BLESSING THE DAY AND FORGIVING US FOR THE SINS WE WILL COMMIT TODAY, TEAMSTERS, ELECTRICIANS, NORTHWEST PIPE . . . BUDWEISER, BEER FLASKS TOPPING PARADE ENTRIES, IRISH MEN AND WOMEN, RAISING ONE TO THE BLARNEY STONE . . . BANDS, HORSES, MEAN LOOKING TEAMSTER MASCOTS, GROWLING AS THEY PICKED UP PARADE PARTICIPANTS, CARRYING THEM EFFORTLESSLY DOWN THE STREETS . . . AND A GOOD TIME WAS HAD BY ALL! NOW THE GOAL FOR DRINKERS, IS TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE CROWDED BARS, AND OUT AGAIN, TAKING A BREATH IN BETWEEN DRINKS, PARTY IS ON!

No Color More Refreshing Than Green!  It's Everywhere!

From the crack of dawn, the house was hopping with Irish Cheer, beefy Celtic Warriors, modern day, wearing t-shirts with green skulls, kilts, boots, green and white plaid hats, of their heritage, making me wish my son-in-law, who is of Celtic origins, was here to wear his kilt, and dress in his greens, joining guys, of like mind, flavors, and bent, heading up to the parade to participate in the traditions of their homelands.  I loved seeing the bag pipers, with their kilts, masculine, strong legs, tall and proud, showing off before the parade began, and thrilled, as the green chapped cowboy, sitting outside the Pita Pit, with St. Patrick's Day specials, played the banjo, and Irish jigs, traditional folk music, while three young boys watched.  The banjo player asked the boys if they knew how to do the Irish jig, and the red-head, started to dance, and more around, as I am sure he had seen his parents, and grandparents do.  Little brother or friend, was not so sure, that this was good for his friend's image, and tried to stop him, and he danced the jig up the street, all the while his friends, were grabbing him and trying to get him to stop.  Finally, one put an arm lock on him, and got him to stop, but the alternative, was the Irish dukes, raised, in fighting Irish style . . . don't like the jig, then you get the fists, in true Irish tradition!  LOL!

From free community dinners at the Silver, of corned beef and cabbage, to Polish and Chicago dogs, being sold on the streets, my friends were snookered before the parade, tying one on, for the good times.  I don't drink, but I love a party, love green, love the Irish, the traditions, a day that you can just have fun with friends, and enjoy a different culture, with their music, customs, and good times, inviting all of us to join them. The other day, in the Montana Standard, the local newspaper, that seems to do this so well, throughout the year, at special commemorative times, had pictures, stamps, memorabilia, flags, and fun historic stuff from the Old Country, so cool, fun to read about the traditions, and connect with the people.  They had two guys featured on the front page, who had duel citizenship, in both Ireland, and in America, and I was pleased to see the Irish teach their children about their country of origin, but always teaching them to love America! Many of the Irish, like my own, ancestors who immigrated to America, came with a hope of a better life for their children, came to Butte, to the mines, seeing the opportunities to build and grow their families.  And what a contribution they have made to this town, to the state, and to the country, and we are all better for their venture to this country, the fight, the tenacity, and the true grit, it took to fight, for wages, safety, power, and protection, standing up to the Copper Kings, and I was so impressed, as the Finnish in town, more of a minority, back in the day, 500 were fired, and the Irish stood by their sides, trying to force the mine management, into hiring them back.  Way cool . . . 

Keep Your Hands Warm, And Your Beer Cold

Women making their way through the crowd, representing the International Brotherhood of Teamsters, Teamster Local #2, Bill Rowe, Secretary Treasurer, here in Butte, handed out these really festive and cool looking beer can covers, green and white, with the logo of the teamsters, two horses, united and yoked together, making them stronger then separate, and being placed over the circle of the brotherhood of teamsters.  It is interesting coming from staunch, Republican, anit-union, Utah, with their right to work laws, and protections against strikes, labor disputes, and wage wars, making it safe for anyone to cross picket lines, and get to work, to coming up to Butte, with the rich traditions, of unions, strikes, labor, wage wars, the deaths of 168 miners in one of the worst mining disasters in the nations, or the history of mining, fires, the shooting of 15 labor union leaders, the hanging of Frank Little, a union boss, and vocal leader, to a place, where people are four generation miners, and proud of it, home town proud!

Not only is the drinking environment totally different, the work force, community make up and value system different, and Butte is one tough town, and I dig it.  This morning, as I walked up to the parade, watching, trying to catch the pulse of the community, the teeming flavor of the town, the only word that kept coming to my mind, was tough!  All the old trucks and cars, beaters in some people's minds, muscle cars in my mind, with the rumble of the engines, rumbling up the streets, there is nothing gentile about this town, to me.  But, in my own way, I am one tough chick, so I dig the people, the drinking class, as one country western song sings, of the proud nature of the working class, the factory workers, the electricians, the miners, the plumbers, the linemen, and the teamsters.  My fourth husband, was a backhoe driver, and he kept reminding me that before the concrete was pored, the bathrooms, the offices, the floors, the walls, etc., came, he was there digging the foundation, making the whole building possible.  Being from a totally white collar background, and having little exposure to blue collar workers, he was a whole new experience for me, and changed my life.

I remember seeing an Oprah Winrey show, that was on, white collar women, being attracted to blue collar men.  At the time, I couldn't quite understand, it at the time, but after working with a crowd of lawyers, professors, and doctors, giving me a hard-body construction guy any time!  LOL!  You can't have two stressed out, up-tight, freaked out, 24/7 types, in the same marriage and survive.  It is much better to have the guy, who can walk away from the job, leave his 8 to 5 or whatever, and he isn't the boss, is not worried all week end about reaching a deadline, and can stop by the local bar, get a beer, come home, watch TV, go hunting, take the kids, boating, go 4-wheeling, etc.  I have become keenly aware of the differences and the benefits, to the, what would I call him, the All-American guy, who just wants a beer, loves his wife, watches the football game, coaches his kids basketball, football or soccer team, and hangs with the family on Sundays!  Here is one to the drinking class!

Throw the Indians Into the Mix, Nothing Short of the Wild, Wild West!

There are seven Indian Reservations in Montana, my friend Sandra Ironman, has been filling me in on the workings and nature of the Indian Nation, fascinating.  She is as proud of her Native American Indian heritage as the Irish are theirs, and the two cultures, almost started the American Indian Wars, this morning at the Butte Rescue Mission.  Sandra, says that the white man, took two tribes that hated each other, and put them on the same reservation, hoping they would kill each other off.  I don't know if that is true, but that is her take on it.  Sandra is my age, or one year younger, she is 59, just got out of the hospital, in Missoula, where I met her, and she has connections and relatives all over the state, meeting up with many of them, in her brief stay in Butte, being surprised to see friends from Billings to Rocky Boy Reservation, and beyond.  

Sandra, unlike myself, is thin, agile, but she is still, just out of the hospital, and in the woman's dorm, at the mission, she wants a lower bunk, in this bedroom of 8 beds, 4 on top, 4 on bottom.   A local, Irish gal, is younger, thin, and sleeping on the bottom bunk, due to another lady leaving, who had previously been their, and had a broken leg.  So, for the last three nights, Sandra, who does have somewhat of a spoiled Indian mentality of entitlement, and proud as you can get, has made increasing demands for the bottom bunk, but without prevailing.  So, last night, she was complaining about the cold, the bunk, this and that, deciding to sleep sitting up in a chair, as a martyr, sort of, but starting to get on a Washington chick, hard girl's, nerves, who works in the mornings, and needs her sleep, and who is also very vocal in support of her friend, keeping the bottom bunk.  So, Sandra, decides to make a bed on the floor, but she is complaining about the cold, the lack of blankets, which she had been told to just get a few more from down stairs, which she didn't do, on purpose, I think.

So there is this escalating tension, between, this Irish chick and the Indian . . . a preacher came and taught the scriptures, as is generally the case, each night before dinner.  Sandra, being of the native spiritual bent, started talking and being somewhat rude during the service, and the Irish chick, told

 her she had no respect. The one thing I appreciate about Montana, is that the people just tell you what they think, and that is it, you can deal with it, or eat it!  I am still coughing my guts out, and decided rather than to wake everyone up with my coughing, I would go in the common area, and try to sleep sitting up, which seems to be better on my cough, after taking cough medicine, drops, sleeping pills, etc., none of which seemed to help.  Sandra, said again that she was cold, pissed, and couldn't sleep . . . I put my extra blanket on her, but that didn't seem to satisfy, and her and the other Washington chick got into it.  Whatever!  I understand both sides, and always try to be reasonable and get along.  Sandra, follows me into the common room and goes into the bathroom, where she thinks it is warmer.  But she starts doing this Indian thing, pounding her hands on the floor, and waking up the babies in the next room, married couple and three young daughters!

One Bath vs. Four Showers!

Irish, Washington, friends, pissed and tired, come in, start bitching about Indian chick, I just listen . . . Washington chick goes into take a shower, and Indian chick looks out, shuts the door and turns on the tub water . . . over sized, and must take all the water for the upstairs, water heater!  Washington chick comes out of the shower, yelling, no hot water . . . Indian chick, bitching out white chicks.  There are several couples or families up there trying to sleep, and I am just sitting on the couch trying to keep the peace between the warring factors, a rare thing, really, everyone gets a lone, marvelously for the circumstances, but the Indian chick is spoiled, a princess, I guess, and pissing everyone off.  I am friends with both, and see that both are being both, reasonable and unreasonable in what they are wanting and demanding from the other. Families are now getting up and into the fray, as is the quasi-staff, pregnant woman!

I was raised in a family of 10, and I was the early riser, and the one who loved warm water, and took a shower each morning, until all the hot water ran out, before anyone was up!  I had not problem doing it either.  I hate cold showers, and love to hog all the water!  So, I can see both sides.  If you have the ability to steal all the hot water, from some  . . . wow, the Irish party is on, two amazingly dressed to the hilt, Irish, celebrators, just walked by me, looking so cool, amazing, with their red wigs, total green, and everything Irish, I am getting to see what everyone is talking about . . . proud white chicks, that are hassling you, why not, she was being tag teamed!  LOL!  There are other Indians, a family, way cool, and kind, not entitled, and have integrated a bit better than Sandra.  I kept, reminding them that we are all under strained circumstances, and some have been sick, so do no harm, should be the order of the day!

I felt like a referee, just keep the fighters a bay, with them throwing punches, and not backing down, but not getting into fist-a-cuffs, either, luckily!  Believe me, the girls are as tough as the guys, just a bit, less likely, at least to go after it, for a while, but up to any challenge, that may come their way.  Sandra is threatening to flatten the Irish chick on the streets of Butte, and get the Washington chick fired from her job.  I reminded her, that if she wanted a bed without much trouble, don't fuck with jobs, because she is on her way out!  I told her I might be gone by Wednesday too, so just chill and work with them.  She didn't seem interested in any one's bed but, the Irish chicks!  So the morning went.  We all got down stairs, and I don't play favorites, nor do I take sides, just try to talk sense into the various factors.  But, finally, Sandra, with several of her Indian friends, she thinks are going to take her side, says, hey, we need to get all the Indians, meet in North Dakota, and plan a strategy, to take this country back, and behind her hand, she said, pen all the white people and shoot them!  I looked at her, and said, hey, that is not cool.  Some other guy, spoke up very diplomatically, and said, we all share this country together, you are free to go anywhere you want in this country.  She said, yeah, on the reservation.  I reminded her that Indians, had duel citizenship, they are citizens of the Indian Nation and of America, entitled to all the protections and whatever.

They Do Throw Out Trouble Makers!

Sandra, after all was said and done, said, I heard they are going to throw me out.  I said, I warned you last night, you just can't come in, and make trouble everywhere and think you are going to get away with it.  I said, like with the preacher last night, you may not be of that religion, many are not, but just common courtesy, would dictate that you respect the man, and either don't come for the religious services, or at least, sit and listen, giving them the respect they deserve.  These places are quit forgiving and here to help people, not put them in the worse situation than they were in before coming there, but people need to not be their own worst enemies, and it is them who really is to blame if they do get kicked out.  There are roughly 50 or so people in the mission, including staff, who need to get along, and that takes patience and skill, and they really do well with it, so someone who is like a fly in the ointment, and makes trouble for everyone, has nobody to blame, but themselves, when they get kicked out!

After warning Sandra, who really is nice, for a day and a half, she finally, looked at me, and said, I don't know what I am going to do, if I get kicked out?  And you are just worrying about that now?  You would think at some point in life, that you start to live beyond the moment, and realize that what you are doing now, effects, not only the rest of the day, but next week, next month, and a year from now, with consequences, attached.  When you hit the mission stage of life, you are pretty raw, and need to be careful, because, you literally can, end up out on the streets!  I told her to be very apologetic and remind them that she is right out of the hospital, and doesn't have anywhere to go; however, she seems to have people she can turn to, at every corner!  But, just in case, plan B is not there, you better make plan A work!  We will see if she is still there when I get there tonight!

Party is in Full Swing . . . Three Cop Cars, Lights & All, Racing to the Rescue!

Mission and shelter people got game . . . they are a little different, than your normal folks, riskier, more raw, and more adventuresome, I would say.  This morning, I kid from Idaho, came in . . . he looked CIA, but, whatever, I suspect everyone.  But he talked to me about the upcoming Big Foot Conference, we shared stories about films, sittings, and claims of seeing Big Foot.  To me, anything is possible, and I think life is more fun, thinking that creatures, like Big Foot exist.  We talked about Area 51, to secret government testing grounds, just outside of St. George, where UFOs and aliens, have been allegedly seen.  He told me about his tails with the government, but as I did my natural interrogation, a God-given gift, the more I pressed for his issues, the more he backed down, and said, his were nothing like mine!

You can fool some of the people, some of the time, but you can't fool me all the time, and generally, I can smell the truth, especially when it comes to government shit . . . you better know your shit, to pull it off.  I think he realized he was in a different league than he planned on.  But it was fun batting around wild theories and ideas with him.  He said, he was just going to hang out and take a nap in his car.  He will probably disappear, into the day or night, all you need to do, is put the real thing, next to the fake, and it is easy to tell, who the real and fake are.  Unsuspecting people, may believe him, but he is too, vague to be giving me the true story.  We'll see how long he lasts.

May the Luck of the Irish be With YOU!

HAPPY ST. PADDY'S DAY!


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