Thursday, June 11, 2015

Raising a Pint to Captain Obtuse

Dear John Dunleavy: 

Hello.  I realize that you and I have never made the acquaintance of one another and, truth be told, are not likely ever to do so, which dramatically reduces the odds of us ever being able to have this conversation face-to-face. Therefore, I write. 

In the interest of full disclosure, I have never had a job as nifty as "Chairman of the New York City St. Patrick's Day Parade" so I recognize that I likely do not have a full, complete understanding of all of the rigors associated with it.  While I would have anticipated that the ninety days or so immediately following the parade would be your "slow period", with your focus on shaking off your St. Patrick's Day hangover and squeezing out the last of your corned beef and cabbage-fueled farts, your day-to-day commitments as Chairman of the NYC SPD Parade apparently continue to consume a disproportionate amount of your time.  So much so in fact that your ability to keep up on world events has been compromised. 

Allow me to allow you to catch up on an item that apparently escaped your searching eye.  It was a bit more than two weeks ago that the Republic of Ireland (a nation with which I presume you have at least a bit of familiarity) became the first nation ON EARTH (a planet with which I presume you have at least a like level of familiarity) to approve same-sex marriage by a vote of the people.  And Mr. Dunleavy, in case you are keeping score at home, the vote was not close:  62% of the almost two million people who voted on the referendum voted in favor of legalizing same-sex marriage.  

And yet, just yesterday morning, an item from popped up in my in-box, the headline of which was, "NYC St. Patrick's Day Chairman says gays will "have a problem" marching in 2016".   Forgive my bluntness Mr. Dunleavy but...are you fucking kidding me?  To borrow a line from the great Idina Menzel, let it go.  Your stance on this issue, which has always been offensive (and not simply to me), was overrun in 2015. Remember? Irrespective of how many pints of Guinness one consumes, there is no WABAC Machine - much less three of them.

It should not be difficult for a man who is in charge of a parade for Christ's sake to grasp the concept that life is, itself, a forward-moving exercise.  If you cannot, then pass the shillelagh to someone who can.  Get over it.  Get over yourself.  Feel free to do so in whichever order you prefer.  

Go Taters! 



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