Week Ten: The St. Patrick's Day Party

There are many, many difficulties presented by Cokesbury to those wishing to host its St. Patrick’s Day Party at their home, the first of which being you can’t host it at your home unless you happen to live on Dixie Avenue, in the 800 block, or so says the invitation:

On St. Patrick’s Day at eight o’clock,
At Dixie Avenue, in the eight hundred block,
We’re giving a party honoring St. Pat.
We’ll have a pig time, we assure you of that.
At the appointed time, be on the scene,
With an Irish smile and “wearing of the green.”

Of course, the implication here is that you substitute your own two-syllable street name in the rhyme, and that you figure out how to make it work. That’s the assumption with the party, too. I’m not sure the author knows much more about Ireland than the old clichés – but that’s what your friends will be expecting, won’t they? On to the party’s introduction:

In the month of March comes St. Patrick’s Day, and the Irish motif affords an excellent opportunity to plan for an enjoyable party.

Of course, if the motif were Andalusian, Cokesbury would also insist it affords an excellent opportunity to plan for an enjoyable party. To say otherwise would be counterproductive to the book’s entire premise. But we continue:

St. Patrick was the patron saint of Ireland. The setting and decorations and the atmosphere should be as typically Irish as possible. The pipe, the shilalah, the shamrock, pigs, and snakes should be in evidence, as St. Patrick is supposed to have chased the snakes out of Ireland.

Presumably he did it while smoking a pipe, wielding a shilalah and being trailed by pigs feasting on shamrocks. And yes, before you get too far, remember this is a costume gala. Your guests will arrive clad as typical Irish lads and lasses:

The boys may wear green ties and shamrocks, while the girls may wear aprons and shamrock in their hair.

Good luck finding fresh shamrocks to wear in your hair, ladies. Best plan ahead and plant a crop of shamrocks indoors so you’re ready when March 17 rolls around.

Cokesbury realizes, of course, that some of your guests may not be able to come up with an authentic Irish costume, shamrocks and all. Nor should a hostess take it for granted that her guests want to dress up in the first place. Fortunately, Cokesbury has a solution for both contingencies:

If it is not thought desirable to have the guests wear costumes or any nature, the hostess may have them make costumes on arrival. Provide green and white paper with some cut-out shamrocks, snakes, and pipes, and have the boys make an apron out of the paper, decorating it with the snakes, shamrock, and pipes; while the girls make a cap for the boys, decorating them in the same fashion.

Note by the way this is written it’s implied that if costumes are made, only the boys shall wear them; nowhere does it say the aprons are to be made for the ladies, and some of the men may insist on wearing cap and apron, especially if they follow Cokesbury’s hostess admonition that, throughout the evening, “all talk with an Irish brogue.” Which, if my dictionary is right, is a kind of shoe. Oh, wait. That’s a brogan. Never mind.

Enough of the costumes and Irish patter, however. It’s on to the games. This one is especially appropriate for any guests wearing fragile paper costumes:

Greased Pig Relay. Divide the group into two equal parts. This may be done by counting off one and two, the “ones” forming one group and the “twos” the other. Have them line up on opposite sides of the room facing each other. At a signal from the leader the ones at the head of the line start weaving in and through the players in his line. He must go all the way to the foot and back in this way. The second player must then start, being careful to first go around the person at the head of the line and go all the way down to the foot and back to his place. This continues until every player has traveled the full length of his line and back, and concludes when the last player, the one at the foot, makes the run. The side that finishes first wins.

Whooo! And, hopefully, everyone’s winded and dizzy not. And note Cokesbury assumes you’re too dumb to know that once the ones and twos have counted off, they naturally should form opposing teams. Without their direction, they fear, your party would lie in disarray with your guests wondering if the One-Two game was the extent of your creativity. Never you mind. Cokesbury has more memorable games for you. On to something to confuse the more puritanical amongst your guests.

Circle Blarney. The girls form a circle in the center and the boys on the outside. Music is played as they march around, the boys clockwise and the girls counter-clockwise. When the music stops, the boy and girl in front of him must blarney until the music starts again.

This is where I learned that blarney is not only a noun referring to the blarney stone, but also a verb referring to, well, overall blarniness, or the ability to babble on incessantly about nothing at all, or to tell tall tales and such like. Nothing like it sounds, of course.

This is not, of course, the last time your guests will be called on to blarney. Next comes a game involving the actual Blarney Stone:

Kissing the Blarney Stone. Place a stone or something to represent a stone on the floor. Players line up for a relay in two or more equal groups [see the One-Two Game, but with the Tree or More Variant mentioned above]. At the sound of the leader’s whistle the first one runs to the stone, gets down on his knees, kisses the stone, and runs back, touching the person at the front of the line and taking his place at the back of the line. He group that finishes first wins.

This game is especially popular among households who love that coconutty sound of skulls colliding as people from different teams go for the Blarney Stone at the same time. Make sure to have the emergency response numbers preprogrammed into your telephone and be able to spell everyone’s names correctly for the newspaper reporter.

While various players are in various stages of consciousness, dizziness and coherency from the last game, it would be wise to have the rest cool off with the following activity:

Singing Irish Songs. Many of the fine Irish songs are familiar . . . Have these songs mimeographed and give a copy to each guest. Have someone play who has been notified in advance and gotten the music necessary, and this will be a very enjoyable part of the evening. Almost anyone can sing a song when they know the tune and have the words on a song sheet.

Well. Lieutenant Kevin Thomas Riley of the Starship Enterprise blows that “anyone can sing with the tune and a song sheet” theory right out of the water. And wish an Irish song to boot. Start the video at 4:23 for the start of his lunacy, to 5:50 for his tuney goodness. Or badness. Of course, there is no evidence of a song sheet in this episode, so maybe Cokesbury has a point . . . Nah.



We’re better off moving on to the one Irish Cliché Cokesbury hasn’t mentioned yet. And you thought they’d forgotten all about the potato.

Potato Roll. No St. Patrick’s party would be complete without a Potato Relay. Have this in a little different way. Give each person on the front a table knife, and with this he must roll the potato. Mark out on the floor a circle about four inches in diameter, and the potato must roll into this circle and stop. Then the potato is to be rolled back into a circle of similar size near the head of the line. Have each one roll the potato and take his place at the back of the line. The leader will have to insist that the potato actually be rolled into the circle each time. At the beginning the potato must be in the circle each time. This is a game with plenty of life in it.

Life, that’s it. That’s what your stooped and concussed guests will remember about this party. The survivors, anyway.

Oh yes. The survivors. Time for a game to really make them regret coming. Especially the ladies.

Green Pig. Place a mirror in the bottom of a box and cover the sides of the box with green paper. Use a green light over the box and have in an otherwise darkened room. Let the players go see it one at a time. When they look into the box, they will see their picture in green, the Green Pig.

There! They feel a lot better having come to your smashing St. Patrick’s Day Party. Only one thing could top the Green Pig Game:

Irish Jokes. Have ach guest tell a Pat and Mike joke. If this is thought impractical, select some of the guests and have them tell stories. Other will in all probability take part spontaneously.

Ah yes, the era when the United States of America was a great country, uninhibited by political correctness. Everyone knows a Pat and Mike joke, or will see their inhibitions drop in preparation of dropping an hilarious bombshell on the rest of the crowd as story after story is told. Try this kind of thing nowadays and you pretty much get the same kinds of awkward silences you get in The Goode Family when Gerald has the gall to point out that the lady in the purple suit is a lesbian.

Now it’s time for the food. A Cokesbury first – your guests actually get a decent meal out of it, perhaps to make up for being concussed and bruised and insulted during the preceding activities. Serve sliced ham and potato salad with coffee or tea, Cokesbury suggests. For an “amusing stunt,” insist your guests pay for the food, with the cost of the ham being one smile each, the potato salad being four kind words, and so on. And then resign yourself to your guests never, ever coming to a party at your house again, unless they’re wearing protective headgear.

And come they will, especially those who enjoyed broguing in Irish all evening long – for the next party by Cokesbury be filled with piratey goodness. A Pirate Party! With costumes. Arr, matey!