With St. Patrick's day just around the corner, celebrations are already in full swing. Bar extensions have been negotiated, savings schemes have been cashed in to pay for the excess of the masses, holidays booked, hotels jammed solid. Everyone chasing up their Irish heritage, laying claim to whatever piece of Paddy they have inherited.
New York is planning its biggest parade ever. The streets will be green, as usual. The faces, balloons, spun sugar candy, babies, fountains, all will be green for one day, Saturday 17th March 2001. The venue for the longest running St. Patrick's day parade in the world - Savannah, Ga. - is nearing the end of its month-long preparation, and is ready to party through the 177th parade.
And in Dublin, Ireland, home of the most authentic St. Patrick's day parade ...nothing.
Yes, you heard me, nothing. Not a peep. Nada, status quo, la quotidienne, que sera, sera.
Let me put this in perspective. Last year, Dublin had Ireland's biggest ever fireworks display on St. Patrick's day. In fact, each St. Patrick's day of recent times has brought with it a record breaking fireworks display. Last year, just like the previous years, the city closed down for the night. Hundreds of thousands of people flocked to the docklands of the river Liffey, its bridges providing more windy real estate for the many pedestrian participants in the night's splendour. Earlier that day, many thousands thronged the funfair that appeared as if by magic on one of the main quays, to disappear two days later as if it had only existed in the imaginations of happy children.
The main shopping districts had large mobile puppet machines, this one a six-legged insect 10 metres tall, that one an 8 metre butterfly, each propelled by one or more black-clad dancing puppeteers from the Macnas troupe of street performers.
O'Connell Street - the most famous street in Dublin - closed off to allow miles of parade to arrive, hosting the VIP stand containing many dignitaries, politicians, ambassadors, celebrities, all smiling at the beautifully orchestrated spectacle that comes but once a year.
Well not this year, guys.
As you may or may not know, Europe's farming community has been reeling with an outbreak of Foot and Mouth disease, which although not fatal, is extremely virulent and affects cloven-hoofed animals. Something approaching a million animals have been destroyed in the few weeks since the first case was discovered in England. Since then, over 200 cases have been confirmed in the UK, and two in France.
The observant among you will have noticed that no cases in Ireland were mentioned.
Unfortunately, its paranoid politicians have decided that mass movement of people in / from / to the rural areas is to be discouraged at all costs. Sporting events such as Rugby, Soccer, Horse racing, and Ireland's national sports Hurling and Gaelic Football, all have been cancelled or postponed. International events have also been postponed, including the world famous Cheltenham races, and the Five Nations rugby cup. Dublin Zoo has been closed. Traffic in farming regions is restricted. Cross-border traffic with Northern Ireland is restricted. Passengers arriving at Dublin Airport are asked to wipe their feet in disinfectant mats before stepping foot on Irish soil.
And then on March 2nd, St. Patrick's day was cancelled.
Bearing in mind what is written above, this is not too surprising or inconsistent with other policies. St. Patrick's day is probably the single day of the year where "Jackeens" (aka Dubs) rub shoulders with more "Culchies" (aka Bogwarriors) than others of their own creed, ranking even higher than December 12th, the so-called "Culchies' day out", when farmers' wives and children descend en masse to the city shops in time for Christmas.
But as you can imagine, neither the Jackeens nor the Culchies are particularly happy about this move. Neither are the event organisers, many of whom have been working chokkablock in their spare time since last year's festival wound up. On the fatal day when the cancellation was announced, many teary-eyed phone calls were made. It's hard to simply throw away a year's work, more so when that work carries the blood and sweat of volunteers in it for love, not money.
Postponing the festival has been called "insurance" against the plague of Foot and Mouth disease - a costly insurance that will amount to many millions of punts, incurred not by the agricultural sector - they have already lost out in the mass culling of animals - but by the tourism industry.
Still, there may be light at the end of the tunnel. For every long face slumped over a pint of black down at the local pub this weekend, there may be a smiling face swallowing green pints at the end of the quarantine. The government have announced a thirty-day clean period. When a month has passed since the last discovery of a case of Foot and Mouth, restrictions will be lifted.
The festival board have added some hope of their own in this statement, where they talk of the festival being "postponed". When it can be rescheduled has yet to be decided. Hopes are high that the government will grant an additional public holiday around that time, as the festival was intended to run from Friday to Monday, declared a national holiday. Now, Monday the 19th is looking like an unwanted gift. It's too late to give it back - but can we ask for another?
We may be lucky - the world may have two St. Patrick's day festivals this year. And Ireland will laugh twice as much second time around.