COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES:

Do you know what Tuesday is? Yes, the day after Monday. That is true. But I’m looking for a little more than that.

I’ll give you a hint. If Gabriel Byrne, Finnoula Flanagan, Colin Farrell, Maureen O’Hara, Liam Neeson and Bono were all celebrating something on Tuesday, I’m guessing this is the reason why.

Of course, it’s St. Patrick’s Day, the one day when we are all Irish and on which we celebrate all things green. Are you excited? I knew you would be. Granted, I will grab at almost any excuse for a party, but I am a major St. Patty’s Day fan.

There are a number of reasons for that. One is my deep Irish roots. My family is from south of Dublin. OK, way south. Like 1,100 miles south. It’s also a product of growing up in a Bronx neighborhood that was intensely Italian and Irish, which is pretty intense, not to mention 12 years of Catholic schools, Irish-Catholic schools, to be exact.

Until I got to college, I just assumed every nun and priest had a brogue. The command center for St. Patrick’s Day in my neighborhood was Prendergast’s Irish Bar, on 236th Street under the El. When I walked home from school on St. Patrick’s Day, things were already getting rowdy at Prendergast’s.

When I passed it the next morning on my way back to school, there were still a good 10 or 15 revelers on-site, still singing, still smoking, still putting away the Guinness.

But no matter where you came from and how you got here, I say you have to love St. Patrick’s Day. Like Valentine’s Day and Halloween, it’s one of those wonderfully ditzy holidays whose origins are largely forgotten and that only serve as an excuse for us to have fun, and for stores to have sales.

And no, we’re not being sacrilegious. Let’s dust off that Celtic history. The man we call St. Patrick lived in the 5th century and was, of all things, British. We don’t know much about him but we do know that when he was 16, he was abducted from his home in Britain by Irish raiders and thrown into slavery in Ireland. I hate it when that happens.

He escaped after six years, was recaptured and then finally found his way back to Britain. So if nothing else, we know he was persistent. Patrick vowed he would return to Ireland as a missionary and did just that, not the smartest decision in the world, but we’re talking about the 5th century here. People were different.

And that brings us to today’s pop quiz on “St. Patrick: True or False?” Your basic St. Patrick legends are that he drove the snakes out of Ireland and into the sea (false) and that he used a three-leafed shamrock to explain the doctrine of the Trinity (true), which is where the “wearing of the green” business comes from, i.e., early Irish Christians wore the shamrock as a religious symbol (true.)

OK, fine. But how did all the St. Patrick’s Day stuff jump across the big pond? The Irish were among the earliest immigrants to these United States, arriving as early as 1700.

Ironically, that explains why St. Patrick’s Day is a much bigger deal here than it is in Ireland — it started in the earliest days of our history as a way for homesick Irish people to celebrate their heritage.

The first St. Patrick’s Day Parade was held in New York in 1779, staged by Irish recruits serving with the British Army. With the Great Famine of 1846, millions of Irish men and women set out for America.

By the way, that brings us to the fact that it’s “St. Patty’s Day,” not “St. Paddy’s Day.” Calling someone “Paddy” in my old neighborhood would not have been a good idea. Doing it in Prendergast’s would have gotten you poked in the snoot really hard.

So many Irish men were named Patrick, after you-know-who, that they were quickly and derisively nicknamed, “Paddys. The “Paddy Wagon” got its name in Boston and New York because so many cops were “Paddys.” In fact, our language is shot through with Irish derivatives — “shanty,” from “sean tig” for old house; “shebang,” from “shebeen,” an early Irish speakeasy; and “smithereen,” from “smidirin,” meaning “small fragment.”

Now then, that leaves one question. Where will you be this St. Patrick’s Day? I would highly recommend Skosh Monahan’s…Irish music, a gazillion beers, to say nothing of corned beef and cabbage that would make the boys at Prendergast’s cry, although not as much as “My Wild Irish Rose,” which makes them blubber, which is embarrassing.

I’ll even give you an old Irish toast to take with you: “May you live as long as you want, and never want, as long as you live.” Words to live by, I think. Live your dream. I gotta go.

PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays. He may be reached at [email protected].