I had never seen anything like Hoboken St Patricks Day, prior to moving there a few years back. A holiday to celebrate Irish culture, held on the first Saturday in March. Their own St. Patricks Day holiday. A drunk-fest celebrated solely by Hoboken, with the exception, of course, of the B&T making the once-a-year pilgrimage from Manhattan, passports in hand.
Not even a summer weekend I had previously spent at the Jersey Shore, (in a house stuffed full of 20-something's), could compare to the debauchery that takes place at the onset of March every year on this Hoboken holiday.
I wonder if Ireland ever pays tribute to our drunken ways by designating a holiday to wasted Americans. That would be worth the trip.
During Hobo St. Pats, the streets fill with "green" people as every liquor store within 10 miles sells out of kegs and every rooftop, balcony, and patio is equipped with beer pong and flip cup tables. Drunken parties start as early as possible, and are sometimes merely a continuation from the night before. The next morning the streets are littered with beer bottles and pizza, obvious evidence of a good time.
Every year city officials threaten to close down this city-wide block party. It’s very possible that the bottles being launched at passersbys from balconies, the rapes, and the overwhelming alcohol-induced comas of 2011 will soon make this threat a reality.
I thought only Hobokennites, having an obvious void of pleasure in their daily routines, were the only ones to create such a holiday (as well as an excuse to day drink- my favorite) all on their own. But I was wrong.
Having only lived in Long Beach for a week, all we had heard was "have you been to Irish Day?", "Do you know what happens at Irish Day?", "Beware of Irish Day!"..
Wait, what's this Irish Day? St Patricks day is still 6 months away... Another community inspired holiday that pays tribute to beer and food?! Awesome!
Turns out Irish Day is Long Beach's version of St. Patricks Day and includes an Irish Heritage Day Parade and street festival. It has been running strong for 22 years and is held in the bar-studded West End of Long Beach the first Saturday of October. Put on by the Ancient Order of Hibernians, America’s oldest Catholic Irish-American fraternal organization, founded in NYC in 1836. The day begins with a morning Mass at the Sacred Heart Roman Catholic Church in Long Beach (how’s that for irony?!) and is followed by a proper Irish breakfast before kicking off the parade at noon. The parade travels down West Beech Street (just outside of our apartment) through the west end of Long Beach. Afterwards, the families take in the street fair just in time to be home before the bars are overtaken by patrons looking to continue the fun.
Even though we had been heavily warned, Trav and I were ready to throw caution to the wind and take Irish Day by the horns.
Not even a summer weekend I had previously spent at the Jersey Shore, (in a house stuffed full of 20-something's), could compare to the debauchery that takes place at the onset of March every year on this Hoboken holiday.
I wonder if Ireland ever pays tribute to our drunken ways by designating a holiday to wasted Americans. That would be worth the trip.
During Hobo St. Pats, the streets fill with "green" people as every liquor store within 10 miles sells out of kegs and every rooftop, balcony, and patio is equipped with beer pong and flip cup tables. Drunken parties start as early as possible, and are sometimes merely a continuation from the night before. The next morning the streets are littered with beer bottles and pizza, obvious evidence of a good time.
Every year city officials threaten to close down this city-wide block party. It’s very possible that the bottles being launched at passersbys from balconies, the rapes, and the overwhelming alcohol-induced comas of 2011 will soon make this threat a reality.
I thought only Hobokennites, having an obvious void of pleasure in their daily routines, were the only ones to create such a holiday (as well as an excuse to day drink- my favorite) all on their own. But I was wrong.
Having only lived in Long Beach for a week, all we had heard was "have you been to Irish Day?", "Do you know what happens at Irish Day?", "Beware of Irish Day!"..
Wait, what's this Irish Day? St Patricks day is still 6 months away... Another community inspired holiday that pays tribute to beer and food?! Awesome!
Turns out Irish Day is Long Beach's version of St. Patricks Day and includes an Irish Heritage Day Parade and street festival. It has been running strong for 22 years and is held in the bar-studded West End of Long Beach the first Saturday of October. Put on by the Ancient Order of Hibernians, America’s oldest Catholic Irish-American fraternal organization, founded in NYC in 1836. The day begins with a morning Mass at the Sacred Heart Roman Catholic Church in Long Beach (how’s that for irony?!) and is followed by a proper Irish breakfast before kicking off the parade at noon. The parade travels down West Beech Street (just outside of our apartment) through the west end of Long Beach. Afterwards, the families take in the street fair just in time to be home before the bars are overtaken by patrons looking to continue the fun.
Even though we had been heavily warned, Trav and I were ready to throw caution to the wind and take Irish Day by the horns.
It was a beautiful day and after watching the parade festivities get set up from our balcony, we decided to start our day, the way all days should be started, at the beach- beer in hand.
As the sun warmed the beach, we came up with a game plan for the day. Plan A was more beer and Plan B was food. Perfect.
After the beach, I showered to got ready while Trav concocted shots out of anything and everything in our depleted liquor cabinet. I was told the last one contained strawberry jelly and some unrecognizable schnapps only after I was able to keep it down.
With a "bring it!" attitude, we walked across the street to where Irish Day was in full swing. Not before passing our neighbors who asked "First Irish day, huh?!" and added " good luck!" I don't think it was even lunch time yet. What were we getting ourselves into?
We passed an empty stage that had been set up at the end our street and wondered who'd be playing there later & what kind of crowd it might bring.
The bars already had people spilling out of them and tents were set up in parking lots making make-shift beer gardens. Parking lots and porta-potties are no longer my style (since the Padres were moved from Qualcomm, devastatingly ending tail-gate traditions!) so we marched on.
They had every type of "fair" food that you can imagine from food trucks shaped like pigs, fried Oreos and Twinkies, zeppoles, and of course sausage & peppers.
We stopped at a bar, Bahia Social Club, with the intent that this would be the first stop on our Irish Day bar crawl. We found a table outside to watch the crowd and drink cheap beer so it soon became our only stop on the Irish day bar crawl for the the next couple of hours.
The incessant smell of food provoked us to give up our spot and search for the best food. We first grabbed an awesome corned-beef Cuban sandwich which started my newest craving. Next we discovered Pickled Me Petes. The sweet chipotle chips were the best I'd ever had. We've already had them delivered to the apartment since.. My sausage and peppers craving was cured by a giant sandwich as we snacked on zeppoles for desert.
All in all- Irish Day had been a successful but VERY tame one by our standards.
By 6pm we were having a beer on our couch, happy to be home. We heeded our favorite bartender's advice and decided not to attempt the bars that were now full to the rafters of belligerent New Yorkers. One elbow to the boob or collision of someone's high heel & my flip flopped feet would be a bad combo- we considered ourselves lucky to have survived Irish Day. Looking forward to 2012
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