WHEN IRISH EYES WERE SMILING

On Wednesday, March 17, I was sitting comfortably at home watching 42nd Street for the 103rd time when a television blurb reminded me that this day was the most sainted of Holidays for the Irish, beer drinkers and/or both, St Patrick's Day. This made me bit nostalgic, because in my younger days, I was a "regular" at two prominent Irish pubs in Washington DC, The Dubliner, and Kelly's Irish Times, and most St Patrick's Day holidays would find me and the other regulars huddled in a corner waiting for the lightweights to clear off and let us elbow our way to the bar for a cold bevvie.

Being a regular patron of "The Dub" and Kelly's was great fun for me at that age. I was never comfortable socializing with others, and, although I could talk a good game even then, I was so painfully lacking in self confidence, I seldom spoke to anyone, and didn't expect anyone to want to speak with me. But as I discovered (to my great surprise, if I'm honest), in the warmth of a pub, you're equal to everyone provided you have a love of authentic Irish music and equal love of Guinness or a good lager.

Pubs are truly the great equalizer. A traditional Irish or English "Public House", was exactly that; an actual house, with a section specifically delegated for the purpose of consuming alcoholic beverages. It was the "home" you could go to, talk to people whose path you may never cross, interact with those above and below your own social strata, and , for a short time anyway, behave as equals until the dreaded call of "last orders" was sounded.

And, so being a Dubliner/Times pub-goer was for me, a great equalizer. For the first time, I was surrounded by attorneys, political aides, lobbyists, journalists, Congressional aides, reporters (did I mention these establishments are on Capitol Hill?) and a rather odd assortment of eclectic characters, and to my utter surprise, they didn't particular care if I didn't go to an accredited university, drive a nice car or dress in the latest fashion. With that caliber of mental weight serving as the main customer base, it was what you had to say that made you stand out in the crowd, and being able to hold your own with some impressive thinkers earned you "regular" status. Being a pub though, it wasn't all business and politics; the drinks flowed, the authentic, live bands played from the tiny stage and there was plenty of governmental-gossip and romantic drama to go 'round, but for me at least, it was a liberating experience. After all, where else can you regularly go in relative safety and security to experience a microcosm of society, have a good chat, enjoy a few pints, and then go home unencumbered to the comfort of your own surroundings? For me, when I was in my early 20's the answer was: nowhere else.

The Dubliner and Kelly's Irish Times are still standing. The Dubliner is much more upscale than when I was a regular patron; it is now connected to the very impressive Phoenix Park Hotel, which was once a very run-down establishment called The Hotel Commodore. Kelly's Irish Times is also, to my surprise, still standing; always a little "shabbier" (but just as welcoming) than it's next-door neighbor, I understand it now caters more to the college crowd than serving as a still-crowded alternative when The Dubliner got too busy or too loud for tolerance. I haven't been in either place for years now but I think I'll make a return trip soon. Even though none of the "regulars" from my day will be there, I'm sure the food's still as good, the beer's still as cold and the atmosphere's still as warm and unchanged as then. Simplicity never changes. Erin Go Bragh.