Leprechaun

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Well, this cartoon might have had the shortest shelf life on record. This morning the Liberals launched its Green Plan.

Oh well.

Anyway, this is the first St. Patrick’s Day editorial cartoon I’ve ever drawn. With all the talk of green this and green that over the past 3 or 4 months I’ve been waiting for the arrival of this day to feature some politician dressed up as a leprechaun. This is the second time within 6 months… the last (and probably first ever leprechaun I’ve drawn since probably grade 4) was in this cartoon related to Toronto’s Simcoe Day.

Many people think that because I’ve got a pretty celtic name… my middle name is Patrick, by the way, I’m one of those Celtic-philes. Especially one of those North American ‘celts’ who try hard to understand their heritage by scoffing at the notion of green beer and acting like they really enjoy stout beer… and not necessarily Guiness, but one of those micro brewed Irish stouts. Scottish wannabes will act like haggis is the greatest delicacy on Earth. And of course extreme Celtic-philes will listen to obscure celtic music and set aside time on Saturday mornings to watch television highlights of British and Irish soccer… I mean, football. Every few years they’ll go over to the old country and wander around cemetaries looking for long lost relatives just to assure themselves that their backgrounds go beyond their large suburban garage doors in Blandville, North America.

I’ve been to both Scotland and Ireland on a couple of occasions. I lived in London for nearly two years in the 1990’s. I was one of those Celtic-philes, and my life in the U.K. gave me enough exposure to the ways of life over there that I’m more than happy to be back here. I think it was the aftermath of downing 7 pints of Guiness in a row at that St Patrick’s night party at the Irish Club in Sloane Square 14 years ago when I realized Celticmania wasn’t all the ‘craic’ I had been lead to believe.

My grandfather, the MacKay one, emigrated to Canada from Scotland in 1885. That’s 1885. He’d be 129 if he were still alive. Needless to say I’m pretty far removed from the Celtic world. So if we ever bump into each other in person don’t be surprised when you don’t see me in a gaelic kilt and speaking with a heavy Scottish brogue.