Gettin’ The Irish On

If you’re Irish, and even if you aren’t, you can celebrate St. Patrick’s Day along with everyone else. And if you happen to be in Ireland on the day, well, the celebration can’t get any better. At least that’s what Windy, and probably a lot of other folks think. 

Slim Randles is my guest today, bringing us this nonsensical tale from Windy of the fractured language. 

Since it’s never too soon to start the festivities, grab a beer and enjoy…

“Comin’ up on Saint Paddy’s Day, boys,” Windy said, coming in on final approach to an empty chair. Perfect two-point landing. Loretta filled his cup with fresh, and he reared back and addressed the members of the Mule Barn truck stop’s world dilemma think tank. “Almost here, yessir. But this one ain’t gonna be like the last one … not by a strong shot. Lead us not into configuration, thass what I always say.”

Well, yes he does, actually. In fact, expanding the world’s vocabulary seems to be the life mission of our old cowboy camp cook and philosopher, Alphonse “Windy” Wilson. And dang, he’s good at it.

“What happened last St. Patrick’s Day, Windy?” asked Doc, politely. And then we braced ourselves for his answer.

“Wellsir, there I were, boys, findin’ myself in the capital city on Saint Paddy’s Day and I were jest walkin’ along, peruvulatin’ the sidewalks, as it were, when I chanced upon a publication house. Thass what they call ‘em in Ireland, you know.

So I rears back and walks on in. Boys, the party was on all right. There was Irishers ever-where! One of ‘em, a big booger, comes over and says to buy him a beer, cuz I’m the only one in there who hasn’t bought him one, yet.”

“Did you buy him one, Windy?”

“Do I look stoo-pid? A-course I did. And I danced a little jig and had a couple myself. And ‘bout that time here come that big ol’ drunk guy again and he said it were time to buy him another beer. I told him I didn’t have no more money, and that’s when I found myself out on the sidewalk, the whole eastern side of my face hurtin’ somethin’ fierce. Then I remembered that little sign they had in there. Had it right over the bar. It said, “If you ain’t a mick, you’re gonna get sick.”

Them Irish is right ever now and then.”
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Two of Slim’s books, Ol’ Jimmy Dollar and The Cowboy’s Bucket List, are now deeply discounted for his readers and listeners. Check out the offer at

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Check out all of Slim’s award-winning books at, and in better bookstores and bunkhouses throughout the free world.

All of the posts here are from his syndicated column, Home Country that is read in hundreds of newspapers across the country. I am always happy to have him share his wit and wisdom here.

Slim Randles is a veteran newspaperman, hunting guide, cowboy and dog musher. He was a feature writer and columnist for The Anchorage Daily News for 10 years and guided hunters in the Alaska Range and the Talkeetna Mountains. A resident of New Mexico now for more than 30 years, Randles is the prize-winning author of a dozen books, and is host of two podcasts and a television program. 

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