Yesterday was the day that Chicago celebrated St. Patrick’s day by dyeing the river green and having a parade. Not so very long ago, the parade was held on March 17 (the actual feast day of St. Patrick), regardless of whatever day of the week it actually fell on. But holding it on a weekend is the way that it happens now, and it’s something of a bonus for those who will still celebrate it on March 17.
I drove through downtown Chicago yesterday, watching the green-clad throngs moving toward the parade route and whatever watering holes they were planning to visit. And that’s when I noticed the green pants.
I don’t own any green pants, and I wouldn’t be too interested in buying a pair, either. Green shirts, green beads, green hats, and even silly green socks are fine, but for some reason green pants are over the line, at least in my book of fashion. But that doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with wearing green pants. My disapproval of them doesn’t mean that they should not be worn, on St. Patrick’s day or any other. I just need to put my own feelings about it aside and get over it.
This morning, while sitting in the service area of a car dealership, I read about some of the ongoing discussion about gay marriage. An article published on Slate.com specifically declared that opposition to gay marriage is not as “irrational” as opposition to interracial marriage once was. I don’t buy that argument, and social media being what it is, I made a comment to this effect, using the green pants analogy outlined above.
Same-sex marriage offends some people, in the way that wearing green pants offends me. But I don’t feel qualified to tell somebody else what they can’t wear. It’s a free country, as we like to say here in America, and that goes for the clothes we put on our bodies, as it does for who we choose to love, and how we make that love known to the rest of the world.
So wear your green pants, and marry the person you love, if that’s what you want to do. My corned beef will still taste just as good on March 17.