March 15, 2014. The City of Chicago held its St. Patrick's Day parade two days before the holiday in order to have it on Saturday, and I backed out of my plan to go see it and shoot it, since, you know, morning and all that. Rolling around town helping a friend look at apartments, I saw plenty of revelers, many of the type that find St. Patty's to be an excuse, if not an imperative, for vigorous dawn-til-blackout drinking. These two seemed fine as far as intoxication levels, though I was beyond my tolerance for cheesy leprechaun gear by the time I noticed my first group of party-bound people coming out of a building to hail a cab at eleven a.m. When I was getting on a train to go home around four o'clock, there was an alarming number of people lurching down the street in drunken zigzags and passed out on the train. I'm hoping this means I can celebrate St. Patrick's Day on St. Patrick's Day in a relatively sane environment.
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