As we draw closer to that special time of year — readying ourselves for parades from Peoria to Paris, why don’t we take a closer look at the real scope of influence that emanates from this Celtic island about the size of Maine . . .

5. Ever wonder why so many kids have Irish surnames as their first names? I personally know multiple Logans, Ryans, Shannons, Dylans, Kennedys, Finns, Connors, MacKenzies, Barretts, and even Rowans. They’re everywhere. Why? Why are those names umpteen times better than Hans or Neville or Snur? How come nobody wants to cuddle a little Vlad? Sad little Vlad.

4. My family tree was largely seeded in Germany — and the same can be said of most Americans. However, I neither know nor care which town in Germany. Maybe you can blame that on two World Wars, but you should also know that I’ve got Norwegians back there, too, and I also have no idea where specifically they sprung from.

But the Irish side? They came from Cork. The city and the county. It’s on the southern west coast, doncha know. Been there, done that, drank the pint.

3. Ireland does not have the world’s tallest tower or the most fabulous cathedral. There’s no snorkeling. The food is nothing to write home about. It’s not known for nightclubs or wildlife or beaches or hard bodies or pyramids. It rains a lot. Oh, and they’ve kind of been at war off and on for a hundred years or so. Still, about 7 million foreigners visit Ireland every year. Apparently, for pretty painted doors and fishermen’s sweaters. What the hell?

2. Here’s a quiz: what’s the logo for India? Or for Arizona? You know, a small, iconic thumbnail image that even a 5-year old child raised by hamsters could draw and you’d immediately recognize. If you think you have one, ask yourself — maybe it’s a Dutch windmill or a even a hammer and sickle — is it simple enough to be part of a font? Is it simple enough to be a damn breakfast cereal? Were you just fondly remembering your childhood in Bolivia eating cereal shaped like llamas? No, you weren’t. No one was. If you don’t know it’s a shamrock, then that must be your seeing eye dog peeing on my foot.

1. The United States has the 4th of July, the U.K. has the Queen’s birthday. I’m wondering — which foreign holiday requires your city or town to add extra police officers and close off streets for huge celebrations every year? Remember, it’s not just in your neck of the woods, it’s pretty much every town, including Waikiki, Quebec, Anchorage, Sydney, Munich, Moscow, and Seoul. No, you can’t think of any, there are none. Nothing except St. freaking Patrick’s Day.

It’s less than a month away. I think that whether you deeply partake or choose to ignore the mighty global craic that is St. Pat’s, we should all stop for just a moment and at least raise a glass to this marketing superpower, this perpetual motion, word-of-mouth referral engine that basically blows Coca-Cola out of the water in international propaganda saturation. This smallish, poorish, greenish and dampish corner of the world, but a mere wee backwash in the Atlantic, with only words to recommend it.

To words, then. Slainte!

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