It’s Cinco de Mayo, people. And for just about everybody and their cousins in my neck of the country, that means it’s time to party.
This particular “holiday” hasn’t grabbed me yet. I’m not terribly surprised, as I have no real history with it. Let’s face it – history alone is enough to push some of us to maintain traditions, even when certain days have no real meaning for us. Easter? For me that means eating ham. St. Patrick’s Day? For me that means eating corned beef and Irish soda bread.
Wait a minute. It would seem certain days only warrant circling on my calendar when food is involved. Hmm. So why isn’t Cinco de Mayo more important? I mean, I love Mexican food. Eat it all the time and…
Ah. That’s it. I don’t need a particular day to trigger my eating of Mexican food, as it’s consumed pretty regularly. Other foods – like ham and corned beef – are not so common for me. And frankly, I don’t need an excuse to drink beer. So no-thank-you, Corona. I’ll pass.
But hey – if you’re partying on this 5th of May, enjoy the heck out of yourself, will ya? And enjoy those chips and salsa. (Do yourself a favor and put out a bowl of sour cream next to that salsa. Great addition!) Maybe have a taco or two. (I’m partial to lingua or carnitas.) And maybe don’t drive drunk, um-kay? Some of us are rather keen on staying alive. I mean, we’ve got Armed Forces Day to celebrate in a couple of weeks, for cry-eye.
4 words. Marg. A. Rit. A.