A St. Patty's Day Story

About six years ago, I was drinking at a hotel bar in Kansas City on St. Patty's. I was out of town, so I couldn't really party it up. But what happened turned out to be a fun time and one of those, wow, the world is really small moments.

After a few beers, I started chatting with a couple of Irish fellows at the bar who were getting loaded. They were quite proud of their country and their holiday, so they decided to lead us in a round of Irish folk songs. Pretty soon, the whole bar was singing along and the Jameson's shots started really flowing.

After the singing died down, I was sitting next to one of the mates. We started talking about where he was from, what he was doing in KC, etc. Turns out, he is from Ireland and now lives in Iceland since his wife is from there. He filled me in on the secret that Iceland is green and Greenland is ice. He was in KC because he was a pilot for Icelandic Air (or something like that), headed home tomorrow.

I thought this was all very cool, but here's where it gets interesting. He asks me where I am from and I tell him Dallas. He says he spent a few years in Dallas going to Dallas Baptist University and studying in the ESL program. (I guess Irish English is not the same--and judging from my difficulties understanding his drunken, accented-slur, I totally understand). I am amazed at this since my Dad co-founded the DBU ESL program. I mention my father's name and it turns out that my dad recruited him to the program, although my dad left before he actually arrived.

It's a small world after all. An Irishman pilot who lives in Iceland meets a born-and-bred Texan living in Virginia in a hotel bar in Kansas City, and it just so turns out that the Irishman was recruited by and went to the Texan's father's ESL program in Dallas. Wrap your head around that one for a while.

Sorry, I don't remember any of the Irish folksongs. I can, however, still sing the "Yellow Rose of Texas" and "Deep in the Heart of Texas," in case you're wondering.