Our toasting of St. Patrick's Day will turn Wisconsin green with envy

Minnesota drinks more on St. Patrick's Day than 48 other states, according to a study. Wisconsin is No. 13.

March 6, 2022 at 8:00PM
(iStockphoto/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

This is a surprise: According to a study done by the website time2play.com, Minnesota drinks more on St. Patrick's Day than 48 other states. Pennsylvania — yes, famously Irish Pennsylvania — is No. 1. Wisconsin is No. 13.

We all assume Wisconsinites drink gallons of cheap, mass-produced beer, because they have big corporate breweries. Minnesotans, being more civilized, drink fine craft beer made by bearded men who hand-select the hops with a tweezer and produce small batches of "Bob's Undrinkably Bitter IPA" or some such crafty creation.

But it turns out we have more Irish people than our cheesish neighbors. Wikipedia's account, based on the 2020 census, says Minnesota is 11.9% Irish, while Wisconsin is 10.8%.

They've been leaking Irish people for a while, it seems, but that can't account for the entire disparity: Minnesotans consume 4.19 drinks on St. Patrick's Day; Wisconsinites call it quits at 3.43 drinks.

Perhaps it's because of the cost. Those 3.43 drinks have an average cost of $48.54, whereas Minnesotans' average bar tab for the night is $40.64. So, if ...

Hold on, my phone's ringing.

"Hello? What? No, I don't know where they're spending that much, maybe they're drinking at Target Field. How did you get this number? Oh. All right. Thanks for being a subscriber. What? Oh, well, you should; we have to pay the bills, you know. Yes, I know that's not your problem. OK. Thanks."

How about that: I was writing on a document I had uploaded to Google, and the guy in charge of scanning all uploads for keywords to better customize my advertising experience saw the quote about bar prices. They're usually not so honest about it. Well, let me move this document to my desktop, sign out of Google, clear my browser history, empty all the cookies, reset the firewall and reformat my hard drive. I'll be right back.

OK, I'm back. Can't be too careful. Anyway, there was a time when you could drink lamentable amounts for pocket change. I have a shot glass from a Hennepin Avenue dive, and it's the size of my fist. It cost 65 cents to fill. Even allowing for inflation, it would be impossible to consume $40 worth of spirits at that price; you couldn't get through a 10-spot without your liver filing a restraining order.

Oh, dang it, I didn't log out of Facebook, and now I'm getting ads for vintage shot glasses and balloons. Why balloons? Oh, right: Their bots saw the word "inflation." Let me sign out of Facebook, delete the app, and reset my phone to factory defaults. Be right back.

OK, I think we're alone now. Anyway, you might wonder about that 4.19 drinks number. Do people order a fifth beer, then push away from the bar after three swigs? No, it's the average. And since you over there with the clear, bright eyes and water bottle full of wheat juice don't drink at all, that means some people are having more than 4.19 to offset your zero.

I think that's where the survey becomes less useful. It would be helpful to winnow out the people who don't drink at all on St. Patrick's Day, and see what the average is among those who already are eyeing the calendar, fingering the fake green grass on their Erin Go Bragh hats.

Let me go back to the website, to see if they made adjustments for ... hold on, what? My browser was on a news site, and now it has six ads for Erin Go Bragh Styrofoam hats, and the guy in the pop-up video talking about car insurance now has red hair and a shillelagh. How did this happen?

Ohhh. I had my phone on, I read that hat-related paragraph out loud to check how it sounded. I must have forgotten to disable an app that's always listening for a command. It's possibly Amazon Alexa. Let me kill the app and all its processes. I'll be right back; I'm going to get some paper and finish this in a secure room with a ballpoint pen.

Anyway, it's really not my favorite holiday. I do not enjoy drinking green fluids around people who insist they should be kissed solely on the basis of their ethnicity.

I was told once, erroneously, that I had "Scotch-Irish" in my background, and I never figured that one out. Ever looked at a map? They're rather distinct political entities separated by a body of water. My great-grandma was a mermaid, is that what you're saying? Would the cliched, thrifty Scotch part of me upbraid the Irish part for spending 65 whole cents on whisky?

I could go on, but it's time to transcribe this and enter it into the Strib computer system. And then I'll be done with these online gremlins for good.

UPDATE: I just got an e-mail from a travel company with great deals on airfares to Scotland and Ireland. It's enough to make one drink.

about the writer

about the writer

James Lileks

Columnist

James Lileks is a Star Tribune columnist.

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