The Guardian News Blog, among others, asks that question and it's a good one, if not exactly up there with terrorist attacks and nuclear nonproliferation.
With a name like Shaun Mullen, the great-grandson (on my paternal side) of emigrees from County Mayo with more than a few relatives who relished the sauce, I've become a wee tetchy about the idea of wearing the green and drinking oneself into a state of oblivion in celebration all that is great and glorious about the Auld Sod. (Mind you, I did exactly that in my youth on a few occasions.)
I'll be celebrating this St. Paddy's Day by avoiding puddles of green puke left by college students on my Colorado-built mountain bike ride to Kiko's House. After a dinner of homemade clam sauce with farfelle pasta and Italian Locatelli Pecorino Romano cheese, I'll settle in with a pint of Dutch beer and perhaps a glass of single-malt Scotch while I watch the United States NCAA Basketball tournament on my Japanese television and listen to the fabulous "Funky Friday" African-American funk music show webcast on WXPN-FM in Philadelphia.