Kiss Me, I am Not Irish...but I Love Their Beer

Tis' that time of year again. St. Patrick's Day - when Leprechauns roam the city with no fear of becoming the victims of a hate crimes, co-workers wear excessive amounts of green (including underwear) and most importantly, the Guinness runneth free. Living in a metropolis has its perks yet again when it comes to cultural-ish (notice I added the "ish") celebrations. There city-wide activities, music festivals, parties and even a St. Patty's parade. This year we've chosen to attend the celebration at Claddaugh Irish Pub downtown. The Claddaugh has huge tents set up, live music, pipe bands and most importantly...lots of Guinness. I am doing the Shamrock Walk/Run with my co-workers in the morning, then I'll be heading to Jennie's to change and get prepared for the festivities. My one true hope (besides swimming in a bucket of Guinness and kissing a Blarney stone) would be for one of the many bands to play my favorite Irish tune - Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder. My second true hope would be to see the White Carl - which Jennie thinks she may have seen last weekend when she was at Claddaugh...but I am not putting all my Shamrocks in one basket.
[Update] : I have heard three people on my floor this afternoon discussing the joys of Shamrock Shakes from McDonalds. One individual said she'd had three since Friday. Vanilla shakes dyed green and flavored with mint...can you possibly get any more Irish than that? St. Patrick, nee Maewyn, himself is probably rolling over in his grave. These people probably think the Trinity is the father, son and the holy milkshake.