Jewish Leprechaun Offends Race Of Alcoholics

Both of the tabloids try to get a little action out of Mayor Bloomberg’s unfortunate attempt at humor concerning the Irish tendency toward dipsomania. The News goes with “Bloomy’s Blarney,” while the Post has it as “Irish Stew.” (Presumably “Mike’s Micks-Up” was deemed too offensive.) But what was the actual joke in question?

The mayor’s stand-up act fell flat Wednesday night when he told a crowd at the American Irish Historical Society that he’s used to seeing drunks hanging out the windows of its Fifth Avenue headquarters, around the corner from his town house on East 79th Street, the Irish Central Web site reported.

“I live in the neighborhood, right around the corner,” the mayor said. “Normally, when I walk by this building, there are a bunch of people that are totally inebriated hanging out the window. I know that’s a stereotype about the Irish, but nevertheless, we Jews around the corner think this.”

The mayor attempted to clarify his remarks, explaining that he “was talking about a party they have every year on St. Patrick’s Day, where it’s traditional to hang out the window and yell and scream, and it’s all in good fun,” and later issued a flat-out apology in which he expressed remorse and noted that he did not intend to offend anyone. Which is probably the sensible thing to do. We all know how sensitive the Irish get when you bring up the fact that their greatest contribution to world culture is Bushmill’s Single Malt. They get so angry and upset that the only thing that will calm them down is a nice, stiff drink. Or a drink of any kind, really; they’re not picky.

Still, this is one of those occasional moments where we feel for the mayor. Sure, it was a terrible attempt at humor, less hacky than half-formed. It contained none of the eloquence of the three wishes/pint of Guinness bit, or the one about the new pub where they get you laid. But this is Mike Bloomberg we’re talking about here. What exactly did anyone expect? I mean, let’s not forget, this is a guy who probably got beat up by seven different hockey players named Sully during his youth in Medford, Mass. The fact that he even made mention of the Jews should show that his heart, at least, was in the right place. The lesson to take away from this whole thing is that the only group who can make fun of Irish for being drunks is the Irish themselves, a fact that they happily demonstrate by their own actions every day at pretty much every bar in town with a shillelagh on the wall, the Chieftains on the jukebox and a watered-down bottle of Powers Gold Label near the cash register. God, those people really like their booze.