Among Other Things, by Paul Fugleberg

Happy are those who can laugh at themselves. Happier are those who can accept good-natured teasing and are able to even enhance it. That goes for individuals, groups, teams — even ethnic groups.

Folks who come to mind are those of Irish and Norwegian descent. They seem to have an innate sense of humor that enables them to enjoy outlandish stories about each other and on themselves.

A few years ago Svend Larsen in the Polson Sons of Norway monthly newsletter told about the legendary claim that St. Patrick was responsible for driving snakes out of Ireland. Not so. He wrote: “St. Patrick’s Day is celebrated because that was the date on which the Irish drove the Norwegians out of Ireland.”

Many centuries ago, some Norwegians invaded Ireland to escape the bitterness of the Norwegian winter.

Ireland was having a famine at the time and food was scarce. The Norwegians were eating almost all the fish caught in the area, leaving the Irish only potatoes to eat. St. Patrick, taking matters into his own hands, as most Irish are known to do, decided that the Norwegians had to go.

Secretly he organized the IRATRION (Irish Republican Army to Rid Ireland of Norwegians). Irish members of IRATRION passed a law in Ireland prohibiting merchants from selling ice boxes and ice to the Norwegians in the hope that their fish would spoil. This would force the Norwegians to a colder climate where their fish would not spoil.

Well, the fish spoiled, all right, but the Norwegians, as everyone today knows, thrive on spoiled fish.

So, faced with failure, the desperate Irishmen sneaked into the Norwegians’ fish storage caves in the dead of night and sprinkled the fish with lye, hoping to poison the invaders. But the Norwegians thought that this only added to the flavor of the fish. They liked it so much that they called it LUTEFISK, which is Norwegian for “luscious fish.”

Matters became even worse for the Irishmen when the Norwegians started taking over the potato crop and making something called LEFSE. Poor St. Patrick was at his wits’ end and he blew his top and told all the Norwegians to “go to H#%!”

So they all got into their boats and emigrated to Minnesota and the Dakotas – the only other paradise on Earth where smelly fish, old potatoes and plenty of cold weather could be found in abundance.

What do you suppose the Sons of Norway had at their March meeting? Corned beef and cabbage!