http://www.dotnews.com/stpats03.html By Jim O'Sullivan
Newspapers and airwaves choked with the final drumbeats before war and the echoes were audible in Edward Ryan Hall at the Iron Workers Local 7 building on Old Colony Ave. Each speaker dropped the blarney and the jibes for a few seconds of tribute to the troops.
But that was about the only thing checking the merriment on Sunday, when elected officials once again convened for the annual St. Patrick's Day Breakfast in Southie, skewering each other and even themselves in one of the city's grand political traditions. From the world-famous to those known only locally, the professional flesh-pressers took to the dais and tried to score points through a mix of comedic timing and insider humor that left the 600-strong, packed-house crowd either choking on the corned beef or waiting for a better punch line.
The morning's grandest performance was John Kerry's. The junior senator entered to rousing applause and a fawning introduction from Congressman Steve Lynch, then delivered the day's best line with, "Who said I didn't have the matzo balls to be here?" - a jab at the recent controversy about the presidential candidate's ethnic heritage. He sparred a bit with the state's chief executive, commiserating over their shared attention to all things follicular, then added, "It's great being here with the Governor - my money's on Bulger," to hoots and cheers from a crowd partisan to the event's longtime and erstwhile host.
The new host, in his second year, was gracious and reserved, gently targeting Kerry and Romney, but doing most of his microphone work with a solid series of Irish songs. In fine voice that day, Hart led renditions of "Wild Colonial Boy" (which had Mitt the Decidedly Non-Irish reading from the program's printed lyrics), "Irish Rover," "Hello, Patsy Fagan," and, of course, "Southie Is My Hometown." Hart, who fell under criticism last year for the breakfast's alleged lack of diversity, hustled the event along as best as possible, not an easy task when the podium is shared by a dozen or so folks in love with the sound of their own voices.
Enter Jimmy Kelly, the South Boston city councillor who missed the breakfast while recovering from surgery. Kelly dialed in (filling the role often occupied by the president of the United States) and cracked up the crowd and the pols - not with biting wit, but by the length of his meandering monologue which ranged from extended thank-yous for well-wishers to a long, involved, and not particularly funny joke loosely involving Marty Walsh's uncle.
Representative Walsh, along with Maura Doyle and Maureen Feeney one of several Dorchester politicians on the dais, complained that much of his material was lost once Kerry strutted in, but earned laughs with his prop: a roll of duct tape for Worcester State Senator Guy Glodis, a Republican whose performance last years was judged widely as a bit over-the-top.
This year's humor seemed less acerbic, many observers said. Michael Callahan, the burly and affable governor's councilor who said he's performed at the breakfast for a decade or so, attributed this year's muted humor to a national mood darkened by a flagging economy and the notion of war. "Life in general is tamer," Callahan told the Reporter after breakfast had given way to the parade. "Life seems to be slowing down everywhere."
Speaker of the House Tom Finneran, whose quick tongue suit well events of this ilk, agreed that this year's breakfast "I think it went terrifically," Finneran said. "Nobody got out of control, as sometimes happens at these things."
Finneran, too, felt that Kerry's showing was a good one, saying the surprise guest "hit the ball very, very solid." But it was Finneran's foe in budget battles, Romney, who had stolen the show until that point. Reading from a script of well-prepared jokes, Romney peppered targets like Kerry and Bulger, but was careful to take aim at himself: "I think it goes beyond the pale for the MDC to suggest that he donate his heart to me," a reference to his proposed dissolution of the Metropolitan District Commission.
So it was that the event's two biggest names - and perhaps not coincidentally, those with the most disposable income to direct at arguably frivolous expenses like jokewriters that are not blanketed by the payrolls at the whim of state legislators - turned out two of the finest appearances.
But a new face never before seen at the breakfast also made a splash: new Suffolk County Sheriff Andrea Cabral delivered a set greeted jovially by the crowd, several of whom approached her after the breakfast with congratulations.
"I was scared to death," Cabral said. "There are veterans up there that do this all the time. I was, jeez, scared to death."
Cabral killed 'em with a tongue-in-cheek civics lesson related via a cow parable ("You're a Republican, you have two cows, your neighbor has none - so what?"), but really scored with a gag about her misinterpretation of the term "black Irish," grinning, "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just the hair and the eyes," to grand applause.
"This is Southie's breakfast," Cabral said later. "The joke wasn't so much a joke on the lack of people of color here as it was a parody of my understanding of what black Irish meant. It is what it is, it's neighborhood stuff."
And so, on a Sunday morning with a crowd usually content to spend an hour or so in church, hundreds elbowed and squeezed their way into a church of a different kind; for one morning, a union hall in Southie became a cathedral to the political bonhomie and gamesmanship so celebrated here in Boston and so recognized here by others.
"It was absolutely superb," said Fred Pettinella, a Guy Glodis supporter from Worcester, who admitted his Italian name might have made him persona non grata. "With all that Irish blood in there, if there was any other blood, they'd pour it down the sink."
Jim O'Sullivan is a correspondent for the Dorchester Reporter.