St. Patrick's Day can kinda suck in Chicago

This shouldn't come as a surprise to anybody who really thinks about it (apparently I didn't really think about).

It sucked much in the same way it would suck to be in Times Square on New Years Eve, Las Vegas for tip-off of the Final Four, New Orleans on Mardi Gras or South By Southwest — these supposed epic moments/events which we all at some times in our lives feel the need to be a part of.

As a society we're deeply intrigued by the concept of being there. We want to be there to somehow gain some greater perspective on life or the particular phenomena we've gone to experience or at least brag to our friends about it. This concept of being there is everywhere, from sporting events, to concerts, to family vacations in clichéd touristy destinations.

The trick is, being there (especially with these not necessarily imaginative experiences) usually means we're doing so with thousands of others in uncomfortable circumstances that frequently end up ruining — or at least slightly diminishing — the experience in some way.

Case in point, Saturday. Partying in Chicago — a predominately Irish Catholic town with a reputation for hard drinking — on a St. Patrick's Day that falls on a weekend sounded like a great idea. I figured it'd be a blast. A grand party. I wanted to be there.

However, being there meant standing in line for 15 minutes to get into a bar, then after finally getting in one, being practically dry humped by the guys next to me because it was so crowded, waiting 15 minutes for a Guinness, then eventually spending $20 for it because the disoriented server forgot who you were and that she owed you change.

Because of this I wasn't able to enjoy myself at all and, ironically, didn't get the least bit intoxicated.

It brought me back to the same question I had while standing like a sardine with 65,000 other hot, sweaty people while headliners the Red Hot Chili Peppers closed Lollapalooza last summer and trying to watch this year's Super Bowl at a bar in Chicago (all events I was hoping would be some sort of zen-like transcendent experience, but wound up being ultimately dissatisfying.)

What's the point of being there when being there usually sucks?

The answer to this question is creating our own there.

So next year on St. Patrick's Day, in order to capture the true essence of the holiday (which is getting sauced in intimate quarters while a band with bagpipes plays in the background), I'm going to grab some close friends, a couple CDs of Celtic music, a shit ton of beer and whiskey and bring them to my living room (which is what most authentic Irish pubs resemble anyway).

We'll create our own hoopla, likely have more fun, save money, and if a fight should break out, it can go on for as long as it need be.