Backhanded Compliments to the Irish : In a typical celebration of ridicule, a St. Patrick’s Day card reads: “What do you call an Irishman on St. Patty’s Day?” Answer: “A cab.”

African Americans have February dedicated as Black History Month. Gays and lesbians have June as their month of pride. The Chinese and Koreans have entire sections of the city dedicated to their history and culture. And here in Los Angeles, what do the Irish get?

Shamrock shakes at McDonald’s.

St. Patrick’s Day is once more upon us. And this means that most of the population, whether they even know who Dennis Day is, will be participating in the “wearing o’ the green,” talking about the wee people and trying to drink as much Irish coffee as humanly possible.

All the bars on Ventura Boulevard will become Irish pubs for the night as everyone gathers around the bar to sing “Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral” and wear ridiculous green derbies and bow ties. Television stations will drag out “Darby O’Gill and the Little People,” “The Quiet Man” and any movie starring Pat O’Brien or Maureen O’Hara, showing those happy Irish people reeling and drinking with nary a problem that can’t be solved by a pint of Guinness.

Corned beef and cabbage will be served at Mexican restaurants, and Japanese businessmen will sport buttons proclaiming them “Honorary Irishman.” No one seems a bit concerned that the closest most of these people have come to the Emerald Isle is showering with Irish Spring soap.

With all the cries for political correctness and multiculturalism today, it seems odd that every March 17 Americans love to perpetuate the Irish stereotype and strive to get as drunk as Paddy’s pig, jump up and down in a clumsy “jig” and go around bleating, “Top o’ the morning to ya” in their best Barry Fitzgerald brogue. Rather than recall the vast historical and cultural advancements of the Irish, everyone seems intent on having the biggest hangover on March 18.

Due to the Irish’s own self-deprecating humor, there isn’t a lot of time dedicated to remembering the potato famine and the Easter rebellion that caused so many of our ancestors to seek a new life in America. There is little recollection of the Irish ghettos that sprang up or the discrimination in the days of “Irish Need Not Apply” signs or even of the fight for independence that continues to this day.

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And while the grand literary contributions the Irish have made, from Swift to Shaw to Yeats to Joyce, are downplayed, you can bet everyone down at Ireland’s 32 knows the words to “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?”

The Irish, while being celebrated on St. Patrick’s Day, often seem ridiculed at the same time. A typical greeting card reads: “What do you call an Irishman on St. Patty’s Day?” Answer: “A cab.”

Imagine the reactions of other nationalities if, for example, on Martin Luther King Day, McDonald’s made McChittlins and McHamhocks. Or if on Cinco de Mayo, Anglos wore sombreros and feigned Speedy Gonzales accents. Or if during Chinese New Year, everyone wore coolie hats and drank plum wine until passing out.

Society has done away with the Frito Bandito, Sambo’s restaurants and Charlie Chan, yet many children are introduced to the Irish via the stereotypical leprechaun hawking Lucky Charms cereal with a phony brogue as lilting as fingernails on a blackboard.

But ask an Irishman if all this political incorrectness bothers him, and chances are he’ll laugh at the idea of a socially acceptable St. Pat’s Day.

After all, it is the Irish’s sense of humor that has helped us get through our own rich and somewhat troubled past. We’re the first to laugh at ourselves (although “Divil a man to say a word agin me”) and the last to take offense at ignorance. Sometimes, political correctness has to take a back seat to a good hooley. St. Pat’s is the one day when the entire world wants to be Irish, and it’s hard to refuse a compliment like that.

We Irish are fiercely proud of our contribution to society and anxious for all to appreciate our advances. But while we are the first to raise our glasses in cheer and our voices in song, we can only hope that perhaps this will be the year people will remember and appreciate the Irish for more than just green beer, the Blarney stone or a children’s breakfast cereal that is “magically delicious.”