I know how the Pope felt on Sunday

I am nearly recovered from Easter. For those who don't know, on Good Friday the prissy, purtainical side of the Irish national character comes to the fore in the Smoke-Free State and all the pubs and offies shut as a mark of respect (forcing people to go on a big consumerist binge instead). Naturally, many people take this as their cue to stockpile massive stocks of booze and get unfeasibly drunk. Even now, I have scarcely levelled out from the effects of red wine, Calvados and a normal working weekend.

However, in a beautiful bit of synchronicity thousands of Irish soccer fans descended on Tel Aviv just in time for Purim: the one Jewish festival which is ("traditionally a time for dressing up, reveling and excessive drinking of alcohol" says Hareetz). I seem to recall that Purim also saw lots of clowns being put in places like Golders Green. You can probably make some gag about the Irish performance out of that.

If nothing else, the fans were lucky to escape the rain and all the reams of self-congratualtory guffe about the first anniversary of the Smoking Ban (the love of patting themselves on the back is another of the less attractive Irish character traits).

As one who rarely smokes cigarettes (and I have no intention of exposing myself to derision by standing out in the street for a Cuban cigar or a pipe) and am getting heartily sick of sitting by myself among half drunk pints while everyone troops out for a smoke. I fear it is yet another nail in the coffin for the art of conversation. Of course, the nannying prigs would suggest I hang out with non-smoking types, but really what sort of a person makes a minor health risk the basis for their whole social life?

More importantly, I have not seen one article that referred to the true pioneers of the smoking ban - Turkmenistan. All my hints to this effect have been ignored...