Robert Burns had it right when he wrote his poem “To a Mouse”:

 But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
          Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
          For promis’d joy!

Today was St. Patrick’s day, supposedly a low-key holiday. Martine and I had a sudden yearning for corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes, so we decided to go to the Original Farmers’ Market at 3rd Street and Fairfax. We did not anticipate any hitches. More fool us!

It started with the trip to the restaurant we had picked, Magee’s, which was founded in 1917. We took the 10 Freeway to the Fairfax exit and slowly worked our way through heavy traffic which wiped out any advantage to taking the freeway.

Then, at the Farmers’ Market, there was a huge mob scene at Magee’s, with a long line waiting a place an order and an even longer line waiting for pickup. Most of the crowd were decked in various shades of green, while Martine and I were not. After waiting for the line to inch forward, we made the one good decision of the day, which was to get our corned beef and cabbage at DuPar’s.

There wasn’t even a big line at DuPar’s, which was strange as I think it is a better restaurant. Maybe it doesn’t sound Irish enough. In any case, we had a delicious meal.

If that was all that happened, I would have counted it as a good day. But then there was the trip home. Apparently, today was the day of the Los Angeles Marathon. Every year around this time, they take over the streets in a crescent-shaped swath from downtown to Santa Monica, forcing traffic from normally busy streets onto such parallel roads as Sunset, Olympic, and Pico. I had decided to take LaCienega to Olympic and head due west.

With me were thousands of other motorists. Inching forward and madly changing lanes every few feet. It took us an hour to get home. I did not entertain any kind wishes toward the marathoners. In fact, I was on the edge of cursing them with an old Hungarian anathema. Wisely, I refrained. They didn’t know I was going to venture into their bailiwick for corned beef and cabbage.