In Boston's Little Italy, every weekend throughout the summer, they celebrate the birth of a different famous Italian saint. Each weekend there's food, there's parades, there's food, wall-to-wall people, there's food. Money gets thrown out of windows as a gift to the saint of the weekend. The money gets pinned to a statue of a saint that is carried all around the neighborhood. Each weekend these festivals bring in a lot of tourists and a lot of money for the neighborhood.

On one of my visits to Little Italy I overheard two men talking. One said to the other, "Aint it a miracle that all these saints were born, not only on different weekends, but on Sunday and only in the summer."

A few weeks later I was visiting the neighborhood again, and I overheard another local conversation. One man said, "You know that Italian Saint who preserves the Irish? They just found out that he wasn't a real saint."

His friend said, "Well, there goes my weekend."