June 17, 2006
A Polish-Catholic Girl Like Me - Part Two
Here’s a list of things that pretty much define my heritage. I can honestly tell you that every single one of these things is true in my family (My notes are in bullets):
If you come from Chicago, Buffalo, Cleveland, Hamtramck, or Milwaukee there is a large church called “Saint Stanislaus,” or “Saint Hedwig,” within one block of your childhood home (that is, unless you’re one of those suburban exiles, in which case the church is within one block of your babcia’s house!)
- Grandma Alice and Grandpa Adolph lived in Chicago for two years. Alice worked for the Sun Beam Coffe Pot Factory and Adolph worked for the Campbell’s Soup Co. My mother Monica was born in Nov of 1951 and they moved back to Wisconsin and bought a farm. They liked going to church at St. Stanislaus-Kostas church which was the largest Polish Catholic church in Chicago until the Kennedy Expressway was built directly behind it causing many Polish immigrants to move to other parts of the city.
The neighborhood you grew up in is called “Little Warsaw,” “Slavic Village,” “Polish Hill,” “Polonia” or something of that sort.
- There is a town near where I live called Polonia. My great-great Uncle Andrew Landowski was a priest at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Polonia which was a predominently Polish town.
You like to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day but only because “the Irish are oppressed too”!
- We drink on St. Patty’s (I was born on that day) and eat a traditional kielbasa and kraut dish as opposed to corned beef and cabbage. I know, we’re backwards.
Your knowledge of the Polish language is limited to ‘naughty’ words (e.g., dupja, glowno, gaczki, etc), names for food (e.g, pierogi, kapusta, etc), and drinking toasts (e.g., nazdrowie, sto lat, etc).
You occasionally add the suffix “-ski” to English words for no apparent reason (e.g., “I’m gonna go put the car-ski in the garage-ski”).
If you also happen to know a few basic conversational phrases in Polish, you are considered “old school” by friends and relatives.
You call your grandma “babcia” or “buszia” and your grandpa “dziadzia.”
- All I can say is this: “Dupja tisz! Jak sa wy? Niech tanczyc” Which is “Dumb ass, How are you? Let’s go dance!” (and several other phrases that I can’t write - I never learned to write in Polish)
You know how to dance the polka, but you only do it at weddings after kicking back a few generous shots of vodka. You like to drink. Especially beer. Especially cheap beer.
- I dance the Polka anytime. I’m not shy. I know several different styles of Polka dancing.
- Yes, we love our beer. You can even find my relatives drinking Schlitz, Blatz and Old Milwaukee sometimes!
When frustrated, you slap your forehead, shake your head, and say “O Yezus Marija!”
- Grandma Alice would say this often and then say a prayer for taking the Lord’s name in vain.
You have one grandma that wears a babushka and galoshes every single day of the year and another grandma that wears a lot of jewelry and too much make-up.
You have a grandma who uses every single part of animal carcasses to make sausages , soups, dumplings, etc. (eg Czarnina - Duck’s Blood Soup)
- Grandma Alice never left the house without her “rouge” and “eybrows” on or her hair done. And she wore lots of bangle bracelets.
- Grandma Helen wore her babushka and galoshes every day unless she was going to a wedding. She also made czarnina and put everything but the kitchen sink in there.
You have at least one uncle named “Stan,” “Stash.” or “Franek”
- There’s a bar in town called “Stash & Rosies”
- My father’s name is Frank but my grandmother called him “Franek”.
You have at least one relative who works, or used to work, for the Big Three.
- Great-great uncle was a priest and grandma’s cousin was a nun.
Your relatives have a sincere devotion to saints, the Blessed Virgin, the Pope, the Democratic Party (until old age when they convert to Republicans), the U.S. Steelworkers, etc.
- You should have seen the celebration when Pope John Paul II became Pope! He was from Poland!
Your grandma has a shrine complete with votive candles and a picture of the “Our Lady of Czestochowa” or “Infant of Prague.”
- Not to mention the statues of the Virgin Mary and St. Frances in the garden outside.
Your parents have at least one crucifix or religious picture mounted on a wall in their house with palms tucked behind it. Your grandparents and other relatives habitually kiss everyone they meet.
- All my relatives have “The Last Supper” picture hanging on the wall by the dining table. Yes, even me. And yes, there are palms tucked behind it. -nodding-
You refer to your two dozen or so cousins by childhood nicknames (e.g., Stannie, Nicky, Louie, Joey, Chickie, Honey, Kasia, etc.) irrespective of their ages.
You refer to aunts by pet names (e.g., Aunt Honey, Aunt Chickie, Jo-Jo, Aunt Czucz, etc).
- I can’t even tell you how many crazy names we call our relatives by. Aunt Flasher, Uncle Guber, Cousin Crank. Uh huh. I know.
You regularly attend Friday fish fries, harvest festivals, parish festivals, Vegas nights, and/or bingo.
You bowl regularly and/or on a team sponsored by a local bar.
- I’ve been to two church picnics so far and danced with all my second and third cousins.
- I’ve played softball, volleyball, darts and bowled on bar league’s - sponsored by my dad’s bar.
You get your food blessed at Easter and your house blessed at Christmas time. Your family has a wigilia meal on Christmas Eve at which you share oplatki.
You like to put sour cream, horseradish, and/or beer on everything you eat.
Your family likes to play card games like hearts and pinochle, and this often culminates in full-scale brawls.
You always prefer rye bread to white or wheat. Your dad has forced you to eat horseradish, claiming that it will “put hair on your chest” (even if you’re a female!).
- It’s mandatory to share oplatki. That’s all I’m sayin’.
- My father insists everything will put hair on one’s chest.
- And we have pinochle tournaments at every holiday gathering or family reunion.
- And rye bread is a must in our house. Dawson loves it more than white bread.
You like to go “mushroom hunting” and “berry picking”.
- Grandma Alice loved berry picking. Sometimes we’d go for a drive in the country and she’d demand we stop the car to pick asparagus on the side of the road, too.
People in your family have their wedding receptions at places called “Polish Legion Hall,” “Sacred Heart Center,” “Starlite Ballroom” or the Moose Lodge. etc.
You would never dream of having a dee-jay at your wedding reception and hire the most expensive “Chicago Style” Polka band, like Eddy Blazonczyk, Lenny Gomulka, Toledo Polka Motion or the Dyna-Brass.
You know the words to “Sto Lat” and sing it at all birthday parties. You can out drink all of your friends (and if you’re a woman, you can out drink most men).
- My wedding reception was at Starlite Ballroom and Norm Dombrowski & The Happy Notes played at my wedding.
- We go to a bar on our birthdays and drink shots of Jzewynowka which is Polish Blackberry Brandy.
You have waited in line at a church or bakery to buy pierogi or paczki (ponczka).
- Hell, we have Poncka dances here. Seriously. Dad likes to joke about dancing around the ponczkas.
You frequently add “dere” (there) and/or “ya know” to the end of sentences. Words like kiszka, kielbasa, and kolaczki actually mean something to you.
Your grandparents say things like “Youse two kids go outside and play” and the add an ’s’ to everything. “I went to Walmart’s to get some goczka’s “(underwear).
You know the difference between Czechs, Slovaks, and Slovenes, and you think they’re all inferior to Poles despite the numerous glaring similarities.
You used to get a day off from school on Saint Joseph’s Day (March 19). You actually know who Kosciuszko and Pulaski are, and why they’re important.
- I still have relatives who speak with a Polish accent. And my mother remembers having no school for St. Josepth’s Day.
You have at least one relative who plays the accordion or concertina.
- My mom plays the concertina, my uncle plays the trumpet in a polka band, my father once played bass guitar in a polka band and my cousin played the accordian for a while.
You are inclined to blame all the world’s ills on Germans and Russians.
You have an easier time getting along with Irishmen and Italians than with non-Polish Slavs.
- My great aunt used to call her enemies “Nazis”. So politically incorrect, but back in the “old days” I don’t think she knew any better.
You’re either completely overdressed or completely underdressed for every occasion.
If you’re a woman, you wear make-up at all times - even if it’s 90 degrees outside and you’re 88 years old.
Your idea of “healthy” is boiled pierogi, light beer, and filtered cigarettes.
You walk into a crowd of people you don’t know and talk to them like they’re your best friends in the whole world.
You hoard vast amounts of money in your house, usually in your basement.
You have at least one bar in your house - usually in the basement.
Your family always has an excuse to hold a “poprawinie” - e.g., when someone dies, or when someone gets married.
You’ve never been to Poland, but you have mysterious relatives there to whom you send gifts and money every Christmas.
Your front yard is filled with lawn ornaments - e.g., pink flamingos, jockey, Mary in the halfshell, old clawfoot tubs used as flower beds, etc.
You have relatives who are priests and nuns.
You collect “prayer cards” from funerals. You or someone in your family owns highly outdated Dodge or Plymouth.
- My mother has every prayer card from every funeral she’s attended and prays for them by saying the rosary once or twice a week.
You regularly attend Mass but spend most of the ceremony sleeping and/or looking at the parish bulletin.
You’re haven’t been a practicing Catholic for years but everyone in your family insists that it’s “just a phase.”
You often visit cemeteries, light votive candles for dead relatives, and generally spend an unhealthy amount of time obsessing about death.
You like to gossip and generally talk too much and too loud.
People often have trouble pronouncing your last name.
Your family is so loyal that even a second cousin would take a bullet for you.
You drink your coffee black and take your liquor straight up.
- All I can do is nod, laugh and smile at the rest of thoe above. I keep picturing various relatives who do all of these things. I’d be here for days if I started talking about them!
There you go - the lengthiest definiton of my family and heritage ever. I hope you’ve at least had a laugh or two, or else I’ve bored you silly.
