Meet The Boyko’s: Bo-ye!

A Modern Prehistoric Family.

My Kin, y’all.

Lovely people.

Hearty Prairie folks.

Salt-of-the-Earth, really.

Revered Ancestral Order of The Big Body Appendages And Other Unknowable Family Oddities.

TRUE ENDOMORPHS

Not a single “Skinny-Lettuce-Wrap-Eating-Bitch” finicky picker at the family buffet.

Blessed Appetite-enablers.

Because Diets are for Dinks, and:

Defibrillator Pads always make the best Stocking Stuffers, Baba.”

When deep fried pork rinds are the preeminent hors d’oeuvre of choice.

And, those otherworldly Galaretka – Pigs Feet in Aspic (Pork Jelly) – were snapped up (not by me) faster than a trough of savoury kapusta (cabbage) and onion stuffed pierogis fried in bacon fat.

MY MATERNAL TRIBE

Descends from Eastern Europe.

A passive-contentious amalgamation of Polish and Ukrainian emigres.

Puke’s.

For those who prefer cutesy racial slurs.

I don’t.

ANCESTRALLY-SPEAKING

There’s the Fabulous Gmiterek’s – my maternal Grandfather Bartholomew’s clan of Hedonistic Hellions – we’ll explore the implausibility of their existence a little later …

And, the Bodacious Boyko’s on my Grandmother Annie’s – Baba’s – side.

Courtesy of The Smarty Pants at Wikipedia:

“Boykos … are a Ukrainian ethnographic group located in the Carpathian Mountains of Ukraine, Poland … and speak a dialect of the Ukrainian language …”

FUN FACT CONFESSION #1

Bo-ye.

Means, Yes.

90’s Street Slang, if you care to remember …

Ali G.’s (Sacha Baron Cohen): “Bo ya ka sha!” …

… Jamaican patois: “Here, me now!”

And, also, literally, “Yes, Kasha.”

Toasted Buckwheat Groats.

Its origins are traced directly to my ancestors – The Magnificent Carpathian Highlanders.

Stay with me …

BOYKO

The name is thought to originate in their patterns of speech.

Specifically, the use of the affirmative exclamation, “Boy-ye!”

Also, meaning, The Only or Because It Is So.

Nearly Divine.

Epic.

Okay, then.

THE BODACIOUS BOYKOS

Slavic First Nations … 

An autochthonous population, you say?

… With specific language and dialectal features – original inhabitant of a place, i.e. indigenous rather than descended from migrants or colonists.

We were there first, alright.

Then, we left.

By boat.

Maybe, we’ll go back.

A dandy place to wait out the Millennial Apocalypse.

GREAT UNCLE JOHNNY

The Greatest Boyko.

My Grandmother’s older brother.

Memories of Uncle John are reduced to an un-see-able vision.

You should know this:

A near dead ringer for Marlon Brando’s Don Corleone.  

This is not superfluous fluff.

He was Old School Gangster.

FUN FACT CONFESSION #2

My Uncles Gmiterek – mom’s brothers – are notable drinkers of alcohol.

Like Hank Jr. sang, “Family Tradition.”

Whiskey and Vodka.

Highballs for breakfast.

Beer for dessert.

No preference.

Or order.

They’re just good at it.

Were – very past tense – once upon a time …

When they lived large.

BACK TO THE ORIGINAL J-ROCK, JOHNNY B …

A quiver of silver mustachioed upper lip.

Gleaming bald dome, polished diamond bright, the perfect resting spot for the unimaginable:

A shot glass filled with Rye Whiskey balanced on his head.

And this …

A thick ring of garlicky Kielbasa – polish sausage – hooked around his neck.

Queue the accordion, Walter.

Jam out the Polka beats:

“Hey, Hey Baba Reba … E-I, E-I, E-I-O …”

The real sh!t.

Uncle Johnny Polka-freestyling it around the kitchen.

Never.

Spilling.

A.

Drop.

HOW MY TRIBE PARTIED

Pork Fat.

Hard Liquor.

Polka Beats.

Brudne Kurwa.

Up next: The Gfabulous Gmiterek’s