odern Prehistoric Family.
My Kin, y’all.
Hearty Prairie folks.
Revered Ancestral Order of The Big Body Appendages And Other Unknowable Family Oddities.
Not a single “
Skinny-Lettuce-Wrap-Eating-Bitch” finicky picker at the family buffet.
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.
For those who prefer cutesy racial slurs.
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
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 …
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.
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.
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.
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:
The real sh!t.
Uncle Johnny Polka-freestyling it around the kitchen.
HOW MY TRIBE PARTIED
Up next: The Gfabulous Gmiterek’s