Dyngus Day in the Year of 13ths in Atlanta: Give Me a Pussy Willow Long Enough and a Pierogi on Which to Place It, and I Shall Rock the Party

The Southern Expedition continues into its fourth month. 2009, as previously reported, is the Year of 13ths. The number 13 continues to manifest itself in reality tv shows, Taylor Swift interviews, and holidays. Yes, the seasons come and go, holidays flitting by, accompanied by calls and cards from afar. With Easter’s passing, we have to address the following two issues:

1. Does the fact that two of the major influences on Triskaidekaphobia—Dyngus Day and the Number 13—are colliding on the same date this year, in a truly spectacular and unheralded display of coincidence, offer definitive scientific proof that this first year abroad in a new environ—uprooted from the lands of our ancestors, adrift in a sea of Southernness, beset by grits and melted chocolate bunnies with nary a fit cheese pierogi in site—that all these hardships will, as they were for our father’s father, and our grandfather’s father before him, be rewarded with a true and just blessing, as if from the blackened hand of Our Lady of Czestochowa herself, or St. Theresa, or, maybe, a ghostly apparition of the sure-to-be-sainted Pope John Paul II, that shall fuse the two influences into one powerful totem, like a Polish Voltron (Poltron?) excepting three of the five component lions, and presented in the tasteful shape of a Powerful Mechanized Pink Flamingo, wearing a crown of 13 falcon-shaped stars, instead of a lion, and, when presented in humanoid shape, transformed, that said humanoid shape will be revealed as the blessed Karol Wojtyla aka Pope John Paul II aka Beloved Kitchen Wall Decoration of Our Beloved Grandparents, God rest their souls, in this Year of 13ths, 2009, powerful uprooter and reshaper of all that is known and known? and,
2. What are we going to do for Dyngus Day?

We are not alone. These are the questions that everyone has on their minds these days. The answers, however, are, respectively, simple:

1. Yes
2. We’re going to improvise

Why?

We can’t go to the Broadway Market, per tradition, because we aren’t in our beloved Buffalo, NY, and there doesn’t appear to be an Atlanta equivalent. There aren’t good pierogis, and don’t get us started on vegetarian kielbasa. And, while we can now fire off water guns to our hearts’ content without risk of frostbite, we can’t find a pussy willow to save our dyngus.

Tsk, Southerners. They’ve got Mardi Gras with its numerous floats and baubles wired, but ask them to find you a pussy willow and its all uncomfortable stares and “I reckon”in’.

No matter. It’s the spirit, not the location. Wherever you may be, celebrate! If you’re in Buffalo, you can celebrate a little bit more easily. To really feel the Dyngus experience: put on traditional Polish costumes, a few tunes, maybe watch a (homemade) video, seal it with a kiss, and then a adult beverage. Or two.

If you drink enough, you will also learn some important truths. For example, check out this page: http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/. How many fingers do you see? Just about eight? After that third Tyskie, come back and check out the classic story of the Eight-Fingered Pontiff. The truth may surprise you!

Until then, say it loud and proud on this April 13th Dyngus Day: Mój poduszkowiec jest pełen węgorzy!

If someone says “Spierdalaj dupek!”, why, you’ve made a new friend!

Nie pije całe piwo!