MIND RESET

click to enlarge summer 1965

MIND RESET
(July 2008)

Our neighbor, Brenda, is selling her house and wants us to buy it and turn into "slum lords." She suggested we should bring our parents from Poland too. What Brenda does not know that the times when it was so difficult in Poland that everybody wanted to get out and come to the US are long over. Now it's them targeting us with questions like "what are we still doing here?" But it's not Brenda's fault as no TV stations reported times changing for Central Europeans. She's average meaning she knows more about Amy Winehouse's last collapse, Kirsten Dunst going to rehab or Britney's quarrels with her mom over her mom's "tell all" book. Brenda does not know that the dollar is worth 2.02 zl (and in many places in Poland it even went down to 1.97 zl.).
Brenda, like many others, lives in a world created for her by the media. How ridiculous has that world become? Several days ago, a major US news channel broadcasted pictures of Sarah Jessica Parker with and without her birthmark (if you don't know who she is, you must have heard about "Sex And the City", the show she was in). They called "it" (her birthmark, that is) … famous. I feel terrible as I did not know she had one, and I did not know it was famous. Darn it! I missed it again…I better start looking for others with birthmarks or… I will die not knowing!

Brenda breathes the media's propaganda with the air. She absorbs it, because in the US, there are no other alternatives. Whether she has a TV or shops at supermarkets, she's exposed. Even if she claims not to be bothered with some tampered news, she believes in other news. So do people have switches to the true information and another switch blocking the news created for us from the propagandist's list? You know, the way we block viruses in our computers? What makes her think that the time in other countries, while walls tumbled down, gas prices rocketed and wars were induced, stood still?

For $20 a month extra, I have access to Polish channels and an additional $2 buys me Euro news.

In it, Palestinians are humans and Jewish people are like every other people, no privileges there.
Poles can be young and intelligent and not necessarily old and conservative or "traditionally" nationalistic.
Although the Euro news too may slip up. In a segment about living in a world without cash but cards only, they showed a single mother in Great Britain who does all her business using plastic and already had several accounts. In contrast, there was this old farmer couple in Poland who lived without setting up a single account. What the commentator suggested was that in the future, the old couple has to have an account because they will not survive as all
transactions will be done through it. But I saw it differently. The girl in Britain, it was said, had great debt and one of the banks had helped her to set up a payment plan to get rid of it. That was the point the TV crew was making, banks helping dealing with debt, while the Polish couple lived debt free and I believe, I bet my pinky on it, that the table they invited the reporter to sit at, was in the kitchen that was in the house that was built on land that belonged to them. They owned it. It was theirs. Not the bank's. Not anybody else's.
I'll take the assets of that old couple over the payment book of that British girl any day.

Before I knew all that, my first days as an immigrant in America were preoccupied by the ambition to learn English as quickly as possible. That was why we did not move into a Polish community. I set up dictionaries in every room, and I searched for the right sentence in my collection of The Beatles songs that I memorized at 15 but did not understand the meaning. I realize now that those texts are now ready to use for me, courtesy of Lennon and McCartney.

That's right…the famous duo's lyrics came in handy. "Help" or "We Can Work It Out" has a different and more serious meaning now, just as much as "With a Little Help From Your Friends" and "Carry That Weight" became reality.

While I did everything in my power not to call myself "I'm a Loser."
After all these years, "I Should Have Known Better," but at the end "I Feel Fine."
I couldn't avoid little misunderstandings like arguing with my friend, Betty about having my door closed or locked up. Before I got my driver's license, she picked me up for a doctor's appointment and while halfway there, she asked if I had locked up the apartment door for which I replayed (having only some understanding of what she was asking me)… "I closed it." So she asked again, "But have you locked it?" Here I go again with "I closed it"… and what does she want from me?

I did not see the difference between those two, and Betty was not very good at helping me understand it.

Her asking me if I "zamknelam" the door was odd, because often people do close the door behind them when leaving, and only on rare occasions they leave the door wide open. In my mind, she did not ask if I had closed it with a key (zamknelam na klucz.)
We had similar arguments about shoes and cars. Betty's way was that sandals are not shoes but sandals, and a truck is not a car (which I always was so sure
of, darn it!), but a truck is a truck.

So when in Betty's presence, I said to my daughter to "put her shoes on" pointing to her sandals or flip-flops, Betty quickly corrected me. To me anything that you put on your feet in order to make walking a more pleasant experience are …shoes, and that's why we buy sandals or flip flops in the shoe department and not let's say, a hardware store. Over time, I have met people who still use "ice boxes" instead of a fridge.

I felt uncomfortable calling elderly people by their first name and kept silent when grandmas demanded from their grandkids to be called "nana "or nena."

I was disappointed as back in Poland I waited all my life to be called "Mrs." and here I come and at the very beginning, I become "Justina." Since the mothers of my children's friends introduced themselves as "Roses," "Lauries," or "Robins," I guess I should not argue for not being called "Mrs. Ball." Only later, I discovered that there are still some good traditional families like my Irish landlord, Tom C. and his lovely wife, Kathy whose children were taught to call us (tenants!) Mr. and Mrs., and I liked it. I remember my grandma in Poland meeting with her friend, Mrs. Sentkowska. They knew each other back from during the war times. My grandparents stayed in her house while building their own (in 1947), and during all those years they never called each other other than "Pani Halinko" or "Pani Halusiu" (although only one was Halina, and the other was Helena). Occasionally, they met for a tea and I, as a kid, loved that hierarchy and keeping old customs. They made the atmosphere elevated with respect.
Later in America, I was told that it is a Southern thing to call a person Miss
Daisy or Mrs. Jeanie. We are in New England so it does not apply. Betty was very "old school," officially introducing herself by her husband's first and last names although she demanded from her grandkids never to use the forbidden "g" word (grandma) and asked to be called "Bongie" instead. To someone coming from Poland, a woman who insists on being called "Pani Jan Kowalski" seems insane.

Polish immigrants still learning English may have a problem with the right pronunciation of words like "sheet" or "beach" and sometimes results in calling them the "sh" or "b" word. At first, the difference between "sheep" or "ship" or "living" and "leaving" was unnoticeable to us. Once we even asked my husband not to say "sheet" until he gets it right.

For the same reason, reporters on Polish TV, often call Halloween "Helloween" or disco music "deesco." The "South Beach diet" became "diet from the beaches of Southern seas" whatever that means only because whoever translated it was not familiar with South Beach in Miami. My article in a Polish magazine, "Twoj Styl" about a nudist colony in Woodstock, CT had a caption "The legendary Woodstock" only because the person editing my story did not know that there are many Woodstocks in the US. The legendary Woodstock is in New York, and there is nothing legendary about the one in Connecticut. But I guess you have to live here to know it.

To learn about one's culture, you need to sink into it.

Seeing middle-aged women dress up in sports team jerseys seemed infantile and does not make me want to wear one, but I learned to accept such sights. I simply reset my mind although my kids became an easy target for the media.

On our trip to San Francisco, I said "there are many gays around here" to which our daughter answered with "What's wrong with that? Are you against gays?" Jacek noticed that when only a couple of hours earlier, he said "There are many BMWs around here," she did not say, "What's wrong with BMWs? Are you against people driving them?"

Exploring American culture became an adventure. I learned how Americans live, eat, shop, how they raise their children, what has value, and what turns people off. I found out that just as we need to keep up with the Joneses, our children urge to keep up with the Joneses' kids. How do you explain to a child that buying a class ring for $200 is not a deal? Easy. "Are you out of your mind???" End of discussion.

Quickly, I learned what a "rip off" means, and it became a popular word in our vocabulary. I did not turn into a American mom, but remained a Polish mother. I potty trained my kids when they were 1.5, and I can train your dog, too. I did not put M&Ms in their peanut butter sandwiches. They did not have peanut butter sandwiches, and they ate horseradish and even raw herring at Christmastime.
I remained sober-minded, but in harmony with understanding and accepting other cultures.
So why am I still surprised that two American couples (actually one American and one Polish–American) who recently traveled to Poland wanted to see Auschwitz as the main attraction? The Polish-American couple stayed in Poland two weeks, The American couple opted for 9 days but returned … 4 days earlier. Something tells me it was their first trip outside the country so you have to be careful criticizing them as they are a very fragile species.

You know, a couple of years ago, my daughter's then boyfriend, who was Jewish, did not want to go to Auschwitz while visiting Krakow. He was smart enough to know that he was there for a short time so he wanted to have fun. Unless … this is what this group of American tourists sees as fun. If the crematoriums turn them on, it's scary. I think there is a name for it…
My bet is that none of them know anything about Poland's history and I'm not even sure if the American couple know what the capitol of Poland is. The father went on business, dragging his wife and daughter with him.
So I asked the Polish-American couple whose idea it was. It was Mark's idea. Celina has no opinion. I asked why. For historical and educational reasons was the answer. Weird, I thought.
Its like Poles coming to the US seeking to go to Gettysburg, skipping Times Square and Broadway in NYC, Boston and the historical trail, and every major city and its attractions. Weird.

With five young children in tow, the Polish-American couple traveled to Mragowo (Celina comes from a village in the area) known for country music festivals (and that's American country music!). From Mragowo, they drove down South to Auschwitz and Zakopane.

Slovakia was next, and back to Mragowo for the Polish wedding. I don't have to tell you how much fun they had there. But if you look at Poland's map, the very first town near Mragowo is Mikolajki, the capital of sailing and kayaking and a really lovely town. Did they go there? Sorry, car problem or something like that, you know with five kids it's not easy. So it came down to Zakopane, Aushwitz, Slovakia, and the Polish wedding.

After that, a great idea popped into my mind. How about creating (exclusively for American tourists,) trips called, "Auschwitz and Slovakia - Tours of Poland?"

And if you pay a little more, I will take you to a Polish wedding.

In conclusion, it all comes down to common sense.

But the more people are deprived of it by the ever present media that tells them what to think, and there is a substitute for culture (the true one fading away), the less they have it.

WHITE TRASH DON'T TRAVEL

click to enlarge

1969

WHITE TRASH DON'T TRAVEL (2008)

Driving on Route 9 through the Brookfields never seems the same. I notice something new every time, and this time, I noticed a brook. It was there for twenty something years, I believe, but I never knew it existed. It might have been because of the trees obstructing the view or, snow, or at other times, Jacek was driving, and I must have been reading or was simply too busy to take notice.
Others may not notice at all, pay no attention or just drive too fast.
And if I had to describe that brook to someone in Poland in the best way possible, I couldn't be sure that the image was translated exactly to the point.
And as you may already know, everything looks different if you look at it from another angle.
So does our Polish(ness) to those who… live in Poland. THEY dine on original Polish home grown food. WE have Millie's "pierogis" from the local supermarket. THEY are those who know their history and culture the best, WE are Poland's ambassadors. THEY can touch history each day by walking along the medieval walls, or hearing the same gothic bells, although WE have the advantage of seeing it from a different perspective. That's a plus - I'm still sure of it.
Last week, I had an "exchange of words" with T.,a fellow who got angry with me, because to him, I represented … that dreadful Europe. It happened to me several times before, but with different people, yet the same "accusations." I thought it was strange, because the American press rarely includes Poland on their maps, or in Europe's related articles (It does, however, miraculously appear on their radar when the subject of the Holocaust
pops up.). Here is this guy, who blames me for all the evil that supposedly happened to the US because of Europe (?) and I have the audacity to feel no shame or respect to the great American nation, or so I was told.
That Europe - where they hate us. The cradle of all wars.
Yet it was Europe that awarded Martin Luther King Jr. the Nobel Prize in 1964, before he was... assassinated in his homeland in 1968.
It was 1989 when Poland defeated Communism and opened the Central and Eastern European markets to the US. However in 2008, the US still demands visas from Poles.
60 years after WWII and 20 years after the fall of Communism, and the US presence in Western Europe has less to do with Europe's security and more with the US military industry and its lobby.
The Cold War ended – however, we just need to convince the future Central and Eastern European clients that the threat from Iran and North Korea is real, and that they need to install OUR anti-missile shields. As soon as we can convince them, we are back in business. So, that evil Europe - ain't that bad after all...
According to T. his opinion on collective farms, Poland's economy or history is the "right one." His knowledge is accurate since he was brought up in a free country, and I was not. With a few history related questions, I checked that "knowledge" and found it undoubtedly lacking understanding of the true situation in pre, during, and post war Poland. Some of the world's events like Yalta skipped his memory to make a room for revelations such as the US freeing millions of Poles from Nazi terror. "You Europeans should thank us for it." It seemed that his problem was more with the French, but since there were no French persons anywhere nearby, I somehow represented the old evil.
Whatever happens between you and the French stays between you and French. I can speak for Polish people, and I reminded him that Poland did not benefit from the Marshall Plan and what he called "liberation," to millions of Poles was just the beginning of another chapter in Poland's long fight for independence.
This guy repeated the same old stereotypes that I heard many times before. I could ignore it again … and again, but if I have to be part of this great nation, I should have the right to speak up. And he should realize that war may be a different experience to different people.
There are times when Poland, according to some, is this backwards agricultural country. On other occasions, as needed, when talk stirs to the subject of pollution, it is suddenly heavily industrialized. Either way it is negative, so I can never figure out which one it is.
Quite often, pointing out Polish Catholicism sounds more like an accusation. However, it does not bother the accusers, at the same time to call Poland … Communist and hoping that the average reader won't know the difference.
It's bad - we got that point.
What is certain is that Poland is full of contradictions. So trying to stereotype it should be a very difficult task unless … your intentions aren't sincere.
Once I was approached by another "know it all," a local "pain in the rear end" guy, Lindsey S. He asked me why Polish people never organize and never fight, and he meant during wartime. I began to choke, so I needed to take a deep breath. I then started telling him about Poland being partitioned for 125 years but fighting vigorously, regaining independence for only a short period of time, before being simultaneously attacked from the West and from the East. The explanation became too confusing to him, because I entered some forbidden territory - the taboos that he was not familiar with. I guess he expected me to fit all that into a "one sentence" answer, so I just rolled my eyes and let him go back to his hot dog and beans.
The idea of Hitler invading Poland, because he wanted to kill all Jews seems so much more logical and easier to digest.

When talking to my American girlfriends, I have to be careful what I say because they often misunderstand. When asked about my (Polish) husband's habits, some look for any hint of Tennessee Williams' "Stan Kowalski" to justify the stereotype. No, his mother did not spoil him, nor does he drink, or have an aggressive side. Once I mentioned that my cousin was pregnant, and the quick response was: "You Catholics have so many children." No, it was her first pregnancy and average Polish couple has 1 child. When I mention that black Americans are amongst the players in Poland's basketball league, someone said "they cannot be any good then."
Americans like to call themselves the champions of the world although they never compete with anybody else but … themselves. I try to imagine an Italian or Norwegian team, any team, calling itself the best in Europe without playing against any other European teams.
I bet we also cause some confusion by not being extremely fat or hopelessly stupid. We do eat kapusniak and pierogi, but that's not all we eat. On holidays, when we stack up on Polish food, my daughter snacks on mushrooms or pickles in brine as if there was no tomorrow and my son overdoses on horseradish at times. But besides that, we are very open to other types of cuisine… just like other Poles are.
At Christmastime, my friend Carol, tries to please me by saying: "We are going to have kapusta and pierogi." Then she says the same thing at Easter. Carol, Easter requires a different menu…oh well…
Can you get me some kielbasa? Which one? Oh - so there is more than one??
Those stereotypes may be the reason why young Polish Americans are sometimes drawn away from "Polish culture" as we know it. What seemed appealing back then, to our parents or grandparents does not appear so attractive to 20 or 30 year olds. We must start thinking about other links that bind us together. And if you think that polka festivals will be that bond, connecting us with the younger generations of Polish Americans, you are wrong.
It does not even tie us with other Polonias around the world. It is an exclusively Polish-American tradition. And it has nothing to do with Poland either.
I can just hear my opponents grinding their teeth. Bury this newspaper in a jar in your backyard, and see for yourself in 20 years.
So start reinventing yourself to the newer generation of Polish Americans. Find the connection. For the Jews, it is the Holocaust. For us, it could be history in general with the Polish Holocaust being part of it.
Our children and grandchildren somehow have to find a way to the country of their ancestors and discover Poland on their own. Your job is to encourage them to take that trip and maybe even study there. Learn the true culture from the experts, and touch the history... They can shed their discomfort of discrimination while having the experience of their life.
That 420,000 Poles living in the UK already look at things differently, and when they return, they may bring back not just money, but their experiences and another perspective.
Our son, Francis, a student in Warsaw now, one day while riding a taxi, exchanged some opinions with the taxi driver. And he suddenly realized that this man shared our views on Poland's economy, US politics, media etc. The reason? He lived in Germany for a while.
The longer I live, the more I come to the conclusion that, despite our different origins and paths that lead us to this point, all people are the same. I found many many friends here, intelligent, who, even if not quite knowledgeable about the Polish "side of the story," at least allow themselves to listen to unknown facts about the war times. And then there are others whose idea about the rest of the world is minimized to a few stereotypes. Those are the ones who have an answer for everything. TV stations, press prepared them with all the "right" answers. They knew why you were going to say it even before you said it.

You become what the media has already prepared for you: labeled, and you are expected to follow it or at least don’t do anything radical to shake it. On your arrival, you are boxed. So what, that the times changed everywhere else, here it all stays the same. We never noticed that this 20s dance polka has (in Poland) past long time ago, and made a way to foxtrot, tango, cha-cha and so on. For many Americans, it is WE who move ahead while the rest of the world stands still.
It is true that some of us do not represent Poland well, with required respect. We have scum among us, oh yes, we do! but we are not any different from other ethnic groups. Poles in Poland blame Polonia for a bad image overseas, and we intend to blame the government abroad.
Quite the contrary, for obvious reasons, the American abroad was often a tourist and not an immigrant worker. Until now, Europeans encountered only those Americans who had money. In 1985-86, when the dollar value was the highest, and our family lived in Germany, we witnessed how many Americans were buying and shipping German luxury goods to the US. And when Europeans travel to US, they never wander off to the areas where poor Americans live.
Just as American media does not show how the rich in Mexico, Puerto Rico or Poland live. Forget rich Poles, as we never even see... average Poles.
It may all change with the dollar losing its value with such speed: $1.57 for Euro,
$1 is worth 2.19 Polish zloty. Those of us who travel already know it.
I do not think T. understands it. He rarely leaves his house.
Since Poles, on almost every level, are so used to migrating, what others see is the whole range of characters including the poorest, the noble and the scoundrel. The Polish poor seek a change, because they know there is a better life awaiting them somewhere. They may come to change their mind later on but at least they tried. Our, American, homegrown poor may migrate only from state to state. As a little boy, our son asked, "Why do we say, God bless America? Why not other countries?" It occurred to him only because he had already traveled outside the US. Other kids probably did not, and such a question never came to their mind.
"God made me special," says a quote above the bed of one of the kids that I know.
Again, why me? What about everybody else?
The longer I live here, the more I'm sure that people here or there are the same.
The only difference is that Americans are told over and over about the greatness of their nation. They won't see their weaknesses or faults, and even if they are miserable in their trailer parks, they won't seek a better life anywhere else. See, Poland's so called "white trash" does not sit still: they travel, and ours does not.
Where to? This is heaven on Earth after all.

COPA MUNDIAL

click to enlarge schnitzel

COPA MUNDIAL (June 2006)

This could not be the shirt that I ordered!

J. Crew is way over our budget but when there is a sale, $24 for a nice tailored shirt isn’t bad. The two polos packed flat looked ok. But out of the other package an uneven ball rolled out. Sensing sabotage on the part of someone who hides behind “inspected by #13,” I unwrapped it and a pink men’s shirt popped out, …all wrinkled! Inside of the rolled up shirt was a note: “Crumpled by design especially for you!” Listen, everyone, wrinkled shirts are officially “in” this season!

Who has time for ironing anyway when the Mundial is on! World Cup 2006, in case you missed it. While millions of Americans were preoccupied with guessing who the next American Idol would be, the world prepared for the Soccer Championships. My two homegrown fans tried to get the tickets for Poland’s games, with no luck, then… any games, accomplished nothing there, oh well …went anyway.

Wearing stylishly wrinkled shirts, father and son, within days of arriving in Warsaw, took a ride to Berlin on the express train added especially for a German- Polish Friendship Month.
Obviously it was not the same Berlin that my husband Jacek left 21 years ago to move to Zell on the banks of the Mosel River, a little town in the middle of “weinberg country” to await our (mine and our little daughter’s) arrival.

The “new” Berlin welcomed them with only three days old Hauptbanhof train station, Daimler Chrysler City complex of modern office buildings, Sony Center resembling a circus tent made all of glass, housing the Museum of Film, TV studios and an I-MAX theatre.

The Wall long dismantled, and the only trabant they spotted (a car formerly manufactured in East Germany), was actually on the Western side of the city.
They came upon some remnants of the infamous wall here and there and a memorial of white crosses to those who lost their lives trying to escape Communism. Strangely, the last person shot for crossing (may even be the last victim of the Cold War, who knows?) was killed only months before the Wall fell. If he would have only waited, he could have just walked over and celebrated with a bottle of champagne in one hand and sledgehammer in the other.

The modest but clean and comfortable hostel, booked ahead of time, was conveniently

located in the heart of East Berlin. Now a busy section full of shops, galleries and restaurants. Jacek and Francis, budget travelers, explored the Western part but dined on “Schnitzel und Kartoffeln fur zwei Personen” in Eastern Berlin in less divine style but still pleasantly common.
On budget, yet how different from the times when Jacek just like many others used to give blood to survive. Poles donating blood to Germans? That’s right. How humanly, un-selfish, yet very logical and typical of Polish immigrants… short on cash.

Years later in the US, we remembered that, when after 9/11 our daughter wanted to donate blood but was told that she can’t because she traveled to Central or Eastern Europe within the last 6 months. Huh? Then maybe we should consider removal of our names from the donor list, if the blood is not good, then what is the use of bad organs?

These days, the crowd in Berlin was the most diverse. As soccer fans from around the world began to arrive the prices went up, and so did the street noise. And not just in
Berlin, as the fans followed their teams to Dortmund, Nuremberg, Hanover, Gelsenkirchen…the colorful procession went with it. It only happens every four years! And even I got into the global mood. As the guys were watching it over there (Francis wore Ebi Smolarek’s jersey, that he bought in Berlin, during every game for good luck) Francis’ girlfriend watched it over here and e-mailed me every two minutes with comments such as “Mrs. Ball who should I cheer for?” after all the countries she has ties with were kicked out from their groups. Shiva is Persian (all three Iran, Poland and the US were eliminated). I told her that in that case root for the underdog or … the cute guys. So she and her roommate checked every guy on every team. I have FIFA World Cup in my “favorites” and gave them some pointers. I ranked Argentina’s number 9, Crespo, as my favorite while Shiva stuck to Polish goalkeeper Artur Boruc claiming that Boruc and my son are the cutest. But she cannot be an objective judge and neither can I.

The most nerve-wracking was the Poland versus Germany match. Although, sometimes you had the feeling that it was Poland vs. Poland when Miroslaw Klose and Lukasz Podolski (top goal scoring duo for the German team) were aiming at our net. Both have Polish girlfriends, and I mean real Polish girlfriends who cook real Polish food.
What’s a better advertisement for Poland than this?

Soccer indeed, is the international language, as my son realized while staying in hostels from Miami to Montreal. No matter where you go and whom you stay with, speaking soccer breaks all the barriers.

I like the idea that the whole world is involved in the game and that some small country like Tunisia or Trinidad and Tobago has a chance to beat Spain or Ukraine. When the United States’ team sweats not to give out to the Czech Republic, and when Ghana may beat Italy and Poland falls to Ecuador! It was at that game that the Polish team terribly disappointed 45 thousand cheering fans (not counting millions in front of TVs) while the stadium turned totally white and red. The Poles played a lousy game, but if they had tried harder and actually won, the charged fans and the chanting and beating of drums could easily have caused a small earthquake. They had a good chance, but as always, never used it. As they did not trust themselves that they could beat the Germans.
But the Polish team lost this World Cup even before they left Poland, by not selecting Frankowski, the one player who actually scores and the one who allowed them to qualify. Another reason may be the fact that coach Janas is a former defensive player so the Poles in the match against the Germans showed good defense, but they played to tie and not to win, a serious error in sports.
This idea came from Poland’s ex coach Piechniczek. A self-proclaimed expert, who during press conferences claimed that Poland could never beat the Germans. And such a person sits side by side with Poland’s present coach and poisons players with stupid ideas, as if the tie would have made a difference.

It was as if there was an invisible fence preventing them from attacking. The only player that actually scored (and he scored twice!) in the last game with Costa Rica (Poles do well playing for honor) was a …defender. Where was Poland’s offense?

Days before the Mundial, comments about Janas’ selections were “is he mad?” now they turned to “fire Janas.” One person on a people’s forum compared Janas’ communication skills to … a refrigerator “it hums something but nobody knows what.”
Yes, it was officially said in some German tabloids that Poland had bad players but the best fans. In that category Poles did wunderbar.
Smolarek’s good luck charm did not help but Francis came home with a great jersey.

Besides being fun to watch, it is the number one game in the whole world. It is soccer that brings power in you to scream at the top of your lungs and show sometimes the ugliest war colors, to… only within days, become a fan of the team that you played against! If your team is still in the game in the early group stages, its loss does not necessarily mean that they do not advance. Sometimes your luck acts in the strangest way. It depends on how other teams in your group score.

This is the place where after the game, teams exchange jerseys, where white players exchange jerseys with players from Africa. So do fans, with the few Polish fans especially maneuvering among the crowd to exchange their jerseys exclusively with good-looking Costa Rican female fans. How typically Polish! Where continents meet and where rich and poor countries are equal. Even more, the place where fans may wear both playing teams’ colors. It wasn’t unusual to see fans wearing Poland and Ecuador colors together. Where after every game, no matter what the score was, both fans partied, as they were friends forever. I watched it on my TV screen, and I loved every minute of it. My son’s girlfriend was probably the only person cheering for Poland at the Goethe Institute in Boston; she survived and proved to be a great Polish fan. Shiva knew all the showing times and channels, games spread out from ABC to Tele-Mundo only. That’s when Shiva’s Spanish (that she studied at school) came handy. When Iran was eliminated, Poland was out as well and the USA did not have good chances either. But we kept watching…

Oh my! And the day came when I sat completely confused whom to cheer for. Germany’s two Polish players or Argentina’s coach, possibly a foreigner, someone who is not connected in any way to the inside circle of officials in the Polish soccer federation and who will play a player for what he represents. Many expected even more from the

coach, possibly a foreigner, someone who is not connected in any way to the inside circle of officials in the Polish soccer federation and who will play a player for what he represents. Many expected even more from the German team, but they still won and it counts. Flying Juergen Klinsman from California to coach the team, several times a month, is paying off now.

It’s getting hotter now, not just the weather, but the emotions are rising as well. Germany beat Argentina in penalty kicks, ouch! With Crespo out and (I can cheer for Lukas Podolski!) Italy beating Ukraine, who will become the champions? The Germans have to face the Italians, and Portugal will play against France. The shocking news that the last World Cup Champion Brazil was beat by France got a little note in the Worcester Telegram & Gazette’s sport section, on page …9. France is not the favorite country for many editors in any paper in the US so why inform the public about their accomplishments. From now on it will surely be the world’s best soccer.
And when there are only two teams left, everything freezes and one can only hope there are no power shortages.

I have to watch those games, how would I know about the Adidas commercial, the one where two Latino boys are picking teams. Each calls names of famous and some legendary players, and they all show up one after another Platini, Beckenbauer, Kahn, Beckham, Zidane, …
They play a game in this obscure courtyard where others are fixing a car and go on with their daily business. The ball bounces, at some point hits the hood of the car being repaired, and next one team scores. Little Jose and his friend are obviously the captains of their teams, and the legendary players… just play along. Suddenly this untidy woman appears on the balcony and yells in anger:
“Jose!”
The game stops, both the captains and all the legendary players look up,
“Que?” answers the boy squinting his eyes,
“A casa!”
And in soccer, just like in the Adidas commercial “Nothing is impossible.”

OVERSPENDERS.COM

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OVERSPENDERS.COM (may 2008)

I hate walk-in closets. I think they are ridiculous. The idea of having a separate room for your wardrobe seems odd to me. Yes, you may say, but what do you do with all those clothes as they need to be organized. Sure, but in my eyes, if you get to a point when you're asking that question, it probably means that you have too many clothes already so get rid of some of them!

My (old, by all means) friend, when designing her house (her retirement home to be exact) made sure that she was fulfilling her lifelong dream of having her own walk in closet. Her husband got just a regular one, although he did not live long after that…hmm. She couldn't care less what shape her new kitchen was or the size of the living room, or what side of the world the deck was facing. What preoccupied her mind was a room to worship her clothes in with shoe racks for her shoe collection. How big was it? You could probably fit 50 illegal immigrants into it although they would all be in a pretzel position. And some go to the extreme… To have another closet, besides the one that you already keep your clothes in, just for shoes and shoes only, you really should have your head examined.

We condemn Imelda Marcos (ex-first lady of Philippines) for her weakness for shoes, but some of us women would love to copy her and others like her, why?
Is it because women watch TV sitcoms and are getting those silly ideas like ...excess of shoes will make you happy?

It's one thing to stagger by such behavior and another thing to applaud it.

I don't care much for the New Yorker but I do like their cartoons. I check them weekly, and there was one by Mick Stevens called "Consumer Alert." A couple is watching TV and on their giant screen it reads "Attention: The Wilsons next door just bought a much bigger TV than this one."
That's us, Americanos.
I'd like to announce that I'm proud of the fact that we still have the same TV that we bought 21 years ago. It's a Hitachi from Manny's in Wilbraham, Mass. Manny is deceased now but the TV is still going. Why would I buy a plasma TV or anything else like it, if this one is still working and its in good condition? My friends claim that plasmas take up less space, but the old ones still clutter their space - just a different space in the house.
Some goods we collect to keep up with the rest with the notion of paying for things that we do not really need being secondary.

Frugal Harry? Someone that I know traveled to both Italy and Poland. From Italy, he brought a rather kitschy painting done in some special technique, a piece of luxury that cost him $3,000. A souvenir from Poland (this trip took place several years later) was rather modest looking - a tiny wooden cottage that said ZAKOPANE on its roof. There was no story behind it like purchasing it from a poor Polish child begging on the street. Nope, it was just a cheap souvenir. There are wonderful artsy products in Polish galleries, silver jewelry (with or without amber), crystal glass, linen, embroidery, hand painted silk scarves, paintings of the Polish landscape in a variety sizes and prices, even armor, nicely covered photo books in English…items that beautifully represent Poland. But what seems to be the case is that the trip to Italy seemed to be attractive enough to spend an extra few thousand and brag about it while the trip to Poland, a business trip, I found out, was less attractive, is not, in some minds, worthy of spending more than several dollars on souvenirs. Somewhere between the lines, someone had to decide which trip is worth what.

At the gas station, some guy in one of those oversized trucks occupied pump #1 for a good 10 min. At first I was upset, but then I saw that his total was $167, so now I felt sorry for him. The guy is an addict - a petrol junkie. Petroleum addiction is a terrible thing, but as most addictions, it can be cured. You think the gas prices are too high? I don't. I think we were using too much of it anyways with some of us wasting gas because we thought it was cheap. We drove bigger cars than our neighbors, and we drove across the street to get a gallon of milk. Our youth drove cars to the mall just to window-shop and hang around. We did not carpool when it was the logical thing to do. Carpooling was so un-cool as that's what they do in those socialist countries…yuck. The gas was cheap, and we drove in style.
I know people who clipped coupons, shopped at Victorys'(a local supermarket) then drove 15 miles each way to Big Bunny (another supermarket) to save on meat products. Why? Because in their mind, the price of gas was cheaper than the price difference between meat products minus coupon.

We became addicted to gasoline and now we are trapped, and the oil companies like good dope dealers, or rather dope associates who don't give a damn as long they get people hooked.

When talking about overusing, it is hard not to mention drinking. Excessive drinking sometimes may have reasonable exploitation:
According to Ryszard Kapuscinski (famous Polish journalist and author), "In the Soviet Union, vodka had its own moral code. You had to show up at friend's house with a bottle. And once the bottle was opened, you had to finish it. And then, one drank to prove one wasn't a KGB agent."
("The Paris Review")

As a result, the headstrong KGB agents become presidents, and the life expectancy among Russian men is 59. The cause? Heart disease, alcohol poisoning and liver failure.
Moreover, either spending or drinking requires common sense and moderation.

We, the customers as simple folks are not the only ones overspending. Our government leads the way with much more moolah (our moolah!) on hand.

With taxpayers' money, Bush & Cheney's comrades built Fortress America for 700 million dollars (and still counting…), which is a massive bunker the size of the Vatican.

The US Embassy on Tigris River is the largest in the world with egos to match.
Where else did the money go?

We should know that bribing Iraqi police is not a good investment as they will always come for more. And we blame THEM for not doing enough… and the circle goes around so we're still there…
Once in a while, the army puts some representative of Iraqi police in front of the camera, who swears that there is great success but they are not ready yet to take full control so the US army should definitely hang around some more. Translation: Bring more US dollars. ASAP.

Where is the limit?
When do we say stop? Don't numbers mean anything to us?
How many more soldiers have to die before Americans understand that this war is wrong and should never have happened?

As we "entered" (or should I say, attacked, bombed and occupied) Iraq, we took off a guy that held all three groups (Sunnis, Shite, Kurds) together by an iron fist. The guy had nothing to do with 9/11. We come and we kill him after declaring him a number one dictator in the world, and we fight with the Sunnis, his supporters, relieving the Shiites, a religious group. The democratic elections that were supposed to fix all the problems and bring our troops home brought the Shites to power against the Sunnis. How does it relate to us? First, we had US soldiers fighting against both the Shites and the Sunnis, no Al Qaeda in sight.
Two years later, in 2005, the American soldiers were on one side with the Shites, and the Sunnis and now, the Al Qaeda are on the opposite side. In 2008 you have Sunnis and Shites on one side and Shites and Al Qaeda on the other with American soldeirs looking down in confusion. There is no progress, its just people moving around fighting amongst themselves. Now, five years have passed and we, the superpower, are still fighting Al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Iraq.
I put accent on "still fighting."
How is our presence in Iraq helping? Either we are there or not, and at this point everybody is fighting with everybody. The only people that benefit are those who make money on this war, and of course, they will fight to keep the business going, These are the lobbyists for military industry or companies that supply our troops with food or sunscreen.
That week when the media was preoccupied with the Jeremiah Wright comments, 49 US soldiers died. Did it make the news?
Although, there was some link between the pastor and war, Rev Wright was in Vietnam and Dick Cheney or George Bush did not.
I say stop the money flow, and the war will stop.

Whatever happened to the concept of saving?
The spending makes sense only if we can save more than we can spend. Our priorities got mixed up. Are we trying to outspend China? Fine, but they have money, we are borrowing ours lately.
China's economy is growing and growing, and so are their savings. To the Chinese government , our anti-China demonstrations seem like a mosquito bite, annoying but eventually will go away.

Thanks to the record high oil prices, our longtime adversary Russia is also gaining. It is one of the largest exporters of oil. We are talking about a country that was a bankrupt by a combination of war expenses and cheap oil. Russia's main source of revenue. As much as we love to believe so, it wasn't Pres Regan, Margaret Thatcher or even the Pope that defeated great Soviet Union, but the cheap oil prices and war in Afghanistan.
Now Russia has a trade surplus, which means that it's gaining back its power while in the US, we are deeper and deeper in debt that will have to be paid for by our children and grandchildren. Something to think about...

In a cartoon by Lee Lorentz, a weeping bank teller says to a customer who is making a deposit, "God Bless you, sir."
Do you think its funny?

PIT BULL WITH LIPSTICK SMEARED ON

PIT BULL WITH LIPSTICK SMEARED ON by Justyna Ball (2008)

My cousins in Poland have asked me if I went to go see "Mamma Mia" yet. No, I haven't, and I don't intend to. It's not the music, which I actually love - I even named my dog ABBA. It's the image of Pierce Brosnan singing "S.O.S." that turns me off. And the whole script idea with the girl who plays Meryl Streep's daughter being on a mission chasing down three men. All three had entered her mother's life at same point. One lingered around a little longer and gave her a little more than just a second look, he gave her a daughter. And now that daughter wants to know who her dad is … dah.
I don't know about you, but I spent the last week watching the Democratic Convention and this week, the GOP's.
I was very pleased with remarks by both Sen. Obama and his wife Michelle, "Uncle Teddy's" as well as Joe Biden's. I was pleasantly surprised by both Clintons' speeches. Since the beginning of the election, I was never a Clinton fan, and to tell you the truth I expected something rather dry and nothing beyond the standard talk by an ex- president – just something for the sake of keeping the Democratic Party together.
I was moved. The Clintons pulled off quite impressive (No Way, No How, No McCain) speeches and pledged 100% support for Sen. Obama. Obama's long emancipated presentation (for 84 000 at the stadium and 38 millions at home) did not disappoint either. Our being fed up with Bush's politics was clearly spelled out...ENOUGH! And along with the other speakers, as the convention's agenda obliged, the plan for the next several years was put out, a connection between Exxon John and Bush established, Michelle re-introduced and the party stayed united. A job well done.
And then came the GOP convention, which took over all the attention and the Republican Party introduced the unknown (even to McCain!) governor, a mother of 5, their Alaskan "pit bull," Sarah Palin with her lipstick freshly applied. She entered the stage, the hockey mom, and began "checking" from the start.
Somehow all the arguments previously used against Sen. Obama, now attributed to Gov. Palin are actually her … assets. How's that for hypocrisy?
Her being inexperienced? Are you kidding? The official statement is that she is a fresh face and a reformer.
(Well, Mrs. Palin was educated in journalism and Barack Obama in ...constitutional law wich means he knows US constitution inside out.)
The Super Mom is hard not to notice as her Alaskan brood follows her around everywhere. Of course, she can handle it all - she can juggle her VP career, five kids (one with special needs), her Blackberry and even throw a baby shower for her pregnant teenage daughter…all at the same time. But I can't get this out of my mind: Why, why would McCain do this to her?
My impression on Day 1 was that he put her out there without thinking about the responsibilities that the VP position demands. I believe that Sen. McCain should ask his running mates and work on stronger case for one of them rather that put such a bargain on this poor woman who has a lot to handle now. Maybe Track, Bristol, Willow and Piper need no constant supervision… but wait at least until Trig goes to kindergarten.
I saw a woman who jumped at the opportunity (who wouldn't in her position?) but did not think through it.
For some reason, to many Republicans, she appears as someone well prepared or (second option) someone who can learn … along the way.
Let's just pray that the learning process ends before McCain (if elected, he would be the oldest president in first term) passes, as she would be next in line to run the country! Oh well, she can always send her husband Todd – the snow machine racer, dog sled pusher, and caribou hunter after Ahmadinajad. Todd can also play the role of the First House-Husband in the White House flipping moose burgers for the visitors on the big lawn while "Miss Congeniality" holds some executive meetings.
Since when does being a mother of a pregnant teenage daughter prepare you to run the country? Oh I get it, Bush has twins so he deserved a second term.
The attention given by the media to that fact of teenage pregnancy was upsetting Gov. Palin the day before her speech, but it somehow did not bother Palin to expose her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend at the convention where in a flash of tens of cameras, she held her five month old brother, Trig (is Trig short for Trigger? I know the mother loves guns…).
Actually, everybody had a turn to hold the baby, Cindy McCain did too…
Probably to hide it from the cameras.
The lowest point of the convention was when the Republican speakers laughed at the community organizers. That was an attack on ordinary people in urban areas who deserve better lives and want to do something about their situation. And I hope that people in those poverty-stricken communities were watching and came to the right conclusions. The lowest point for Gov. Palin was to address hockey moms and mothers of children with special needs. Then I realized why that poor five month old with Down syndrome was there the whole time.
And that's when I stopped feeling sorry for her as that woman is an opportunist.
Moments later, she accused Sen. Obama of using "change" to promote his career.
The best strategy to cover up your own "aspirations" is to point them out in the opponent.
I watched Fred Thompson, "Democrat " Joe Lieberman , Mitt Romney and Rudy Giuliani speak. Giuliani accused Obama of flip-flopping, as a day after the nomination, the Senator from Illinois favored an undivided Jerusalem ("Like I do and Sen. McCain does," Giuliani said) and he later changed his mind!
I won't comment.
We heard the Sen. McCain war story over and over and how his being shot down somehow predestines him for the president's office.
The speakers stated what the gum-chewing and triple-chinned crowd fanning themselves occasionally, wanted to hear which was that the country is fine, the economy is fine, Washington is all liberal, and Iraq is a success. All they needed was Miss Alaska to tell them, "Drill baby drill" (referring to the drilling of oil reserves, which Gov. Palin promotes). Did I mention that she also wanted to ban some books from her local library? Ok, let her ban books, but polar bears are off limits. She wanted them off the threatened species list because she does not believe in global warming.
Not all Republicans are so blindfolded.
Susan Eisenhower, Dwight's granddaughter, one of the speakers at the Democratic Convention, also an expert on international security, explained that "Deep in America's heart, I believe, is the nagging fear that our best years as a nation may be over. We are disliked overseas and feel insecure at home. We watch as our federal budget hemorrhages red ink and our civil liberties are eroded. Crises in energy, health care and education threaten our way of life and our ability to compete internationally. There are also the issues of a costly, unpopular war; a long-neglected infrastructure; and an aging and increasingly needy population. " And she believes that Sen. Obama and not Sen. McCain is the right man who understands those needs and will lead the country back on the right track.
How can you try to fix something (like the economy) if you don't believe it's broken? The stubborn position on Iraq only costs us more lives, for what? For Bush's "mistake." Do you ever think about the lives of Iraqis? Laura Bush in her speech stated that because of her husband, 50 million people in Iraq and Afghanistan have freedom. Are you kidding me? Where is Osama? I mean, c'mon…we send robots to Mars and we can't find a guy who is running around with a walkie-talkie wearing Converse sneakers? And if he does not live in a cave in a country the size of Texas, and I believe he does not, but comfortably somewhere in, let's say Pakistan, what does it say about us, our intelligence and our ability to capture terrorists? Unless we are not really trying, and we just pretend that we are to keep this war going and the public satisfied.
In Laura's footsteps, tiptoes Cindy, portrayed as a Republican Mother Teresa who was beautified alive for bringing a little girl from Bangladesh 17 years ago.
And that was probably the only diversity at GOP's convention.
Cindy is so good at providing medical assistance to orphans overseas, but why not our own backyard?
It is odd, since in Massachusetts alone, we have 2,400 children eligible for adoption.
Not cool enough? You say they are crack babies? Why not pick one? Or we should rather sweep the problem of poverty under the rug? Cindy shone in the flash of cameras, but I would love to see a politician's wife setting an example by adopting one of our own American unprivileged ones.
Once I had an argument with a waitress who claimed that American orphans have a much better life that those in Bangladesh. Please tell that to our orphan children the next time you see them if you see them. I guess they don't realize how lucky they are.
Or at least allow people from other countries, like let's say, rich Somalis, to adopt them.
Cindy's half sister, Jim Hensley's other daughter, Kathleen Portalski, wife of Stanley (son Nicholas is a firefighter) cheers for Obama. But that may be, because she was left penniless by her wealthy father.
I don't think Cindy has a political view. As much as John needed her fortune, she needed him for celebrity status. A good politician needs a wife, a socialite and if she is a NASCAR fan and the heir to a beer fortune, it's even better.
But that pit bull, Sarah may cry "victimhood" (that's where the lipstick comment comes handy, Sarah wants you to remember that although she is tough she is still a woman!) if Joe Biden presses too hard during the debate. So should we either see her as a woman or we go beyond the gender factor? And we'll wrestle like equals?
She may not be impressed with Sen. Obama's resume, but at some point in her life she too found Hawaii attractive. Back when she enrolled at Hawaii Pacific College in Honolulu as one of the five colleges she attended in six years.
At the end, no matter how you see her: "As a restless reformer" as Joe Lieberman does, a hockey mom, an anti-abortion advocate, pro-war, for drilling, she is a pawn in McBush's politics.
Make people fear and later tell them that you are the only one who can keep them safe. Safe from the Axis of Evil, Islamic radicals, and most importantly… safe from liberals. The message remains the same, but this time it's delivered by woman.
Sarah Palin, underneath all the Maybelline lipstick and waterproof mascara is just more of the same.
And those hockey moms better take their helmets and cages off to see clearer, before they say, "Mamma Mia! What have we done?"

THIS CHRISTMAS ASK FOR LESS

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THIS CHRISTMAS ASK FOR LESS…(2004?)

The other day, two casual dressed women walked into the coffee shop where I was sipping my morning dose. It was early and they caught my attention as looking very tired already. Hmm, whatever they were doing at night, it wasn’t making them look attractive. Soon they reveled the reason “We just came back from shopping!” one said to Brenda, the waitress, and the other one quickly added, “We were at Wal-Mart, all night!”

And then they went on and on about the aisles full of items, all at great unbeatable prices, all “must haves”, and crazy customers maneuvering among them. Ladies seemed to act as if they took pride in such a task making me feel as if I was some kind of loser, you know, shopping the old fashion way during regular stores hours, if at all.
It’s a “Pet pictures with Santa” season and nothing shocks anymore. Even my husband’s co-worker Trish, strongheaded mother of two almost fell into it. She and her husband Phil went at 6am to purchase portable dvd at great price but the sight of a line of some 200 plus potential buyers made them think twice so they turned around.

I MISS THE TIMES from my childhood when simplicity was the theme all through the year and Christmas, although more festive than any other holiday, was still about baby Jesus and our big family getting together.

I remember how one winter I was learning to crochet and I pretty much crocheted everything around me. There was no Guinness Book of record yet; but if there was, I would probably made it for making the longest chain out of blue yarn. It was when my babcia got this multicolored cosmetic case from me for Christmas. See, the idea was to pay as little as possible since nobody seemed to be loaded with money, and for the children it was required to present their loved ones with homemade gifts. At school you learned how to make a birdfeeder or an apron. Those priceless gifts, who would want anything else ?

Well, the exemption was my mom, who would sneak to the store “drogeria”(cosmetics and perfume shop) and purchased a “puderniczka”(loose powder case) exactly the one she wanted. Later when nobody looked, she would wrap it and act surprised when opened it on Christmas Eve.

In 1975, my grandmother gave me a copy of “Anne of Green Gables” by L. M. Montgomery, which I still have, here with me. It says “Mojej kochanej Isi na Gwiazdke – BABA”. Miraculously this book is one of few that survived intact my daughter’s experiencing with crayons when she at age two discovered her drawing talent. Thank God she lost interest later on.

Back then, there were few gifts but plenty of love and the atmosphere was sublime.

It was a time when decorating the tree or trip to the local carp pond run by PGR (state operated farm) was on our minds, NOT shopping.

As the oldest (and most careful!) I was allowed to play with nativity figures, all chipped but still recognizable. We brought multicolored paper chains that we made at school.

Prior Wigilia, kids were excused from fasting

The large table in “stolowy” (dinning) room, had a huge carriage wheel above decorated with colorful embroired sashes and was reserved for grownups; we, kids had a primer seat by a round table in a “hall” by the fireplace where the walls were decorated with antlers.
The setting itself was splendid , the tree set in the corner of “pianinowy” (piano) room, in the opposite site of the house that opened to “stolowy” which opened to “hall”.

In such scenery each Christmas was played. The kitchen was off that path and I do not recall much of what’s was going on in there since we kids were kept away by watching the sky for the first star, the Bethlehem Star that was.

And after the oplatek ceremony, on a whitest tablecloth, carp was served along with potatoes, herring and red barszcz with uszka, cabbage and mushroom pierogi toasted by plum or sour cherry compote. On the long kitchen counter, cakes and cookies awaited their round. Exotic citrus was also a must, Delicatessen were always stuffed with goods, right before Christmas. The 70s were good, the government borrowed a lot of money, we drank Dodoni citrus juices and stuffed our mouth with Wedel’s hazelnut chocolate bars.

It was perfectly ok, on Christmas, to let our appetite get lose and we did not even try to resist those ginger breads or babkas, mazurek, poppy seed strudel, cheesecake or delicious Polish keks (fruit cake which has more cake but less fruit than traditional American).
And if it wasn’t enough, we had “bigos” (the hunter’s stew) or a hare pate, for a Christmas Day.

We never knew, except grandma perhaps, all lyrics to every “koleda”, after all, we only practiced it once a year.

Under the Communism, Soviets tried to introduce Dziadek Mroz or, in translation, “Grandpa Frost”. Dressed in gold, he distributed bags filled with sweets, oranges and walnuts for all the coworkers’ children at my mom’s office. I guess the idea of Grandpa Freeze, as my daughter named him, did not work and the position of Swiety Mikolaj a.k.a. Santa Claus was secured.

Shopping malls lure people with attractive goods now.

These days, Poles may only sporadically keep their carp fish in their tubs, changes are visible, as people trot to stores, but most of traditions stay the same. Fish come in tens of styles, more ingridiants are added, the tradition to cherish baby Jesus in beautiful Christmas carols, continues. And millions of Poles as always will attend midnight mass “pasterka.”

TRYING TO REVIVE the old Christmas spirit, we pay less attention to what stores have to offer and more to each other and the traditions. A couple of years ago, when the fashion show of Christmas trees begin among my friends, I said, it is crazy, and asked a single mother of one who lives in a trailer, if she has a tree and where she gets it. She directed us to a hardware store in Monson, and promised we won’t pay more than $10. And we didn’t.

The idea was to pick the “ugliest” tree, the one that nobody wants. So we started a new tradition, nothing makes us happier than Charlie Brown tree. Why shooting a turkey if there are plenty of frozen turkeys in a supermarket. They already dead, cleaned and have no bullets.
And this year is no different. We purchased the tree that would probably not find a family to go home with right away but in our eyes is the most beautiful.

We also promised ourselves that we will learn lyrics to one more Polish Christmas carol each year.

And when it comes to gifts, we ask for less this year. Let others trip over their rushing bodies at malls. Deflate your oversize snowman in front of your house, concentrate on your home & family. Donate to your favorite charity, support those who are less fortunate. Simplify your life and you’ll see how rewarding it may become. Start a new tradition by donating a book to local library, “In Desert and the Wilderness” by Henryk Sienkiewicz would be a great choice. Let children enjoy it as many children around the world already are!
Warning, that kind of state of mind is addictive. Once you start it, it will be difficult to go back to spending spree Wal-Mart style. But so be it.

THERE WAS LIFE BEFORE THE DIAPER GENIE

click to enlarge baba Hala (1969)


THERE WAS LIFE BEFORE THE DIAPER GENIE... (2006?)

Allow me to address this issue first, and I know that I'm not going to be popular here, but someone has to say it…

The traditional folk costumes that we adore so much at Polish festivals, handmade masterpieces, sometimes carefully passed from one generation to another are often missing one important element: understanding of its symbolism.
If you are a Golden Girl, a happy grandma of 2,4, (5,6…or more cherubs), you need to read this. For others, it's optional.

You know that unwritten "rule" that you're not supposed to wear white after Labor Day? Exchange "white" for a "wreath" and "Labor Day" for "rest of your grownup life." The wreath on a girl's head symbolizes her maidenhood, that she is innocent, you know, I'll spell it out for you, a v i r g i n. So ladies, if you are eligible for a senior discount, keep the shirt, skirt and the embroidered vest, but please lose the wreath! Because either you are trying to prove something impossible, something against the laws of nature, or you are just plain lying to yourself.

Keep the pretty necklace, but let the girls wear a flowery wreath and ribbons. The old folk tradition is that during the wedding ceremony, the bride would wear a wreath made out of herbs from her own garden. At midnight, in the presence of an all-female crowd, her neatly braided hair is cut and the flower wreath is replaced by a cap (czepiec) which is why this ceremony is called oczepiny (capping) Traditionally, the czepiec was made by a bride's godmother. It was a thick and stiff fabric decorated with sewn on silk or dried flowers, sequins and beads, and was way too festive for daily wear. The white handkerchief or scarf was more practical saving the czepiec for Sunday's mass.

So AARP subscribers, you can keep dancing but it is time to pass the wreath on to your granddaughters.

Searching through the TV channels, somewhere between a commercial for a cream promising to leave your skin glowing and a "talking grill" from Playskool, a new profession was introduced to us viewers. It is called a life coach, and I was told that we all supposedly need one. Laura Berman Forgtman who represents this soon to be most desired profession explained, "After 9/11 people don't know what to do with their lives. Feel lost? Need help with coping with every day life? You definitely need a life coach." We need guidance, but the guidance doesn't come cheap.
But don't worry, they give scholarships, so waste no time and apply now. And what's the difference between a regular therapist and a life coach? See, on the comfy couch of your therapist's office you deal with your past and your present. The life coach, on the other hand, takes care of your present and your future. So I guess if you need to find out about the whole you, you need to see both.

How about a consultant whose job is to…protect you from people such as life coaches? And another one that will chose the TV stations for you so you are not exposed to such nonsense? Books on how to live and improve yourself sell more copies than ever. People, what ever happened to common sense?

Visible effects of times changing are reaching other continents as well, my cousin in Poland, who just had a baby, hired a nanny so she can lose some extra pounds. I remember the time when my own daughter was born, some 23 years ago this April. Right away, I moved from Warsaw to the country, so the baby could breathe fresh air and where you grow your own fruits and vegetables. And where you take an early morning stroll to the local farmer to buy fresh milk, which was still warm with cream floating on the surface. Where you could personally thank the cow for sharing this marvelous product At the time the idea of losing weight was…you took care of the baby all day by walking with it attached to your hip, switched hips from time to time. You secured the baby with one hand, while bending, using the other hand to help the "tetra"(cotton) diapers soak in "platki mydlane" (soap flakes). Later, you washed it in a large plastic bowl placed inside my grandparents' custom made ceramic tub (you could wash half a dozen grandkids in it at the same time!). Occasionally you used the famous but ancient washing machine called Frania or Swiatowid (choice of two!) but the washing process was longer and I needed things to be done… fast, so for me it was quicker by hand. Then you carried a heavy load of clean diapers, walked to the clothes line that was spread out between pine trees (for fun, you could coordinate plastic cloth pins by color!), and you came back …two pounds lighter.

Bending over that tub made your waistline slim enough to make Liz Taylor foam with envy. And if you took your baby in a stroller for an afternoon walk and lose some more, that's a bonus! These days, on hand are disposable diapers, washer and dryer in one, a nanny and then a preschool group with English as a second language. And if the baby misses his mom, he /she can always SMS her with a message: "I love you, are you still there for me?" In those good old days fresh diapers smelled like pine trees…
Only last year I found out that in my area, here in West Brookfield, there was an environmentally friendly diaper service. I wished I knew it earlier; I could use it when my son was born but the company did not advertise and kept a small group of customers. The company name, like a well-kept tradition, passed on from one generation to the next.

That baby girl of mine, literally grew up with dogs, shared food with them, sometimes a blanket, and swallowed some cat hair occasionally. The bread crust that we used in Poland instead of a teether, when chewed came out between her fingers and always attracted a "pack of dogs" that followed her around. Grandma, in this small town still called "Pani doktorowa"(doctor's wife) to us ..Baba - Hala, I guess knew something when she told me, joyfully to "let her be, she'll be fine."

Dogs were something that we had plenty of. German Shepards and their mixes came from the era when Grandpa received puppies from his patients who had no money to pay, others belonged to my mom (a hairy little ball called ABBA) My uncle had a cocker spaniel, Fredzio, also a city dog, who came regularly in the summer to socialize with other dogs and for weight loss treatment. Yeah, some used grandma's estate as a spa or weight loss camp for the 4-legged. And if one dog had fleas, they all had fleas, but what are oak leaves for?
There were other dogs that came for different reasons as well as kids who belonged to family friends or co-workers. Therapy camp, you may call it, since some kids were tossed in there because their parents were in the middle of a divorce battle or something like that. We took them all in. My aunt Kasia sometimes brought local kids from neighboring towns. One time, she brought a little girl who belonged to an unmarried mother, a young woman who lived with her very old grandpa in a one room cottage. She wanted to go back to school. Kasia took in that toddler and my cousins and I washed her, fed her and played with her as if she were a doll. The most important thing was that we talked to her so she developed some language skills and stopped answering our questions with only the word "no."

I'd be lying if I said that it was all done unselfishly. Since those people were farmers, sometimes they rewarded us by letting our bunch to their strawberry fields so we could pick for our own pleasure. When the farmers picked enough fruit to make a good profit, whatever was left was "please, help yourself." We explored their barns and looked for kittens buried in hay.

As for mosquitoes? The aroma of Vitamin B, thinly spread on uncovered parts of your body, prevented them from getting near us.

Grandma made rhubarb pancakes with powdered sugar, and at the time my favorite dish was sorrel soup with hardboiled eggs. And only one person knew how to find sorrel on banks of the Wilga River. It was my uncle Maciek, and that special talent made him awfully valuable to all of us. Another was mixing cream for cakes in an era where most home made dishes were prepared by hand; he was the "human blender." On a hot day, chilled and thick sour milk (kept on the top of the fridge with plate over it) with potatoes and dill was a consolation.

The eggs came from Mrs. Sentkowska's chicken coop, this lovely lady, our neighbor, and a widow who lived in a house covered on two sides with grapevines. She lived in this town a little longer than my grandparents, and there is a legend that it was in her house that one of my grandparents' children was conceived. But the two old ladies shared something else; both had children who during the epidemic contracted polio.
She gave us eggs and all she asked for in return was to save the eggshells so she could feed her chickens with them. And I call IT recycling!
Eggs came in handy for her famous "ajerkoniak," a spiked eggnog, which on lazy afternoons she occasionally brought for tasting.

But the "it" drink was "podpiwek," a non-alcoholic dark beer. You made it from an extract (hops & syrup), simmered with sugar, and when cooled you just needed to add yeast. Then you would pour it into those old fashioned green and brown bottles with a wire lock. Left in a dark and cool pantry, neatly stocked on pantry's shelves for (agonizing!) 3-5 days. And when the right moment came, grandma would check on how many of those bottles actually exploded and how many were still good (we counted the good ones with a sigh of relief) and I swear, there was nothing better than this on a hot summer day!

Two men, Mr. Mroczek and Mr. Bugalski, who understandably had a little competition going on, provided the fruits and vegetables that we did not grow. I brought my baby daughter to meet them at the gate, just like my grandma did when we were children. Men often raced and whoever got there first shyly asked if the other was already there before him, and grandma as always gave both a negative answer. When either of their cart arrived, skinny Mr Mroczek or chubby faced Mr. Bugalski pulled off the plaid and revealed wooden cases with apples, plums, pears, waxed beans, potatoes, cauliflower, cucumbers, sunflower heads etc, bees attracted by sweetness buzzed around. We, the kids, of course paid more attention to the horse than to the produce and in the meantime, grandma and Mr. Mroczek had a chance to catch up on gossip.

And what gave away, to either man, the presence of the competing seller was his horse's droppings left in the middle of the road.
My grandma passed away last September, and I believe that Mr. Mroczek and Mr. Bugalski died some time before her. She joined grandpa and is also in the company of Mrs. Sentkowska, sipping ajerkoniak made of eggs from heavenly hens.

A couple more things: back then we did not have a baby monitor in every room, but "extremely smart dogs" that barked when the baby in the carriage was crying in discomfort. My kids grew up without a "blankie", a soft blanket to sleep with, to drag behind everywhere to feel secure, simply because I did not know that they needed one. And they both ate the bread crust, because they did not know there was an option not to eat it. They were both accustomed to the civilized way of using the toilet at age …1 ½ years old and never ordered from the kids menu at restaurants, …and I can assure you they turned out ok.

I won't brag to my kids about my fun childhood again but when one of them one day, for their own kids, gets one of those must-have devices like the "diaper Genie" (thermos-like plastic tower with 30 dirty diapers condensed inside it that "decorates" the baby's room),

I promise, I will start all over again.

ONCE I WAS APANACHI...

click to enlarge

ONCE I WAS APANACHI...

...the raven haired sister of the Indian chief Vinetou. My cousin of course was the chief himself minus the wig. To those of you who did not watch Polish TV in the 70s, I need to explain that Vinetou was a character in the German series based on a book by Karol May. There were others, American "Bonanza" and "The Broken Arrow" so us Polish kids did actually play Cowboys and Indians. But now I think that we should have been playing Democrats and Republicans. It would have done me more good.
It would surely prepare me for what the real America is all about.
We did not have a "real" horse because grandma’s German shepherd Ajax refused to play one. We did not take scalps. I’m sure grandma would not allow it. And in our plays, the Indians were the good guys and the cowboys were bad. Why? I do not know. Maybe it was because if my cousin made me play a blond cowgirl, I would run to grandma and tell on him. I knew I was born to be the Indian squaw. I loved the idea of running in woods pretending to be chased by the invisible White Men with Guns. Besides I thought I looked good with homemade bow & arrow rather than a gun.
My cousin had a "rifle" made out of a piece of wood, and he engraved "Winchester" on it. I’m embarrassed to say but the only plunder that we were ever able to get was anything from grandma’s pantry. Our favorite? Chocolate covered graham crackers called Koreanki (little Koreans? Don’t ask). I shot a lot of arrows for these. We also destroyed a few blankets by leaving them over night in the rain; those were perfect to throw over the lighting stroked tree that fell, to set up a wigwam.
Over the years, thanks to my loving family, I somehow developed that sentiment for the underdog. So no matter how I felt about a particular team, organization, group, religious or non-religious, I always cheered for the underdog. I couldn’t help it even when my son’s team was wining (which happens a lot); I felt that someone should be standing for the other team, the losers. Sorry son.
Luckily, I met a man who shares the same eccentricity.
On the day of our arrival, we were not affiliated with any party or group. Now I think that we had an advantage of not being born Republican or Democrat. Perhaps it has helped us to be more objective, see things from both sides, as we did not pick our friends on those grounds.
Before I arrived in US, I knew that there were only a few Native Americans left. So I obviously became in favor of them. At first, I was unaware of any anti-Catholic sentiments. Then came the African- Americans, and gays and whoever else that needed to be supported for being a minority. I tumbled upon several prominent American Jews as I still cannot understand how one can ask for tolerance if does not practice it itself.
Years back, I lived under Communism where the Catholic Church was oppressed, so it was shocking to me to learn that in democratic United States, similar rules apply. Also, the perception of Communism and people associated with the system in the US is distorted.
Usually, when the opponent runs out of arguments, he may call me a "leftist" and it proves that he has no clue what real Communism is about.
In fact, Communism is tyranny. Few become rich, the rest is manipulated (yes, the media plays a role) and all in the name of so nauseatingly repeated "values." Corporations trash the environment for profit, and the government is bribed to allow it. Communist leaders secure their position by surrounding themselves with loyalists, and you know what? It’s typical for a Communist leader not to admit to his own or his party’s mistakes. Perhaps, this subject deserves a whole new article.
On November 2nd (2005), my view of "what it means to be an American" changed.
I just found out that it is completely different of what I thought for years. I have to adjust now. And I put together what I already know with the newest findings. It came out like this: the majority of us love to talk about and watch anything about sex. Every TV show comes down to sex at the end. We pay more attention to "who’s hot" than to global issues. We like to hear about sex among celebrities, teachers seducing students, and as we all know, sex sells. Yet we are more conservative than any nation that I know. Ok, it’s silly but I think this is a good example. My husband had no problem with viewing Janet Jackson’s breast on any foreign TV except for maybe Al-Jazeera. We (Americans) love to watch Jerry Springer, but we ban Janet from live TV. We don’t approve of gays being married, Clinton’s affair with Monica Lewinsky caused a national scandal but President Bush’s invasion on another country with a result of thousands of people killed does not occupy our minds that much because "he is a man of great values."
The majority of us pray a lot, are deeply religious, talk a lot about the importance of education, yet in the US there are twice as many shopping malls as there are high schools. The Church of Materialism has the largest number of believers.
Is it of anyone’s concern that voting against people’s rights sends us a few decades backwards? President Bush promotes "moral values." What moral values? I believe that as an individual, I do not have a right to force my beliefs on anybody. I’m a Catholic, but as I understand, Jesus’ teachings weren’t mandatory.
America to me was a cradle of democracy and since I remember, always associated with tolerance.
But when The White Men with Guns won in November, I realized that I was teaching my kids the wrong values.
I blamed myself for such a turnout. Were my arrows not sharp enough? Should they be poisoned?
And when my son stopped after soccer practice to give a homeless man a bottle of root beer he just purchased to quench his thirst, I was proud of him but I worried too. He needs to change his values in order to make it. People like my son or my daughter will be shouted at and called "bad" names like "liberal." They need to be tough, go to the church more often, "save" gays, support dead penalty (although its associated with backwards countries), buy SUV, get a gun, vote Republican.
No need to move to Utah to enter the Bushland, the Sea of Red States spread out evenly leaving the West and East Coasts, Midwest and Hawaii in Blue. Utah is where 72% voted in favor of the President Bush. Isn’t that where you can marry your underage cousin? Other issues? Abortion equals bad while killing Iraqi children with illegal cluster bombs equals good.
Alright, you may say that my prejudice against White Men on Horses developed back in my childhood due to too many Western movies.
But more Americans voted against George Bush than any sitting president in history of US!
I comfort myself thinking that on November 2nd, I found myself living in a "blue state" and being proud of it.
We are in the right state, alright, just the wrong country.

AT HOME IN AMERICA

click to enlarge Polish men's duty: Taking turns washing dishes in the rain...




AT HOME IN AMERICA (2003?)

As a kid I was obsessed with "Ameryka" magazine that my grandfather collected in Poland. He regularly purchased "Amerykas" in Ruch kiosks, which were located on every corner. It was a collection of tens of glossy books that, as I recall, represented the years 60-67. He had it covered and binded by year. Each book was way too heavy for a kid to carry; I was able to keep only one at the time on my lap. My cousin, who joined me in reading, got bored quickly, me? never! There were stories and pictures all from America. I knew how people lived, I knew what they ate, I knew how they looked and I knew how they dressed. We had glass milk bottles, Americans had milk in carton boxes, I thought it was so cool!
Juice boxes, plastic containers, disposable diapers, plastic cups, all that stuff that causes our planet to rot and doesn’t dissolve in the soil for some 500 years. While in Poland, fish was still wrapped in old newspaper and if you did not bring your own (reusable) bag you couldn’t carry your groceries. Americans drank coca- cola. My shopping trips with mom always ended with a stop at the coffee shop. That’s when I had my coca- cola. It was some kind of treat, for not bothering her at the store.
I remember a picture of a young couple on their farm somewhere in Montana or Idaho posing with their young son. They were captured standing in a front of a cloth line where all their Levis’jeans were hanging; At least a dozen, in different sizes. My thoughts were mixed from "don’t they wear anything else in America" to "original Levis’ jeans are expensive, they must be rich." Of course I was thinking in Polish categories.
There were pictures from some small town on the US-Canadian border. The borderline went exactly across the room attached to the bar. There was some gambling going on, but since it was on Canadian side it was all-legal. The borderline also went across someone’s backyard. And there was this cloth line... Someone could claim that his or her cloth line is the longest in the world, and stretches all the way from US to Canada. Imagine this, you wash your undies in the US and you dry them in the neighboring country. Amazing...
While reading "Amerykas" I discovered Ella Fitzgerald. I loved pictures of Louis Armstrong blowing his trumpet as if his face was made out of rubber and pictures of floats from Pasadena's Rose Parade. I remember behind the scenes pictures from "Whatever happened to baby Jane" with Betty Davies and Joan Crawford. And others from "To kill a Mockingbird." I knew all about them and I was probably one of few kids in Poland who knew who Sidney Pointer was. I could look at those pages for hours.

Most of all, I loved designs by Frank Lloyd Wright. There were similar houses by less known architects, meant for regular people, but I loved his work, that modern block design, with windows that covered a whole wall. Houses that were set on an edge of rocky mountain, houses in which I imagine regular people in America lived; houses that the average American could afford.
On my arrival, I did not expect American houses to look like mansion from the "Dallas" or "Dynasty" series. I expected them to look like smaller versions of Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs. So I cried for the first two weeks after arrival. We just moved from Germany where the living standards in 1986 were pretty high.
And in a small New England town nobody seemed to own the house like Frank Lloyd Wright’s. The apartment was huge. There were 5 windows in our bedroom; all covered with plastic, of which I’m sure Frank would not approve. A church lady showed up to show us HOW TO USE THE GAS STOVE. You know, those primitive Poles must have cooked over the bonfire. Slowly I learned to accept our new living standards.
I enjoyed the look of confusion on people’s faces as I contradicted almost every myth about my native country. But I could lie and have peace of mind or be truthful, accept looks of disbelief and have people keeping distance as If I was... some character.
I bombed them with revelations, like.. In supposedly a strictly Catholic country, I was THE ONLY CHILD of divorced parents, and I wasn’t baptized until I was 5. Only because, one day my grandparents decided to baptize all 5 (at the same time) grandchildren together. I had a blue dress on and white knee socks. Someone brought white pigeons and we set them free. Most of my friends were only children or had only one sibling. In the future, I pictured myself with three children, my rebellious side was telling me to rise above the average, typical 2 plus 1 family. And in my grade 1/3 of the students came form divorced families. My mom remarried; my mother in law remarried twice. Her two ex-husbands are not dead; they are very much alive. And she is the most devoted Catholic of them all.
Poland’s population is slipping due to the low birth rate. As typical for Western European countries, Polish women also chose careers over childbearing. It’s not like they were tied up in the kitchen all those years, quite opposite. In Poland women doctors and judges always outnumbered men. And the professions where men actually BEAT women were hairdressers and chefs. But it is only so because they had women teachers.
Next bomb was, the Polish winters were less severe than New England’s. What in Poland we called " the winter of the century," in New England I have a chance to experience every year. And the Polar bears were locked up in a zoo, rarely walking the streets of Warsaw. In last years Poles are experiencing snowless winters. Although occasionally
they may have a huge snowstorm in November, but then warm weather can bring tulips in my mom’s garden in February.
Cabbage and pierogi are great but, roasted chicken with young potatoes and dill and mizeria a.k.a. cucumber salad, I thought were traditional Polish foods, because that’s what we ate the most. For some strange reason, on my local radio station, un-appreciated cabbage always makes the list of most disgusting foods. To stereotype Poles as fat and cabbage eaters does not make sense. Nobody ever got fat on cabbage, although I heard of cabbage soup diet, go figure.

I do not expect to see "Polska" magazine in every kiosk in US but then think about it, Poles had "Amerykas" in kiosks under communism. What can we say about access to such info on Poland by millions of Americans? . With a monopoly on everything from movies, information to prescription drugs, with the shrinking number of growing corporations that are uncontrollable and unaccountable, I feel more and more at home as if I were in Communist Poland.
Levis just closed its last factory; no more US made originals. With big corporations running the country, with a few cocky politicians we are bullying the rest of the world and the word "diplomacy" is long lost from our vocabulary.

The other day at the bookstore I got my house coffee with free refills. Moments later I shuffled to the counter and since there were two people working there I asked the one close to the coffee machine if I can have a refill. He looked at me and said, " you have to stand in the line first." But I paid for it already and I just want a refill (and he is standing next to the machine). Nope. I looked at the long line of customers waiting for their coffees and cheesecakes. I landed here 17 years ago, but somehow at that moment I jet backed to the time when I left Poland that was still under communist rule. That incident reassured me, that people everywhere are the same, no difference. It’s the times; the circumstances caused by governments can change people’s attitudes. Under communism the customer was necessarily evil and the shopkeeper was the god.

COW CHIP

COW CHIP by Justyna Ball

To the accidental passerby, Ware may seem as a typical New England mill town. Although it does remember better times for sure. The town took its name from “weirs” that Indians set up to catch salmon in the same river that, later on, powered cotton mills that supported hundreds of families in neighboring towns.

It was in the late1800s that the area attracted Irish, French and Polish immigrants who more or less happily coexisted on the river’s banks.

These days cotton mills are just relics of the past; nobody here makes straw bonnets anymore nor shoes for that matter either. Instead, Wal-Mart offers jobs to young local people.

The town became somehow forgotten. Unappreciated, but I do believe, it still possesses some of the old character. Where others see “Dollar Store”, “Everything For a Buck”, a bowling alley, or laundromat, I see Church Street with old colonial and Victorian houses lined up all the way to Old Gilbertville Rd, the one with a covered wooden bridge. I see majestic trees on both sides giving shady relief to joggers and dog owners walking along.

Where others see Main Square with the old run down Casino theatre, and local losers sitting and watching the world go by, I see how some already turned the old factory complex into store outlets, a gym, veterinary clinic and café.
Dulak’s Garage is still there although Gabriel Narutowicz’s Polish Club next door changed its name to Gabe’s. Neither Gabe’s nor the White Eagle Club on Pulaski Street attract the local youth. The town is not dead yet, but it is harder and harder for the younger generation to see a bright future in this ex-commercial town.

A few years back the local high school received a well-deserved face-lift. The pinkish and turquoise coloring creates a contrast to the shabby gray building standing next door.

The school shares a driveway with a National Guard’s Recruiting Station. It is not a coincidence that in early spring, an enormous banner appeared right in front. The National Guard wanted students to know that it is OFFERING 100% FINANCING OF COLLEGE EDUCATION.

All you have to do is join. Representatives of the US Army make regular visits to local public high schools. They visited my daughter’s school 4 years ago and now they visit more often. My son’s school, an hour away, is spared, simply because a private (although all boys) school in a nice neighborhood for some reason does not appeal to the recruiting team.

But since Francis was in the public school system up until the 8th grade he does receive “invitations” from the Army quite often. One promised him up to $70 000 for college AFTER he serves, as well as up to a $20 000 enlisting bonus and a US Army T-shirt, FREE. The young American is also promised an adventure.The flyer displays a picture of happy soldiers in front of an Apache helicopter and a Bradley fighting vehicle. Oh, and a smiling soldier in camouflage holding a …laptop. Not a gun but a laptop. Not a single gun in any of the pictures, just fun toys to play with. In the finest print “ Benefits based on qualifications. Information subject to change.”

Only a dog’s haul away in Brookfield, St. Mary’s church just held an annual Cow Chip festival. It caused some inconvenience for drivers for a couple of days when workers had to separate the area by ropes, number the squares and fence it. For those who do not know how to play; you invest $10 or more, get a number, then come to the common to watch the cow do a “number” on your square, win $2500 instantly. As simple as that.

The best part is when the “investors” cheer the cow from all angles and try to direct her into their square. The cow of course comes completely unbiased, moves slowly, smacks flies with its tail and after dining on fine grass all day, later may drop a chip or two on the ground and the winner is announced.

Cow chips or pies are nothing new. Pioneers used buffalo chips for cooking instead of burning wood. Women and children used to walk along trails and picked it, and yes, used as an alternative fuel.

Beaver, Oklahoma, has its National Chip Throw Contest. Records are broken, and champions are loudly applauded. But when I first heard about it I had no clue what that contest was all about, and frankly never thought that someone may actually turn cow manure into a national sport. If only farmers in Poland knew, they might even want to compete and start Trans-Atlantic competitions.
Cotton Mills, Cow Chips are our local folklore just as the Asparagus Festival in West Brookfield is. At least the Apple Pie Contest at Salem Cross Inn is what it is, an apple pie contest.

There are fewer job opportunities in Ware and the army knows it and as we all know by now the number of new recruits nationwide are the lowest since 1999. And the National Guard is even worse, some 25% behind.

Lack of interest? Or maybe the parents and students are more cautious now about what they are getting into. Even though there is a ban on showing the coffins of the soldiers coming back from Iraq, the fact that an average of 2 soldiers a day die gives them something to think about. I guess we finally started seeing the truth where this war is taking us. The money and opportunities that the army offers are great but since Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld himself agreed that it may take 10 years or more before we can leave Iraq, some may think, are the kids going to use the benefits that the flyers promise? The answer does not appear so attractive anymore. Unless we are working for Haliburton. More money going their way, exactly a billion dollars more than last year, lining their pockets with money from soldier transportation to movie rentals. The several million dollars questionable overcharging did not stop the army from signing the newest 5 billion dollar contract.

Nobody doubts, by now, who profits from this war the most. It was just a matter of time for more information about Bush’s administration tactics “how to sell the war to our allies” to come out. Now, we have two wars going on. The real one, where our soldiers come mutilated or don’t come back at all, civilians killed or burnt, apparently insurgents can train faster than we can train Iraqi police. The war with no end. And there is another war, Bush’s war that is a success; the war that was won but the peace process is somehow taking a detour. Public patience has its limits but Bush’s administration has no scruples.

President Bush put us into this deep “cow chip” and he appears to have no clue how to get us out of it. And to tell you the truth, I don’t think he and his thugs care.