Keep Your Hands Off My Dyngus - Or Keep Your Dyngus Off My Hands - Or Just Have Another Beer

It's been an interesting week since I arrived in the Fort, about six hours ahead of a spring snowstorm.  ("Snowstorm" in Fort Wayne means anything more than three inches of snow, and we had about twice that, which true Fort Wayners believe constitutes blizzard conditions.)  Interesting, but not too much to report.  I went to Chicago and found an apartment I like, a lot, and am still waiting to see whether I'm approved.  (In the next day or two I'll issue a full report on my future plans.)

This afternoon I got a call from a guy who told me that my lease application had been denied, and that really burst my bubble.  When I asked what he needed to approve it he told me he'd have me talk with his supervisor.  The supervisor's voice was that of my nephew, Ryan.  April Fool!  Well played, Nephew Ryan, well played.  He and I celebrate April Fool's Day the way other people celebrate Christmas.  This year, he set a high bar - or, perhaps one might say, a low one - and all I can say, Ry, is you better watch your back.

Coincidentally with it being April Fool's Day, today is Dyngus Day.  This is a Polish holiday celebrated the day after Easter.  Like all holidays, its origin is murky - and the meaning of "Dyngus" is even murkier - but in South Bend it's a big political deal.  All the politicos show up, along with a bunch of other people, and it's like Election Night only without the stress plus it starts about 9 a.m.

Our Allen County Democratic Party Chairman, John Court, is a South Bend native so this year he decided to initiate a bunch of us Fort Wayne innocents to the phenomenon of Dyngus Day.  He rented a van and seven of us (including, most notably, Mayor and Cindy Henry) headed northwest bright and early this morning.

10 a.m. First Stop, Hoosier Tap

This is a bar.  Nothing fancy, just a neighborhood bar but they opened at 9 a.m. and the band started playing just after 10.  I had a Bloody Mary, partly to pace myself and partly because I assumed (correctly as it turned out) that the green bean, olive and pickle garnish were going to be about 60% of the vegetables I'd be eating today.  It was busy when we arrived and people just kept coming.  South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg arrived, intern in tow, and like an experienced veteran, limited himself to coffee.  I know Mayor Pete from his unsuccessful run for State Treasurer in 2010 against the subsequently widely discredited Dick Mourdock.  The people of Indiana really screwed up that year, although it worked out well for folks in South Bend who elected Pete in 2011.  And I look at it as he "loosened the cap" for Joe Donnelly to beat Mourdock for U.S. Senate last year.  Speaking of whom, the Senator and Jill Donnelly also arrived, along with notable Democrats John Gregg, Baron Hill, Beth White and Jeff Harris.  Nearly everyone who's anyone in St. Joe County Democratic politics was crammed into the room, but since I didn't know any of them I won't recite their names here. 

 

Good conversation, good band, and I enjoyed the half of the Bloody Mary I was able to finish before John did the finger-swirl-wrap-it-up thing and we were on to the next place.



 

11:15 a.m., Westside Democratic Club

 

John's theory of the day was to get ahead of the crowds and that worked out well.  We arrived about ten minutes ahead of the rush at the Westside Democratic Club, which is in the heart of the old Polish part of South Bend and has been celebrating Dyngus Day since 1920.

 

 

We ate our lunch - a kielbasa sandwich, sauerkraut, and noodles with carrots (the kraut and carrots constituting a quarter of my vegetables for the day) - while watching as people streamed in.  A lot of the political people were the same ones we'd seen at Hoosier Tap.  John had us in a sort of progressive dinner - actually, one should more correctly say a Progressive Progressive Dinner.  Since this party was at a political club, not a bar (although the political club has a bar upstairs, which according to Cindy Henry used to be a speakeasy), there were some very short speeches, including one by our own Mayor Henry.  Preceding the speeches was a very nice invocation by an actual priest.  Somehow I found that shocking because I don't think of Allen County priests as being particularly open to Democratic values and I just sort of assume they're all Republicans.  That may be unfair, but that's what I think and this is my blog.  Plus the priest was wearing this colorful little Polish vest but I didn't get a picture of that.

 

Accuracy requires that I report the presence of one Republican elected official:  Attorney General Greg Zoeller.  (And yes, Dad, he is related to Fuzzy Zoeller.  I think they're cousins.)

 

After the speechifying and a bit more people watching, Chairman Court rose and it was time to move on.

 

1-ish, Elks Lodge #298

 

Back in the Day - and by that I think the 1970's - African-Americans in South Bend created Solidarity Day as a way of celebrating Dyngus Day.  The Elks Lodge is a largely African-American club and it is Solidarity Day Central.  I've never had Polish soul food before, but I think I did for my second lunch of the day.  Barbecued chicken (or ribs, but I chose chicken) and cole slaw (the rest of my vegetable intake), served with a kielbasa.  Oh, and more beer.  After the required speakers (again, short and sweet - they have this down to a science and the world would be a better place if more politicians, present company included, took a lesson from South Bend), the DJ started playing.

 

I am extremely pleased with this picture of Senator Joe Donnelly, so I will share it with you.

 

 

One note about the music:  whether live or recorded, at the Hoosier Tap or the Elks Club, the music was very much 1960's and 1970's.  Hoosier Tap was more rock with a bit of Motown, and the Elks leaned slightly more toward R&B, but I don't believe I heard any music written after 1978.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

 

I convinced Mayor Henry to dance for nearly all of a song, which, combined with climbing in and out of the van, comprised the total of my exercise for the day.

 

And then, the wrap-it-up signal from our Beloved Leader, and we were back in transit.

 

2-ish, MR Falcon Club

 

This is a Polish social club/hall, and we were greeted by a guy from Pittsburgh who is apparently in charge of these clubs.  He gave us a necklace that looked like red Mardi Gras beads with a plastic medallion that had the Polish Falcon phone number.  You just never know when you're going to need such a thing.

 

Since by this point I'd had two lunches and several drinks, I switched to a very weak vodka and cranberry juice (my only fruit of the day) which was weak enough that it tasted quite good.

 

I saw a bunch of photographers in another room and all of my instincts - both as a barely recovering politician and a nascent gonzo journalist - led me directly into that room.  In it I encountered a most unexpected sight:

 

 

Yes, that is Governor Mike Pence in the blue shirt and the dad pants, wearing tennis shoes.  Tennis shoes.  I found his choice of footwear remarkable, and I don't mean that in a good way.  In fact, when I first saw him from behind and Chairman Court said, "there's the Governor," I thought he was kidding because I figured there's no way the Governor would be wearing such inappropriate and ridiculous shoes.  I know he's running for President and all, but that's a metaphor, Mike.  Other than "he's recovering from major foot surgery" I can think of no acceptable reason why he would be wearing white tennis shoes at all, and certainly not with khaki pants.  So if anyone knows whether he had foot surgery, please post a comment and I will immediately post an apology.  Otherwise, I stand by my statement.

 

On the plus side, I got to have my picture taken with Mayor Pete.

 

 

Let me assure you that both Mayor Pete and Mayor Henry were wearing leather shoes.

 

The kielbasa sandwiches smelled very good but I passed simply because I didn't think I'd be able to climb back into the van if I ate one.  Interestingly, all of the places we went served their kielbasa with white bread (MR Falcon Club also had rye-flavored-white bread) rather than buns.  I don't know if that's a Polish thing or a South Bend thing.

 

We hung around to watch most of the staff of the Indiana Democratic Party get their picture taken with Governor White Shoes, and then, once again, we got back in the van.

 

3:30, South Bend Chocolate Company Chocolate Cafe

 

Not a Dyngus Day event, we stopped here to meet a friend.  He insisted that we try some of their many delights: lemon/berry cheesecake, a torte called Chocolate Eruption or some such name, three kinds of ice cream, candy, chocolate chai....it was quite a spread.  Hey, we hadn't had dessert, and I didn't want to be rude, so I did gnosh a bit.  Most delicious, but you already knew that.

 

Getting us out of this place was hard, because there was a really cute gift shop that required attention from several of us, but eventually we were all corralled into the van for the trip back to Fort Wayne.

 

And that, my friends, is Dyngus Day.

 

I still haven't heard from the leasing people.  Please keep your fingers crossed for me and I'll get back to you once I have something definitive to say.