...you're what?

From that childhood quest to get positioned, for going one step beyond the known universe with God, the core of my life has been continuously ignited by the point.
The point, per se, intriguingly obscure to me still today, does ease into a conscious sweet reality, however, as............. stew of the Great Melting Pot.
For traversing the everyday life, my parents constantly tended a path of beautiful harmony. One of my earliest comprehensions was what I was.
To ensure the spirit had all the necessary provisions for my journey, at the age of five, outside the walls of my home and into the remote areas across Diversey Avenue, they drilled me on primary questioning: “What are you?”
They created an integration of their love of the Polish culture, with the love of the American Spirit, while  being non-judgmental of all other peoples. The axiom upon which this passionate and compassionate outlook was based is being American of Polish descent. This was an absolutely crucial element in their identity.
In having the good fortune to be in a country that had brilliantly established a doctrine of "separation of church and state" my parents were free to be "American" without restraint, and still be totally devoted to their faith. Whatever came to bear, their national identity and religion were exclusive.
I cannot tell you the number of times my Father and Mother preached to me how exactly to identify myself in this regard.
For me to say I was: "Polish" - "Polish American" – or - "American" - simply was wrong and unacceptable; it was American of Polish descent and nothing else was accurate. America was the country they were citizens of, and they were extremely proud of that, often expressing it with unabashed emotions. As fully engaged Americans they were determined to have their children live out the American Dream to its fullest. The entirely undiminished honor present in their Polish heritage mandated the recognition of one fundamental underlying truth: the vitality of their contributions to America as a nation was inherent in them being of "Polish descent". As grammar school kid, I gleefully saw this as "having my cake and eating it". Only as I grew older did I realize the absolute beauty of execution in a harmonious blend of totalities sovereign in psyche and emotion. There were some everyday practical applications as well, for example, with more than my share of pimples, ill-timed erections, and hormone storm craziness to deal with, I was free, thank you Dad and Mom, from adolescent ethnic embroilment.

And thanks for the continuing joy in the American cuisine, of infinite ethnic descents.
Just recently in my childhood neighborhood, I relished, with old friends, a sumptuous home made tamale one day ~ and savory home made kielbasa the next.

We had great fun partaking in this duo of American meals – one of Hispanic descent and one of Polish descent ~~ Hence the self-talk: “.............. put your mouth where your metaphysics is”.

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Happy Daze,
The Captain