The Lithuanian Picnic -- A Final Farewell

Yesterday was the last Lithuanian picnic ~ both for the picnic organizers, the elderly sisters of the Immaculate Conception Convent in Putnam, Connecticut, and for me.

I invited Barbara to accompany my to the picnic.

We were both concerned that yesterday morning's rainy weather was to to last all day and follow us to Putnam. Fortunately, as soon as we left the area, so did the clouds and rain.

It was a gloriously warm day at the picnic, though rather humid, as is typical for this time of the year. But at least it was better than last year's picnic, which was overcast all day and threatening rain.

When we got there, we couldn't do the loterija right away because the Mass was still in progress. So we went to check out the vending booths instead.

One of the booths, Baltic Shop, had some new and very interesting jewelry. Many of the new designs were handmade items from Latvia.

While I am uncompromisingly and fiercely proud of my Lithuanian roots, I found myself not being able to resist this Latvian engagement ring. It's a 6th - 12th century reproduction of a ring that was worn by young girls. There are 7 silver tassels representing the 7 days of the week. The tassels are divided into 2 groups. The grouping of 4 represents the 4 seasons. And the grouping of 3 represents the sun, moon, and stars. Also, the dangling tassels are meant to ward off evil.

Because this was my last picnic I did not want to blow my last chance to get such a unique and unusual piece of jewelery. I even bought one fore Ariana so that she could have a memory of the picnic she had to miss.

Roma, Tony, and Michael joined us while I was making the purchase.

In the meantime, I happened to notice that the chow line was open. So I hurried down there to get my Lithuanian sausage dinner before Mass let out. Otherwise, I would have had to stand half an hour in line.

Neither nor Roma were interested in the sausage plate. It didn't look appealing to Barbara. And because Roma had eaten earlier, that was too much food for her.

I brought my plate to the picnic area behind the chicken dinner serving area. Barbara was rather surprised to see that some of the picnic tables had table cloths and blankets spread over them. She had never seen anything like that before.

Roma went off to get some kugelis (a baked potato pudding/cake that is a traditional Lithuanian dish). Barbara went to buy her ticket for the chicken dinner. And Tony and Michael had gone off to pursue their own agendas. Because she already had her own drink, I asked Barbara to get me a cup of the homemade fermented apple cider (which was included with the chicken dinner). I was thirsty, and the homemade cider was a bit on the hard side.

While Roma and Barbara were seated, I decided to take some pix. The fellow sitting behind Barbara was quite the joker. He was trying to do "bunny ears" behind Barbara's head as I was trying to take her pic.

No. Roma's not stern and grumpy. She is just squinting because she was sitting in the sun.

After we ate, Barbara and I went to the loterija, the chance game where you can win tons of prizes, while Roma went to look for Tony and Michael.

Sure, most of the prizes are sudas, which is Lithuanian for "shit," but there are some good ones to shoot for. And seeing the kids walking back to the picnic tables, carrying armloads of stuffed animals that they won in the loterija, gave me hope that the loterija was going to be as good and fun as ever.

Boy! Was I wrong! Really and disappointingly wrong.

Even though I had my usual good luck in selecting winning tickets, there weren't that many prizes to pick from. In fact, all the tables looked like they look at the end of the picnic ~ seriously picked over.

Also, the loterija was run a differently this time. Rather than just getting any prize that the volunteers would bring over, they said that we could select whatever we wanted because the prizes were not individually numbered like they were at other picnics past.

But it was so difficult to see what the prizes were and if they were indeed any good, especially those on the tables at the far end of the hall.

So we had the volunteer bring us promising-looking prizes only to find out, when we saw them close up, that they were, well, sudas.

It was really difficult trying to find something that we felt comfortable bringing home with us. And then the volunteer was getting so annoyed w/us that she reprimanded us: "Please make your selections and stick with them!"

(Well, she did ask for it when she told us to pick out own prizes. And it wasn't our fault that we couldn't the far-off prizes. If I were running the game, I would have consolidated all those pick-over prizes and placed them on the tables closest to the players.)

I tell you, that was the suckiest loterija ever. Normally I would spend at least $15 on tickets and bring home several bags of spoils. This time I only spent $5 and brought home just one bag. In fact, I regretted that I even spent that much and had to endure the agony of trying to find something nice among the sea of sudas.

One of the great highlights of the picnic was that I finally uncovered the "beer underground."

Even though the picnic is a dry, alcohol-free event, people do sneak booze in their coolers. And year years ago, after going to the Lithuanian picnic for over 10 years, I discovered that there was a covert Lithuanian booze-selling operation going on right on the convent grounds.

For 2 years I tried to find the booze truck. And finally yesterday I struck pay dirt.

It happened while Roma, Barbara, and I were sitting at the picnic table. We happened to notice a group of men at another table drinking beer. The bottles did not look like anything I had ever seen before. So I went up to the table as asked ~ in Lithuanian ~ if that was Lithuanian beer.

It was.

Wow! Where can I get some?

I was given instructions on how to locate the LBC ~ Lithuanian Beer Connection. While it was as cloak-and-dagger as giving a secret handshake while singing the Lithuanian national anthem backwards, it was still on the covert and discrete side.

What I had to do was to go to the vendor selling tee shirts and Lithuanian food and ask for the beer directly because the beer was not being displayed among the wares. It was all word-of mouth referrals.

Once I found the LBC, I had to practically run after him as he sprinting across the vending area and into the parking lot. From there the illicit deal was made. I gave the LBC $25 cash and scored half a case od assorted Lithuanian beers that came in pint bottles. The LBC was even kind enough to carry the bottles to my car.

After my covert contraband purchase, I made my way back to the vending area where I found Roma and Barbara in polite disagreement.

You see, Roma wanted to buy Barbara a ceramic figurine that she admired in order to show Barbara her gratitude and appreciation for all the help Barbara had given me. Roma tried to give Barbara the money to get the figurine while Barbara stubbornly refused.

So when I showed up, Roma gave me the money instead.

Roma gave me $10; the figurine was $12. I got the wheeler-deaer Russian vendor (whom we don't like, by the way) to sell it for me for $10.

Then Barbara saw a silver and amber lizard pin that she liked. We got Mr. Wheeler-Dealer to give us a price. Actually, it was a series of prices: "It goes for $45 wholesale. I can sell it for $32. I'll give it to you for $25."

Well, Barbara really liked the pin, but she only had a $20 bill. I offered to put it on my card and have Barbara pay me back. But Barbara had other thoughts.

"See if you can get him down to $20."

OK

"How about if I give you $20 straight cash. No credit card hassles."

The Russian hemmed and hawed. And then he indignantly proclaimed, "You hurt my feelings!"

But he did take the $20 in exchange for the pin, grumpily adding, "This is a tough crowd today!"

When we told Roma the story, she nearly peed her pants and died of hysterics.

"You hurt his feelings, too? I hurt his feelings 2 years ago and he still lets me know that. Hah! Hurt his feelings! He doesn't have any feelings."

As with any Lithuanian picnic, one is bound to run into familiar faces. Yesterday was no different. However, I tried to avoid them as long as I could. It's not that I did not want to talk to them and say "Hi," it's just that I wanted to do it on my own time and terms, when I felt good and ready for such an exchange.

Well, it didn't quite work out that way. I accidentally ran into Aldona. But that was OK; she was one of the easy ones to deal with.

Then I ran into Gerveliene. She was a tougher one. Both she and our mother were friends in England, and the their children grew up together.

She can sometimes be a bit sour and opinionated, and as such I try to avoid her until I am good and ready.

Gerveliene was with her oldest son, Alvidas, who was Roma's old childhood friend, and whom I had not seen in almost 40 years. They had a female friend from Lithuania with them. Alvidas was quite impressed that I had scored Lithuanian beer and was interested in finding the LBC.

I still had not seen Vytukas (AKA Vito), my "diaper buddy." He is Gerveliene's 3rd son and he was the first friend that I ever had. Our friendship goes back to the time when we were still in diapers, hence "diaper buddy."

Frankly, I wasn't all that crazy about seeing Vito. With each passing year he has gotten increasingly rude, critical, and bitter. And talking with him was, unfortuantely, no longer as pleasant and fun as it used to be.

I would have been content not to speak with him. But because this was going to be my last Lithuanian picnic, I felt that at least I owed him a token "Hello."

After spending some 3 hours at the picnic, Barbara and I decided that now would be a good time to head out.

As we were leaving the parking lot, I spotted Vito in a beach chair at his regular spot under the trees by the parking lot. So I stopped the car, rolled down the window, and called to him.

He was a rude as ever. When I told him that I was going away, that I was leaving for Texas, he said "Good."

I called out again, "Hey, Vito."

As he turned around and looked, I gave him the middle finger and drove off.