Polka In October, Of Course… Not?!

When did Polka for Oktoberfest make sounds using only electronic circuits... Where was the plug… I was lookin‘ for a right good yank!

A well-anticipated trip for me to Casa Bavarian, a beautiful German restaurant in the distant, magical, quaint and cloudy mountains of Puerto Rico... I must have had my head in the clouds as I imagined a Puerto Rican Octoberfest.  It was so high up in my mind‘s eye, that reality was as enshrouded as the alpine trek.

Polka… no. Instead of the sounds of accordions, the real sounds of Germany and Czechoslovakia. How about Electro, techno, rave—and then, hip-hop.

I guess Puerto Rican-Germans reckoned that if you want pipe organs, tubas and an accordion around, why lug those huge beasts up the incline; when a small keyboard, schmaltzy DJ and a synthesizer would do for small change.

Now this happy American family lets the good times roll with unusual harmonies and complex rhythms from all sorts of genres. When Jazz musicians improvise and get all quirky, depending on their mood, I can even pretend to be one smooooooth cat, baby. I can see my friends too getting kicks from a-jumpin' and a -jivin' and groove to the wildcat beat of sweet jazz sounds, ragtime, swing, Dixieland, bebop and free jazz.

But, wherever I go, I simply cannot accept a different version of Polka. I’ve driven through rural Wisconsin when the Twin Cities’ radio stations lose range… I know polka!

Polka is for Oktoberfest!!!!

Guys, this is October—Oktoberfest time and our Puerto Rican friend’s entrepreneurial interruption was inauspiciously targeting the teenager market and not German “multiculturalism” in the least. If two world wars wasn’t bad enough press, this would turn sour any novice first impression of Germany at it’s apex.

This was apparently just another reason to drink. I have my doubts that any patrons even knew what the divil Octoberfest meant. But you could put up a sign around here advertising circumcision and as long as there were Jeeps with 4’ X 8’ speakers blarin‘, Puerto Rican beer and bikinis; it is a party.

Our Czech Republic friend lives at the condo here in PR.  He brought a posse of Slavs to the same restaurant earlier in the year before the nebulous “Octoberfest“ signs piqued the native interests. They all work for the European division of Hewlet Packard here.

Usually serene, calm, unruffled… he came home with a hole in his soul where his hinterland once was. Shuffling like lumbering lumps… no polka, no German beer, only watered down native stuff. They left and found their ‘stash’ at a local Thai restaurant.

Now COME ON!

I’ll have Oktoberfest in January instead.