Wronski the Rebel with an Accordion

My older Cousin "Squeezy" Wronski, as you might deduce, he played the accordion.  "Lady of Spain" was a staple in his oeuvre. Polkas? Do you really need to ask? BTW, who did steal the Kishka? He wrote a lot of his own stuff too.

Give it a listen ...

Well, as we can also deduce, he was irresistible to the fair sex. Don't know for sure whether it was the playing, or his rebel nature. It's there in all us Wronski's, just most of us keep the kavorka under wraps. 

It wasn't always so. Here's our guy in the early years. As clean-cut a Polish lad as ever there was. Being a Wronski. Even more so. But, alas, circumstances shape who we become. In unimagined and unforeseen ways.

But, don't be fooled by that handsome, clean-cut Cousin Squeezy in the above photo. Harken back to the earlier image you'll get more of an idea of how he turned out.

For instance, how did he get the moniker "Squeezy"? There are a lot of differing stories on that. One is that at his Mother's knee he helped with the washing and did a pre-squeeze on each of the wash items. It was in his nature. He was good. At squeezing, of course. Not, of course, Mother's cashmere panties. Washed in cold water, towel dried, then blocked to shape. Don't go asking me in the comment section about cashmere panties. Okay? 

Then, at an early adolescent age — actually before that but in a more innocent way then — our boy discovered the fairer sex. Good Catholic boy that he was, no sex. But, what's a piece of Apple pie without cheese? Or, a little kiss without a squeeze? Take a proclivity to do a Joe Biden whenever and wherever, add some of that locked in Wronski DNA charm, charisma, and kavorka, and ... well, nobody went home from the party without a good Polish hug. From, well, you know who.

Truth be told, Squeezy is not the only name bestowed on him on account of his reputation. His alter ego what had the legendary Polka and Jazz careers was internationally known as "Sleazy Squeezy". Cousin wrote most of his own tunes. Trouble was that he would give them the most disgusting, vile, depraved, gross, vulgar, obnoxious names.

Once Sleazy Squeezy was auditioning for a gig. He played the most beautiful tunes, but the titles he gave his pieces were just too outrageously gross. Really, the worst: dirty, salacious, crude, offensive, scatological, vile. Dirty. Not at all PC. I reiterate to give you, the reader, as clear as possible a sense of how low he went. 

So the nightclub manager said, “You know what? I really like your music. And I want to hire you. So go ahead and play for my customers. Just don’t tell them any names for your tunes.”

Understandingly, Squeezy says, “OK, that’s all right.”

One evening he starts playing his accordion. [You may be wondering how come an accordion player is booked solo to just tickle and squeeze — pun intended. Read on, all will become known.] 

The crowd goes crazy. A standing ovation. They never heard anything like it. The tunes are so beautiful. Such variety. The accordion, sublime.

After an hour of playing, he says “I’m gonna take a short break. I gotta go to the can.”

So he leaves. And goes to the bathroom.

On his way out of the restroom, he forgets to zip up his pants, and somebody sees him and says, “Hey, do you know your zipper’s undone and your dick is hanging out?”

The music man says . . . “Know it? I wrote it!”

Okay, I slipped in a joke. Call me pisher. You liked it though; admit it!

Now that we know how our dear Cousin rose to such prominence, let me give you a little "Amuse Bouche" of an idea of that.

This cat was so with it he played solo sets, booked for weeks, at all the hot spots here in cities throughout the good old US of A. He traveled. Let's just say that his suitcase was plastered with stickers. If you are too young to know what that reference is about, look it up! [You lazy-ass mofo whippersnapper!]

One of the times I got to see him live was in New York City. At Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle Hotel, in the swell UES of the Big Apple. [Again, for the younger reader: UES stands for "Upper East Side" — of Manhattan] and "Big Apple" refers to Manhattan itself. As in, the apotheosis of all cities. Again, for the wet-behind-the-ears set — that would be the Pineapple, er pinnacle, of the jazz musical dinner club demimonde. Well, that's according to those who live on the UES*. And, they should know; that's a real big bucks neighborhood. So you know folks there know from. 

*See, now you know what that means — UES — and you don't have to scratch your head no more. At least on that point.

You should know that Bemelmans is by definition a piano bar. Jazz, the American Song Book. Long-standing tradition. So many of the greats played there.

So here's Cousin Sleazy Squeezy Wronski playing sets at Bemelmans. On the same night as Bobby Short, at his sublime piano; and, voice. Yet. Yet. Mr. Short opened for Squeezy! That's right. Call them up and ask them about it. It's legendary.

Cousin Squeezy Wronski. He was good. And, when he was bad, he was really good.

PS He wasn't all Polka. He was a Jazz Man too. But, even at those swell spots where the well-heeled, rich and famous frequented, he always got a standing ovation after an all-Polka finishing set.

I'm not saying it's so, nor am I saying it's not so; but, Jackie O was reported to have Polka'd around the place 'til closing time. How about that! Huh?

Wait! There's more. Wronski's that is.

CLICK to see the whole mess of them ...