Country Roads, Take Me Home to the Place I Belong!

(Now that you’ve envisioned yourself around a campfire with one too many Coors Light in you, I will tell you this):

Nothing says summer like 55 degrees in Wisconsin!

Okay, maybe it’s going to be a little warmer than that but I am not going to delude myself like last time and pack a bunch of sandals I never got to wear. Even though the calendar will say June, I will not be fooled into thinking it might actually be flip flop weather there. I cannot say, though, that the weather in New York has been much better. In fact, this spring has taken on a very Wisconsin approach to its weather systems. Sweat trickling down your back one day, a chill on your neck the next.

Regardless, I am way excited to be spending a few days in Milwaukee amongst friends, then the weekend at the ole’ homestead in the north woods. It always kills me when people ask me where I’m from because if they are fellow Midwesterners, they usually want to try to figure it out. It goes something this:

"Where am I from? Oh, from a tiny town outside of Green Bay,” I say (because everyone knows the Packers).

Then some dude from Iowa will say, “Oh, I’ve got family from around there.” (when actually his family is from Marinette. He might as well say they’re from the Upper Peninsula, for God’s sake).

“Tell me the name of the town. I bet I know it!”

Suddenly, there’s a challenge at hand and I don’t want any part of it. Yet, I’m forced to be.

And I’ll say, “No really, I don’t think you’ve ever heard of it. I mean, it’s a town of a thousand. And I grew up outside of it. Amongst corn and hay fields!” I am now looking at the ground, hoping dude will just drop it.

But he will be relentless and soon a crowd has formed around us because the suspense is just killing him and finally, my polite disposition will give way and I will try not to snap.

But then finally, completely exasperated, I will squeak out the name of my hometown.

And then a scrunched up brow, a shrug of a shoulders, a swig of a beer, and “Hmm, never heard of it” as he walks away while the big vein on my forehead is almost bursting.

Oh, tangents! All right, time to finish packing. Oh, and my mom just called. She said that they had frost this morning. (Sigh). So much for that one pair of sandals I was rooting for.