Apparently I don't like to stay too long at home, because last week once I returned from the wonder of Wichita I spent exactly one full day in Minneapolis and turned right around to go off on another mini-break. This time around my roommate Amy and I stopped off first in Rochester to visit our delightful friend Tai who is in full wedding-planning-family-freaking-out mode. She is the most easy going person you will ever meet in your entire life, and I truly admire her ability to remain sane and joyful when everyone around her is making her life a personal hell. All for a wedding! I've never understood this madness. Why should the happiest day of your life require you to break out in stress hives? This I think was Tai's intention when she wanted to have her wedding in her parents backyard, go real casual for the ceremony and her reception, but I guess the fam had other plans. This is why I want to fly somewhere warm and tropical for my wedding (when and if I have one, which is essentially my way of knocking on wood and not jinxing myself by talking about a wedding before I have even the hint of a groom lined up). I want my wedding to be a stress free as possible, even if that means leaving everyone at home. Anyway we got tanked on Margarita's and talked about boys, which is as good an antidote to insanity as I have ever heard.
Having woken up remarkably sans hang-over Amy and I pressed onward towards the heart of Darkness itself, Wisconsin. Now, we tease Wisconsin here in Minnesota, what with their steady diet of beer, cheese, and deep-fried beer battered cheese, their obsessive compulsive relationship with Brett Favre and their general drunken zaniness. But I'm going to admit to what all Minnesotans secretly know and feel shamed by: Wisconsin is a) a prettier state than Minnesota and b) their citizenry, while a bit on the weird side, are definitely more outgoing/ less reserved and culturally diverse than their mostly Scandinavian counterparts to the west. I personally blame the crazy-ass Germans and the small but vocal Arab contingent (of course, that's because I'm German and Arab, and like to take credit for everything). I may be locked up in the Mall of America and chased by rapid Norwegians and Swedes throwing ludefisk and lefsa for admitting this, but we all know it's true, and I'll risk Minnesotan exile in order to speak the truth. I imagine I could fine sanctuary across our Eastern border.
Now I didn't always feel this way about Wisconsin, but this time I around I decided to put all my joking aside and really embrace that which is the Sconnie lifestyle, and I came back a better person for it. First off all, you are pretty much required by law to have some sort of alcohol running through your veins at all times, preferably beer. At Summerfest, where we were to see Cowboy Mouth (more on this shortly) there were easily 8 different manners of beer tent. Just types of beer tent. There were approximately 1700 actually tents. You could have your good old American swill, Miller, or you could go slightly more refined with a refreshing Leinie's. For something a little unusual there were 4 different offerings from Sprecher, not even counting the non-alcoholic wonder that is their Root Beer. Then for the micro-brew beer snob I counted 3 different brewery pavilions, and I didn't even walk the full length of the festival. These weren't stands so much as they were mobile restaurants. Now how can you not love a State whose biggest outdoor festival practically prevents you from walking more than 8 feet without buying a beer? Second of all, there is a giant ass lake right next to Milwaukee, and while MN may be the land of a Thousand Lakes, we don't have a built up city by one like Wisconsin. Sure, Duluth is plenty beautiful, but if you don't have a cabin, there just isn't much to see. Third of all, and this again, may be due to the huge amounts of beer I'm consuming, but I can say without a doubt that I have never had a bad time in Wisconsin. Never. Everytime I've gone to that state it's been a laugh riot. There was the wenis incident of 2001, when a bunch of us when to visit Ali after Freshman year, then there have been the several trips I've taken with Amy to see her family. So perhaps it was time for me to get off my high horse and really revel in the beer and cheese scented ether of Wisconsin.
The reason we went to Wisconsin in the first place was to see the band Cowboy Mouth. This is a New Orleans based band (or I guess used to be) and they ROCK. They have great music on cd etc, but live they are AMAZING: best live group I have ever seen, and I've seen Queen, U2 and Prince. Fred and the band just get so into it it's incredible to watch, and you can't help but be sucked in. The lead singer/drummer gets so sweaty you think he's going to have a heart attack right there on stage, but he just keeps giving it everything he's got, which makes the audience want to do the same, and honestly, provides you with a great, gut wrenching catharsis usually reserved for ancient Greek tragedy. Seriously, the next day, Amy came down to wake me up and I was all like "ouch, my abs hurts" and she was like "yeah, mine do too"... and we sat and thought about it for a while and realized we had been singing and screaming so hard it was like we had done a 2 hour session of Windsor Pilates. I appreciate any workout I can do semi-drunk.
So, long story short: Check out Cowboy Mouth. If you're the kind of mouth breather that needs a bandwagon, they are the band that did "Jenny Says", so there, they are too popular!
Saturday we did pretty much nothing, except explore the new monstrosities parading as single family homes that are going up around Amy's parents house. These home are ridiculously huge, and even though we were hiking our way through the bones of the homes, with just the wood frames, they are glutinous. There is no need to live in something that big, at least not something that big that isn't already standing. These homes are a terrible use of resources, destroying the surrounding wooded areas that were part of the reason people wanted to move out to the suburbs in the first place. These giant castles are built right on top of one another and sell for literally ungodly amounts of money, as in, you will have to sell your soul or your first born to purchase one. Now, those who know me know that I find the suburbs repugnant on the deepest level. I don't get them, and I don't get those who live in them. I cut them out of my life. I'll touch on that more, I'm sure, later. But, it was fun entering (no breaking, thank you) these unfinished constructions and getting to run around in them.
Then Amy taught me how to drive a stick shift. CORRECTION: attempted to teach me. Now, she was an excellent teacher, much better than my screaming parents (thanks for the hearing loss and deep routed fear of all things clutch related, mom and dad), but I have what is kindly referred to as a "lead foot". I do ok except for the starting and the stopping. And the shifting. We shall not speak of this again.
And then on Sunday, we went to Amy's brother's house for a party which included a whole roasted pig. Now I know some of you out there are vegetarians, and all I can say is, I'm so very sorry. Because pulled pork, like butter, is tangible proof that there is a God, and he does in fact love us best. Sweet sassy molassy- them's good eats. I won't belabor the point, but suffice it to say I practically ate myself comatose. But hell, I wasn't driving.
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3 comments:
Now, Hala, for purposes of entertaining those readers of your blog, perhaps we should get into a heated debate about why you are completely incorrect about the suburbs? If you're game, I have plenty to back up my argument that most suburbs are simply wire fingers of the cities, reaching out to provide those who live there with the things that they wanted in the first place. Is there something slightly disturbing about soccer moms who never had to work a day in their lives driving around in SUVs, or let's call them what they really are, tanks? Of course there's something grotesque about that, but then again, do they not work in and provide financial support for the fantastical haven in which you live?
Let's have a conversation about the Soccer Mom.
Why is the soccer mom so scorned? Such a target? Is it because she, unlike the rest of us, actually has A) the time to get a manicure AND pedicure every week? (who has that much time on their hands?) B) Has a tendency to use her children as the sole purpose of her life and thusly judges those of us sans kids as being inferior to the procreating portion of the population C) Has no obnoxius balding boss who's takes out his compensation issues on his employees D) never works, but seems to have no cash flow issues or E) that's she's got the lifestyle that the rest of us - in some way shape or form - sort of want?!?!
I must tread delicately, as I am friends with such Soccer Moms (thankfully for them, they only drive mini-vans, not SUV's...otherwise we couldn't be friends) and with those who see the Soccer Mom as an abomination to the femenist movement. At any rate -- I am quite conflicted about the Soccer Mom. On one hand, I see the grosteque-ness about it...but on the other hand - I'm jealous! Can you believe that? I know! For those of you who are as shocked as I am by that revelation - rest assured, I am seeking therapy. However, in my defense, I want to be a soccer mom minus the "mom" bit.
Hala, I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings about the soccer mom and suburbs...you writing is elegant and funny and ALWAYS interesting...
Well, Tai, I think you're right on so many levels. First off, since I am not a "blogger" I cannot have an identity. But, since I do not feel the need to hide behind the curtain of anonymity, I am Ali, Hala's country bumpkin friend who exposed her to the magnificent wonder that is the rodeo (see entry). Anyway, back to the soccer mom. I think she is likely scorned for all the aforementioned reasons, and let's face it, there is a little part of all of us that wants to be her. Then again, there is a little part of me that wants to be a WWE wrestler, but I don't bring that up in mixed company too often, nor does that mean I'm going to be hitting the gym every day and getting breast implants. But, Tai hit the nail on the head when she said that being a soccer mom sans the mom part would be just amazing. Its like being rich and oblivious at the same time, a combination that is magnificent to say the least and annoys the piss out of everyone around you, at least those of us who actually have a day job. Here's one final question about the soccer mom, however, why is it when you see them out with their offspring, they are always well-behaved. They are never yelling, screaming, or kicking, nor do they smell or have snot running down their faces. Is this indication that the soccer moms of the world are awesome parents, or are their children members of the same brainwashing cult that their mothers belong to?
I too want to hear more about Hala's feelings on the suburbs and those who inhabit them. I myself never quite understood the battle between the city and the suburbs, so perhaps someone can enlighten me?
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