I sorta need to get back on track. I haven't been posting as regularly as I usually do, and I feel like my brain is beginning to whither from lack of creativity. I feel that if I just start writing something -- anything, the ideas will flow more freely...or some such junk.
It's hard to know. I haven't had many thoughts about anything lately. My creativity juices have been sucked clean from my head. Kinda like a crawfish. (Or is it 'cray-fish'? We northerners never get it quite right.)
Wow...that's some great imagery there. Sorry for that.
Or maybe not. If I can still invoke any feelings (even the 'eeeeew' variety) then I've still got something, right?
Ooh! Here's a fun fact for ya - back in February I read several posts by southerners detailing their Mardi Gras celebrations. (Most were written in slurrrrr.) What a few of them pointed out was that drinking is seen as a big no-no in most of the Bible belt, and Mardi Gras was the one time a year people really let their hair down and made a big to-do.
For like four days or something. Don't quote me on that.
Here in the north? Its too damn cold in February to do anything but hunker down, bust out the Snuggie and pray for spring (which I'm still not convinced we are experiencing yet).
So even though we have to sit idly by, teeth chattering and fingers numb while we watch you down mojitos and earn strands of beads via twitpic MONTHS before the frozen tundra begins to thaw, we get our revenge.
For you see...we have Catholic churches here. Lots and lots of Catholic churches. And they all have festivals. Every weekend, from May through September you're bound to find at least one.
And Catholic church festivals are known for one thing: THE BEER TENT.
(Oh, and meat raffles.)
(And pokerino. But mostly the beer tent.)
We Catholics don't frown upon public drunkenness. That means that on any Friday or Saturday night you can find yourself with a frosty beer in one hand, a hot ear of corn in the other, standing in front of a local cover band, dancing and jumping (and sloshing) and singing at the top of your lungs. I mean the best version of "You shook me all night long" is always the one accompanied by a couple of hundred drunks.
On top of that, Milwaukee prides itself for being the City of Festivals. Just check out that list - every ethnicity gets its own weekend festival. (We have a TRAIN FEST? Who the hell KNEW?!?) If the city could prove we had a substantial population of Lativans, well, we'd have to squeeze them in sometime in October.
You know...before the snow flies.
On top of THOSE even, there is the State Fair (a full 11 days of fried-everything-you-can-think-of-on-a-stick and more beer) and the county fairs. By the time September rolls around we're all on diets trying to stave off heart attacks. (Seriously - they plan to offer chocolate covered BACON this year. Uh, can I get a side of AED with that? Thanks.)
Then there's the Mack Daddy of them all -- SUMMERFEST. The world's largest music festival. Eleven stages of music free with your admission and a twelfth headliner stage you pay extra to go see. I tell ya -- nothin' beats sitting on the shores of Lake Michigan with a cool breeze at your back, eating a pulled pork sandwich, drinkin' a Leine's and listening to the likes of The Offspring or the Dropkick Murphys. Or both at the same time, which I just might try and do.
So I'll take Lundi Gras, Marcredi Gras and Vendredi Gras over your little ol' parade any day.
I guess living in the cold Midwest actually works for me. Well, if the temps ever make it above 70 this year I should say.