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Blog Entry 81 of 94 Horoscopically Blonde

Life is pretty funny. From waking up in the morning and seeing yourself naked, to slipping down the driveway waving your arms about like a chicken, it's all about the humor. Death is serious. Life is hilarious. Unless you're a SeaHawks fan. Then it's tragically funny.

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On Wisconsin

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Contributed by: Jamie VanEaton on 3/7/2008

I was born in Wisconsin. I came out of my mom waving a foam finger that said, "Eat Cheese or Die". (As you can well imagine, the doctor was extremely impressed by my spirit.)

Real Wisconsin kids are nursed on cheese curds, and we remember Laverne and Shirley. I'm sure Shirley's hubba hubba hiney was probably made from cheese. Packers fans are known as Cheeseheads, and Happy Days are happy days when cheese is involved.

I love cheese. I love Wisconsin.

I remember those formative years, driver's education, learning to use my middle finger while driving through Milwaukee, the glory days of the 1982 Brewers Pennant, and The Milwaukee Journal's Green Sheet.

I remember those 6 foot snow drifts, playing broom hockey on the lakes, and sledding down the quarry. I remember the freak snow storms in May, and the hard-working hands of my grandmother in June, as she stooped over rows of rhubarb in the garden.

I remember living in an apartment with my mother, and how, even though she worked third shift, my sister and I would revel in using our remote control to change other people's channels in nearby buildings back when cable boxes were so new that everyone shared the same frequency. I remember tornado sirens. I remember hearing all three of my names whenever I was in trouble, or how she'd pinch me if I said the word, "fart".

I remember the morning my school counselor brought me into the office from Mr Dart's history class. When they sat me in the conference room, they told me that my mother had died in a head-on collision with a semi truck just an hour before. Her car had hit some black ice on a bridge and she lost control. I remember the article, a blanket strewn over her body, still in the warped vehicle, as news reports said she had been Christmas shopping (this wasn't true, but for ratings...). I still have the calculator that was scuffed in the wreckage, and use it to this day.

Even thirty years after learning the song at the tender age of 8, I can bellow out a rousing "On Wisconsin." And mean it.

It takes good times and bad times to root someone to a special place, a history that brings sadness and overwhelming laughter from somewhere deep in the stomach. Wisconsin, to me, is mom, Friday night Fish fries, Sussex, Rhinelander, Mr. Dart and cheese curds.

And even in those moments when I'm digging myself out of a 6" snow bank and complaining about the cold, I remember back to days spent in soaked snow bibs and moon boots in my grandmother's white-buried back yard.

As an aside, if you're ever visiting a national monument and see a car load of folks with Wisconsin plates, thrust your fist in the air and yell, "On Wisconsin!" See if they don't cheer, yell, and wave back.

If they use only one finger, you'll know they were from Milwaukee.

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Showing 1-10 of 25 comments

Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton

posted on 3/12/2008 @ 9:23:32 AM

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I had pink moon boots. But I couldn't moon walk in them. Too much rubberized traction on 80's post-shag carpet.

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Submitted By: Mike Keleman

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 1:08:38 PM

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Moon boots aaaah yes.

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Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 9:29:20 AM

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Barbara-- We Milwaukee folks don't talk much about Madison. This is generally because we're too busy making fun of folks from Chicago (in a good way, of course).

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Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 9:26:05 AM

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Fairlight-- I didn't mean to be reely. Really!

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Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 9:25:17 AM

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Sarah-- Oh, you might not blend in Milwaukee anyway if you can drive like a sane person. My husband is a very calm man. By the end of West Allis he was screaming at people and giving them the finger. He became an instant native.

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Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 9:24:19 AM

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Mick and Nikki-- I remember the Hamms ads! I used to sing along to those while I was wearing my Pabst hat and eating my beer brats...

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Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 9:23:26 AM

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Some days technology gives me a case of the rear end. I didn't realize I'd hit a switch on my new laptop which turned my internet capabilities to "off". If my same computer hadn't told me this this morning-- in addition to how to fix it-- I'd still be staring at my system and wondering where my connection went.

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Submitted By: Michael Rule

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 7:35:25 AM

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Remeber that old joke about Mill Famey, the baseball pitcher. He couldn't pitch drunk. "And that's the beer that made Mill Famey walk us......"

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Submitted By: Nikki Britain

posted on 3/11/2008 @ 5:53:05 AM

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"....comes the beer refreshing...Hamm's, the beer refreshing...Hammmmmm's...." Sorry. I'm a secret big fan of the Hamm's Beer Bear.

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Submitted By: Barbara Neff

posted on 3/10/2008 @ 5:12:09 PM

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I love Madison. I used to have lay-overs there when I was a flight attendant. Oh, the stories.

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Showing 1-10 of 25 comments

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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Jamie VanEaton

Longmont , CO

Jamie VanEaton has posted 94 blog entries and 772 comments since joining on 1/24/2007. Jamie VanEaton 's average blog rating is 4.98.

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