The Shirtless Guy Theory

Since I have been here in Milwaukee for a month now, I have developed a theory and so far it has proven to be correct.
Here is the theory: I cannot go one day without seeing an out-of-shape white guy with his shirt off. They have no shame here. Hell, I even see them in billboard advertisements on 94. There is a sense of pride I guess in showing off your pale, paunchy bratwurst repository. You have to love it. There must be some sort of post-adolescent rite of passage here I'll never know about.
Regardless, you will frequently find a shirtless guy count on many of my posts, especially if I am writing about a festival I've been to. Who knows, there may even be a picture or two.

Polish Fest

Really, the festivals in Milwaukee are quite similar. They all involve the over-consumption of quality beer and some sort of sausage. Everything else is just a variation of the theme. This time it was me throwing my arms around an old Polish couple in their 70's and having a laugh while waiting in the Kielbasa line. I got a Polish plate, cheese pierogies, a 3/4 pound, 16-inch kielbasa served with 6 ounces of sauerkraut nestled in a one-pound loaf of bread sliced down the middle. Holy schnikes, I am going to gain a LOT of weight around here.

As I ate the best pierogie I ever had, I listened to the sound of 6 competing polka bands playing over each other and watched all of the out-of-shape, shirtless white guys milling around with Miller High Life in plastic cups. I started a shirtless guy count. Today it stood at 23. This simple, blue-collar midwest thing they have going is exactly what I love.

It's like my father-in-law said a week earlier as we went in to Turners on a Fish Fry Friday: "Jesus, it's like I walked into a Pieter Bruegel painting." I couldn't have described it better. These descendants from German, Belgium and Flemish immigrants were simply doing what their ancestors had done for hundreds of years: celebrating something or other with friends, family, hearty food and much drink. The whole place reeks of old-world Germany.

Right then I decided I had moved to the coolest place I could move to.
I knew it when we approached the gates to pay our admission and the guy behind the glass said, "Ah, take a couple of bucks off. The kid gets in free. Tell the guy at the gate that Johnny says it's o.k."

Milwaukee.