If you remember that commercial, you are one of the chosen. Just saying.
PDaughter and I are going to stay with my parents in suburban Milwaukee in the days leading up to Thanksgiving. We'll actually be back in Texas for Thanksgiving, because it happens to be PDaughter's 17th birthday, and she wants to be...home. And as hard as it is for me to understand the concept of Texas being home, I totally get it.
We all just want to be home.
The places I lived.
The schools I attended.
The neighborhoods I walked.
I can't wait to see friends and family I haven't seen in ages. I can't wait for them to meet her.
|I really hope they don't look like this.|
I want to see (and show) the South Side, the East Side, Downtown. I want to visit South Milwaukee, where my Daddy grew up and where I spent my earliest years. I want to visit Bay View, and the Third Ward, and Marquette University, where her father got his Master's degree. I want us to hang out at the lakefront and take a picture in front of the Fonzie statue.
|A picture with the Fonzie statue is all I want, tbh.|
I want to have Mama Mia's pizza, or maybe a George Webb burger. I want to find out what happened to all the people in Bay View High School's class of 1985/1986. I want to drive past the Oriental Theatre.
I'm old, you guys, and these things are my youth.
I know that some of my Milwaukee peeps read this blog. I know that others don't, but are Facebook friends with those who do.
To all: I would love to see you, and give you a hug, and laugh about how freaking old we've gotten.
My visit next month will make one hell of a blog post.
Help me make it one hell of a visit.
Three weeks from tomorrow, you guys.
Be there with me. OK?