This Little Piggy
I regret to inform you all that I am now officially a Flatlander after 16 years. You know have succumbed to the power or the prairie when the highlight of your Memorial Day weekend is going to the Coliseum to stand in line in the blazing sun with a hundred thousand of your closest friends to eat pulverized pork in a tube smothered in sauerkraut and onions. Yes, boys and girls, it's BratFest weekend.
Our good friends Tom and Donna called us up this morning and asked us to go with them so off we went. We parked about two states over and hiked in to the festival on the 90 degree humidity. By the time we got there, they had sold 131,000 brats and were gunning for 200,000 before the weekend was over to beat the world record. There were 20 industrial-sized grills on the back of a flatbed and the Johnsonville Brat company's huge trailer truck grill. Humanity of every size and description was wandering around with mustard on their chins.
I can't eat brats. One bite and this little piggy goes wee wee wee all the way to the nearest porta pottie, but they were going to make Boca brats this year, which I was itching to try, but they were gone by the time I got there. Never underestimate the hunger of vegetarians and people with gastric problems! So I had a hot dog with mustard and my companions each had a couple of brats with the works. We did a lot of people watching. I love a good hot day so you can see the tattoos in all of their glory. My favorite t-shirt said 'Keep staring, I might do a trick...'. I did, she didn't.
We had a spot of ice cream and meandered on back to the car before we were fallen by heat stroke, but it was fun and I enjoyed it a lot. Does this mean I'm now officially 'from away'? Do I have to turn in my Yankee membership card?