The Midwest
By I’ll be hanging out in various quadrants of the midwest for the next two weeks, so blogging on my end will be mercifully sporadic. I lived for many years in this part of the world during graduate school, and my wife’s family hails from Illinois and Wisconsin; I absolutely love it out here, and I would gladly spend the rest of my days in any of the midwest’s fine states.
Having said that — and recognizing that the unique pathologies of American culture are sown broadly — I feel bound to suggest that something is deeply wrong with a region that could play host to a restaurant that boasts “All You Can Eat French Toast” and “Squeaky Fresh Cheese Curds.” We didn’t stop there, because I am not quite ready for the gray embrace of death. We did, however, enjoy an excellent roadside meal at Beefaroo, whose teenage workers didn’t seem to take seriously my recommendation that they change their restaurant’s name to something less, you know, awful.