Before last week, my experience in the Midwest consisted only of a smattering of layovers at Chicago O’Hare and Minneapolis. But then my good friend Alia decided to have her wedding in Milwaukee in January. After a relaxing two weeks in Hawaii, I flew back to DC to collect my wedding duds before heading westward again (but only fell back by one time zone instead of six).
I’ve always wanted to visit Wisconsin, mainly because I have a great uncle who moved there from Hawaii for college and stayed. He married his college sweetheart, Cathy, and opened a Chinese restaurant in Milwaukee. Because of this uncle, Walter, I generally tend to think of Milwaukee over Madison whenever I am reminded of Wisconsin’s existence. (Wisconsin? Oh, yes, that’s where Milwaukee is.”)
But don’t mistake me for the typical East- or West-Coastie, who, though hailing from north Jersey or Los Angeles, habitually and casually lobs snide remarks at the Heartland. I was once one of these people; Hawaii folk are generally among the nicest you can find anywhere, but can be quite snooty when it comes to place of residence. I don’t know. I guess living in an unobviously pleasant place like Anchorage can make you impatient with people who all but force you into being an apologist for your beloved city.
Descriptions of Milwaukee from friends ranged from “a bombed-out shell of an American city” to “really nice.” Maybe the dressing of snow helped (snow is nature’s airbrush, after all), but I thought it was charming. Industrial chic is all the rage there as old factory buildings–tanneries and such–are being converted into funky urban spaces. We stayed in one such place, the Iron Horse hotel, about a block from the Harley-Davidson Museum. One regret is that I didn’t get to the Warhol exhibit at the Milwaukee Art Museum, which overlooks Lake Michigan.
Instead, I went cross-country skiing on the Whitnall golf course with my friend, Kelly, and the aforementioned Aunty Cathy (who, I quickly discovered, is one of my sweetest, most fun relatives). I hadn’t skied for at least 18 months and it felt like showering for the first time after going double-digit days without any form of bathtime. But 100 times better.
I visited Milwaukee a bunch of times when I was in law school at the University of Wisconsin. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of my hometown of Buffalo. It has a lot in common with those other ‘rust belt’ cities – there aren’t a lot of good jobs there anymore, but there are a lot of gorgeous homes and old buildings, because it was once a prosperous city, and, if you are lucky enough to have a good job in a city like that, you can live really well – much better, in my opinion, than all but the wealthiest people in larger cities like New York or L.A.