Deep-fried Romantic

Deep-fried Romantic: Disney buys Marvel. Why?
Deep-fried Romantic

Disney buys Marvel. Why?

In a move that shocked the worlds of business and fans alike, Disney will soon own Marvel Entertainment. Why is Mickey Mouse getting claws?

Deep-Fried Romantic: Innovations, Contrivances and Crazy Straws
Deep-Fried Romantic

Innovations, Contrivances and Crazy Straws

Nostalgia and future shock, as seen through everyday objects we buy and use. Includes a link to hundreds of drinking straw designs.

Deep-Fried Romantic: Our State Fair is a great State Fair
Deep-Fried Romantic

Our State Fair is a great State Fair

Pig races. Foods on sticks and deep-fried. Carnival rides. Beer. Was I going to write about anything else in this week's column?

Summer Travel Gallery: Dousman Derby Days State Frog Jumping Contest
Summer Travel Gallery

Dousman Derby Days State Frog Jumping Contest

The Summer Travel series continues with a brief stop to watch the 2009 Wisconsin State Frog Jumping Contest.

Deep-Fried Romantic: The Treehouse that Never Was
Deep-Fried Romantic

The Treehouse that Never Was

It started out with a simple suggestion from my sister to Dad. So far it has resulted in family debate, referencing local law books, price checks at the lumber store and a spray-painted pine.

Deep-Fried Romantic: Hitting up the drive-in this summer
Deep-Fried Romantic

Hitting up the drive-in this summer

There are still two or three great drive-in movie theaters to try out in Wisconsin, but this summer also find the loving low-culture return of the outdoor cinema party at three different Milwaukee locations. The 41 Twin is dead; long live the 41 Twin experience.

Deep-Fried Romantic: For your consideration, an ALDI flyer in June
Deep-Fried Romantic

For your consideration, an ALDI flyer in June

On the front cover, young white kids are blasting each other with water cannons attached to an 18-foot self-contained water slide. There is no sense of place like a backyard or street since the photo has been skillfully edited. The price? $199.99 each. Not bad, considering most above or in-ground pools run more than that. Four tickets to Noah's Ark in the Wisconsin Dells costs almost $150.00 (not counting transportation).

Deep-Fried Romantic: Bury Me Not …
Deep-Fried Romantic

Bury Me Not …

I want sloppy joes served at the wake. I'll allow a hymn at the service, but then I want Carl Stalling scores played. You can't prevent tears if people loved you (and I hope someone does), but play the music from a Tex Avery cartoon and force-feed them one of my mother's famous garlic dill pickles and the emotion will change.

Deep-Fried Romantic: The state of Lunch Counter and Diner Culture, 2009
Deep-Fried Romantic

The state of Lunch Counter and Diner Culture, 2009

With the collapse of the Brady Street Café (formerly Pharmacy) and the late 2007 demise of Goldmann's on Mitchell Street, I've been wondering if diner culture is near collapse in Milwaukee. Are we in danger of losing our vital ability to communicate, empathize, and nourish without bankruptcy?

Deep-Fried Romantic: Dandelions and the Persistence of Life
Deep-Fried Romantic

Dandelions and the Persistence of Life

Quite suddenly last week, there were dandelions everywhere. It was as if we were paying attention to other trivial matters when the little yellow flowers just popped into existence. They covered open fields by the thousands and small patches on city boulevards. It was the official sign that spring is here in Wisconsin, and a subconscious switch in the brain that life is still happening despite our best efforts. So let’s talk about our love/hate relationship with a bitter flower. What is considered a weed by many lawn owners, a brilliant bouquet to a child, a wine source to a few (recipe), and scientifically known as the flowering plant Taraxacum to horticulturalists often takes on a certain low-culture status when compared to roses and garlic mustard alike. Its scent is earthy, attractive only attractive to the bees. It’s an invasive species more prevalent than kudzu, yet milder and easier to get rid of, making it low on the daisy chain of pests to obliterate. But it’s also a symbol of true freedom. It can grow almost anywhere, from a bed of silt loam to a crack in the sidewalk. You can step on it, but it will keep going. It comes in only one color – joy – with intricate little petals. When the flower dies, those petals become ghostly parachutes and fly away. Its spirit is at once indomitable and transitory. There is already a canon of books devoted to ridding a prized lawn of dandelions, but there could also be a library dedicated to our sublime relationship to this temperate climate bloom, filled with philosophy and analogies to love, life, the recession, childhood, politics and so forth. What begins as a gentle and soft thing becomes sharp and brittle when aged (the origin of  ‘dandelion’  is actually from the French ‘Dents de Lion’ or ‘Lion’s Tooth’). It is everywhere, and cannot be defeated by cutting off the head. Underneath the surface of a supple, green plant structure we pull out a massive, spiraling root that has burrowed deep into the soil. It is a menace when the little white puffs blow into our eyes and over our clothes. Yet we know that this process will ensure their return and sustain the environment. The dandelion might be perceived as innocuous and trifling in the detailed scope of daily life. It is persistent, it comes back in cycles, and the petals stain the skin. The bitter greens can be used in salads, but they also have a diuretic effect. The flower once picked for mother as a sign of love will quickly wilt and smell. It is something that we are aware of once seen, but quickly forgotten once gone until we encounter them again with spring anew. So what seems like something that is beneath us – not just beneath our feet – is the ultimate persistent advertising the world has to offer. The world cannot reason with us, but it can make us feel.

Deep-Fried Romantic: The EPIC FAIL of MySpace (and why Facebook is next)
Deep-Fried Romantic

The EPIC FAIL of MySpace (and why Facebook is next)

As users of Facebook.com "vote" for a bill of rights and the founders of MySpace starting turning a foot towards the door, some thoughts about how low-culture and not 'the nightclub' analogy is to blame for social networking sites downfalls

Deep-fried Romantic: The Great Elvis Cake Experiment
Deep-fried Romantic

The Great Elvis Cake Experiment

A little while ago, after a jaunt down State Street in Madison just to see if it was what I remembered from my youth (the answer: yes and no. Remember Brady Street ten years ago? Yeah. Close your eyes, think about it, then open them while standing outside Hi Hat. Same feeling), I drove over to another section of town to look up an old friend who worked at the Harmony Bar and Grill. A few blocks away was a charming strip (think Downer Ave. without the new-found pretense) with a place called ‘the Blue Plate Diner’. It was a hopping joint, emulating a working-class eatery experience with higher prices. To give it credit, the Blue Plate ambience was exactly what it advertised – albeit with a slightly fancier menu fare. We have come to expect Denny’s or George Webb when it comes to the diner experience; it’s food without thought. So to receive a menu item of a known food and then find it slightly more gourmet was a bit alarming. After a sumptuous bratwurst platter, I was ready for dessert before driving home for two hours. It didn’t help matters that the brightly-lit cabinet was positioned right in front of my counter stool. After asking about the choices, I picked the obvious: the Elvis Cake. It was a tight four-layer banana cake with peanut-butter frosting between layers, cloaked in chocolate icing. The cake was artery-clogging, and for once it was a dessert I couldn’t finish. But when the manager asked me how it was, I told him it missed something: bacon. There’s been a sort of renaissance of sorts lately when it comes to bacon. The online “cool kids” fetishize the meaty strip into ridiculous heights of fancy (see: bacon bra, bacon dinosaur egg, bacon AK-47, pig wrapped in bacon, Jim Gaffigan’s routines, etc). Certain venues (see: the Comet Coffeehouse) and cooking sites (see: Epicurious) brought the use of bacon to a higher art form – away from the forbidden meat of religious and dietary scorn – into the fray as a major force of culinary delight. Bacon (or its cousin, prosciutto) can be wrapped around or inserted into melon, shrimp, water chestnuts, meatloaf, potato, and just about anything to make it smoky and salty. So why is it so commonly left out of the lore of Elvis Presley’s favorite sandwich? Even the postcards at Graceland assert his favorite sandwich is the grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich. You want the recipe? Here: slather butter on one side of two slices of bread. Slather one piece on opposite side with peanut butter, the other slice with mushy bananas. Join. Grill over medium-high heat in frying pan and carefully flip after less than two minutes to fry the other side. To make it perfect, add cooked bacon before joining slices. What we loved about Elvis’s eating habits is that they were so low culture. He was singing royalty that acted just like us. The most famous story involving a sandwich and the king involved the Fool’s Gold Loaf: while […]