Heeeeeey...get outta my town.

I took my in-laws on a Sunday stroll along Milwaukee's waterfront to visit the bronzed Fonz. Sara and Zoe and I played a pivotal role in the dedication of this statue, by way of showing up for the dedication. That was a year and a half ago, and Henry Winkler's brazen likeness has yet to grow to the size we were all expecting it to be. Is anyone else a little creeped out by the bronze blue jeans? Sara and I are yet to regret the hours waiting in line to meet the entire cast of Happy Days on that afternoon when the Fonz statue was unsheathed. That was truly the most magical of all Milwaukee moments.

This final walk along the river was sorta strange for us. It was early evening and downtown Milwaukee was completely dead. Not a soul was promenading with us along the banks, as they usually do. Comparing this rural experience with those we had in Chicago twice that same week, was like comparing an evening with Aunt Thelma's Bunco club to the 1 a.m. mosh pit at Death Metal Jam 2010. It seems the candle had reached the end of its wick for our time in Milwaukee and we left downtown for the last time in sort of a quiet state. It wasn't like we needed any sign whatsoever that leaving Milwaukee was the right choice for us, but it really felt like the city had pressed the pause button on us, and the next step was to walk out of the scene while the Fonz gave us the thumbs up. During those first few years in the area, going downtown was a thrill, but this time it was kind of a bummer, which certainly made it easier to head westward for hundreds of miles on I-90. But before we could leave town, we had another day-full of shoving possessions into boxes and cheering for the Brewers.