(mid-October 2022)
I have a couple two tree family members who are fans of Bertrand Russell. In fact, they are (or were) members of The Bertrand Russell Society. I have no idea what this organization does. Perhaps members talk about logic and promote pacifism.
The above bird is Professor Yaffle from a BBC children’s show called Bagpuss from 1974. He was based on the Welsh mathematician & philosopher supposedly because one of the show’s creators had met Russell once.
There’s your bit of daily trivia.
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Meanwhile, back in Milwaukee...
As the Frau napped, I strolled to the south back into the Walkers Point neighborhood.
I crossed over the Menomonee River just as the Amtrak Hiawatha was approaching the station.
Sadly, it would not be continuing on to Madison. With the depot a mere block from our hotel, it would have been extremely convenient.
Also at this very spot was a fine ghost sign.
The Milwaukee Cold Storage Company building was erected in the 1890s to store produce, dairy, and meat. The walls are 2 feet thick and it was apparently quite the marvel of food storage and preservation in its day.
Just down the street was this one.
With its lengthy industrial past, Milwaukee is no doubt a treasure trove of ghost signs.
My destination was the National Bobblehead Hall of Fame and Museum. It was devised back in 2014 by Brad Novak and Phil Sklar after the former’s bobblehead collecting habit got completely out of control. The collection's current home opened in 2019 after years of planning and fundraising.
The museum’s website claims that it’s the only one in the world dedicated to bobbleheads and I believe it. It boasts owning somewhere in the neighborhood of 10,000 bobbleheads of athletes, celebrities, politicians, musicians, breakfast cereal mascots, and so on. Any figure with even just a modicum of public recognition or a brief flirtation with having cultural cachet is game for a having a model of them built with a wobbly, over-sized head.
Just across the street from the museum I ran into this crate of free firewood, slightly used.
The museum was upstairs.
I walked up the stairs behind a couple also eager to get their fill of bobbleheads to a glass door and glass walls behind which are shelves full of the wobbly figures. After paying a $5 entry fee, we were led to a TV where we watched a short introduction by the museum’s founders that explained how the place came about. With that being done, we were left to wander the copiously lined shelves with bobbleheads of all sorts arranged, more or less, by the occupation of the figures.
For instance, there were U.S. presidents.
Also to be found were some of this century’s greatest monsters.
One shelf was mainly populated with mammy figures and featured a book explaining the stereotype.
Musicians featured prominently and there was a Jimi Hendrix figure that was in excess of 2 feet tall. It featured the great guitarist as seen at Woodstock.
I was pleased to discover the figures of one of my favorite bands, Rush, looking like they did in the late 70s. Geddy Lee has the kimono and he and Alex both clutch double-neck guitars and so it looks like they are ready to rip into "Xanadu".
On a less Canadian and more local note, there was one of Wisconsin’s most famous cryptozoological specimens, the hodag.
Perhaps my favorite is this one of a xenomorph from the Aliens movies.
I really wanted to tap it to get the head wobbling but you’re not allowed to touch the exhibits. Older and, presumably, more valuable bobbleheads were all behind glass such as the set of The Beatles which I presume dated back to the height of Beatlemania in the mid-1960s.
There were tons and tons of athletes, most of whom were completely unknown to me. They were joined by historical figures of all kinds, breakfast cereal mascots, actors & actresses – just about any kind of historical or pop culture icon was there.
It is well worth your time to stop in at the National Bobblehead Hall of Fame and Museum. There’s the sheer novelty and guaranteed moments of “I can’t believe they made a bobblehead out of that!” I left the museum and slowly walked back to the hotel taking pictures of ghost signs and anything else that caught my fancy along the way.
After a little time to freshen up, my Frau and I headed out to meet company for dinner. We were to be joined by a friend whom I have known since high school, along with her husband and daughter. It had been 6 or so years since we’d seen each other and so we were looking forward to spending some time with them once more.
We met them on the street as we were walking to our destination, LuLu Café & Bar in Bay View, not too far from their place. They've lived in the south side neighborhood for 20+ years and have witnessed it shed much of its working class reputation and become more gentrified and a destination for younger, trendier types. At least, that's my understanding of Bay View. It's a large neighborhood so I am sure some areas have attracted more Creative Class types than others.
Many Poles settled in Milwaukee's south side but I am not sure if Bay View was heavily Polish back in the day or not. Today, it seems that Polish stores, churches, and parks named after Polish heroes of the American Revolutionary War are west of Bay View. I suppose the construction of I94, which bisects this area, had a hand in the changing character of the neighborhood.
Bay View is notable for being the site of the Bay View Tragedy. On 5 May 1886, employees from the local iron mill - mainly Polish - went on strike demanding an eight hour workday. They were fired upon by the National Guard and 7 workers were killed.
The food at LuLu was quite tasty and the company exquisite. My friends' daughter had grown into a young woman since we last saw her. A junior in high school, she was contemplating college, and had her driver’s license. Time had flown!
After dinner we bid adieu to the youth, who had plans with a friend, and the 4 of us had some post-prandial beers at the nearby Sugar Maple, a bar that boasts 60 beer taps. Upon leaving we decided that we weren’t quite ready to part ways and so we headed over to my friends' favorite bar, The Black Bird.
The Black Bird is a wonderful place with its lovely wooden bar, mood lighting, and pinball machines. It just has a nice neighborhood bar vibe. Nothing pretentious. We chatted away until it was truly time to go.
We parted company after some most welcome hugs, vowing that we would not let 6 years go by before we saw one another again.
By this time my Frau had developed a wee appetite and expressed a desire for a final nightcap. After parking the car at the hotel, it was a short walk to Explorium Brewpub, a mere block away.
We cozied up to the bar to order beers and I discovered that my new pet peeve is when places don’t have paper menus. Instead, patrons are expected to scan a QR code and read an electronic menu. I don’t know if the person who came up with this idea had 20/20 vision or was simply keen on saving money, customers with less than perfect eyesight be damned. Personally, I find no joy reading a menu with tiny letters on the small screen of a phone.
But I muddled through this indignity and we ordered beers. The Frau threw in a couple snacks as well including an order of roasted Brussels sprouts which surprised us when it was served as it must have been 5 pounds of the stuff. Tasty but that’s enough fiber to fell a horse!
I ordered 2 small pours, one each of their rye beers. I love rye and it finds its way into beer all too infrequently.
On the left is Red Rye'dr, a delicious rye ale and on the right is Rye'd the Hemp, a rye lager brewed with toasted hemp seeds. It too was excellent.
While our beer glasses had been emptied, we had to be satisfied with merely making a big dent in the Brussels sprouts. Our bellies were full as we trekked back to the hotel.
We took our time the next morning in preparing to head home. It was a mutual decision to find breakfast somewhere outside of the city. The Frau found a Cajun restaurant online in Delafield called Fishbone’s which sounded good to us and almost immediately "Party at Ground Zero" popped into my head.
The place has a nice view of Nagawicka Lake just across the street.
Since "Nagawicka" sounded like a Native American word or a corruption of one, I was rather curious as to why the lake was called "Nagawicka Lake" instead of "Lake Nagawicka". I am used to lakes with a Native American name having that word come second. Ones with an English name seem to always have it come first. And so you get Mud Lake and Green Lake on the one hand, and Lake Monona and Lake Mendota on the other. Very odd, this Nagawicka Lake.
I wasn’t expecting anything above average at a Cajun joint tucked away in a Milwaukee exurb but I was pleasantly surprised.
The andouille sausage was quite toothsome and the red beans & rice was great. A little smoky, a lot of starchy, and a touch of spice. A wonderful way to end our long weekend.
For me, it was the first of 3.
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Bonus photo. This is the robot that wanders the aisles of my local supermarket. It is slightly disturbing to turn the corner and run into it. I always silently hope that it’s been programmed with the Three Laws of Robotics.
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