West Side Stories

There’s a brief but interesting discussion on the Tosa Town Square about watching fireworks on TV. This is something that fascinates me, for no good reason except that I have a strong opinion on the topic.

Here’s the thing: I love fireworks. I love TV. (Sad, but true.) So, you would think that combining two of my favorite things would make a new thing that I would like even better. Not so much.

I believe that fireworks should never be shown on TV. Never. They just don’t work. To me, fireworks on TV seem like a great idea. You don’t have to battle crowds, look for a spot to sit, or soak yourself in bug spray.* You can sit in your comfy, perhaps air-conditioned, house and enjoy the show.

The thing is, there’s nothing less-fulfilling than watching fireworks on TV. Except perhaps watching taped Olympics coverage when you know the results. (Don’t worry. I’ll get on that soapbox later in the summer.) I have no interest in what Mike and Carol think about the fireworks. Zero. In fact, they annoy me to no end.

To truly enjoy a fireworks show, you have to earn it. You have to search for parking. You have to lug and carry stuff until you’re sweating. You have to try to get comfortable. And then, hardest of all, you have to wait. And if you have young children, you have to listen to the endless questions and whiny cries: “What time is it?” “When will they start?” “I’m bored!” “I have to go to the bathroom.”

But when the fireworks start…when you feel that first gigantic percussion resonate in your chest…it’s so worthwhile.

And I agree with the citizens on the Town Square. Skip the music, unless by music you mean the chorus of “oohs” and “ahhs” that you can’t avoid joining in on.

While I have your ear, let’s talk a little fireworks etiquette:

(1) Leave Fido at home. I’ve seen far too many cowering, trembling pooches at the Tosa fireworks every year. The dogs do not look happy and their owners are clearly not enjoying themselves.

(2) Leave the sparklers at home. Sparklers in your backyard – good idea. Sparklers in a giant crowd of people – very bad idea.

(3) Unless you’re joining in the Oohs and Ahhs Chorus, please don’t talk over my fireworks. It’s only about 30 minutes. Feel free to chat before or after. Definitely not during.

(4) Wait to leave or be nice. The crowds are going to be HUGE. You may as well take your time leaving or accept that it will take you a while. Honking or getting irritated adds nothing to the equation.

Here’s wishing everyone a Happy and SAFE 4^th of July! See you at the fireworks!

*In my last post, I talked about the shortage of bug spray at local stores. A visit yesterday to the Walgreens at Hwy 100 and North Ave. proved me totally wrong. They had lots of bug spray. Just in time for the fireworks!

Pssst. Hey - yeah, you. Wanna buy a can of bug spray?

Remember last winter? Who doesn’t?! That endless icy blast of Mother Nature that coated our sidewalks and front steps with potential lawsuits. Back then, the toughest find in Tosa was salt (or ice melter.) No matter who you talked to, conversations always came around to: “So, do you know where I can buy some salt?” Neighbors would call each other with hot tips on a bag or two of calcium chloride.

Fast forward to today and there appear to be a couple of items that are really tough finds here in Tosa. One is weather-related and one is not.

Thanks to the torrential rains of June, our alternate state bird, the mosquito, has overtaken Wisconsin. I’ve been to two outdoor parties recently and the most common activity at both was the slap dance. You know the one where you jump around and hit yourself while trying to have a social conversation? It’s fun…and annoying!

Well, if you haven’t already stocked up, mosquito repellant is virtually impossible to find. Target on 124^th and Capitol was completely out. Not a can to be found. Walgreens was down to its last two cans – seriously. You’re going to have to score one in a back alley somewhere…or find a friend who will share.

Another hard-to-find item is the newest game for the Nintendo Wii – Wii Fit. This hot new exercise game is getting rave reviews for combining fun and fitness. I love fun, but I’m not so big on fitness, so anything that will combine the two is a winner in my book.

The problem is, there isn’t a Wii Fit to be found. Ask at any local electronics retailer and you’ll get an eye roll and a shake of the head. This morning, Target was advertising the game in its Sunday paper insert. My husband and I arrived at 9:00 am. “Sorry, we’ve been sold out since 8:10.” Oh well.

So, I’ve been checking Craig’s List and bidding on eBay, but it doesn’t look like we’ll be Wii Fitting anytime soon.

As far as the bug spray, well, my daughter just returned from her trip to Appalachia with a couple of extra cans. Hmmm….think I can put those up for sale on Craig’s List?

Teens these days. They’re so, so, so…willing to sacrifice their time and comfort and….gasp...even their cell phones to do something for other people.

Wait…what?! Right now you’re wondering if I’m serious, right? Believe it or not, I am.

Saturday morning, at the crack of dawn, more than 50 teens and 15 adult leaders from three Wauwatosa churches gathered in the drizzle at St. Pius XI parish. They loaded gear into a fleet of full-size vans and prepared to drive to Kentucky where they will build and repair homes for some of the poorest people living in the Appalachian Mountains. (Later this summer, other groups will venture to South Dakota and Milwaukee’s inner city to do similar work.)

I have heard about The Appalachian Service Project (ASP) for many years. It seems that every teen or adult that has ever gone on this trip has had nothing but great things to say about the experience. This year, my daughter joined the group, as did WauwatosaNOW’s own blogger, Maddie McLennon.

I find it pretty impressive that so many teens would give up an entire week of their hard-earned summer to work really hard for someone they don’t know and then sleep on an air mattress in an un-air-conditioned facility. Talk about going outside your comfort zone!

Thinking back on my own teen summers, I’m embarrassed to admit that they were largely self-serving, unless my mom finally guilted me into doing something worthwhile. Suffice it to say that I never did anything remotely resembling service to others. I’m pretty proud that my daughter didn’t follow in my footsteps.

As a parent, it seems very strange to be out of touch with my daughter for an entire week. (Cell phones are not allowed on the trip, nor would they likely get reception in such a remote area.) Today, we usually have instant access to our kids wherever they go. The idea that I can’t check in on my daughter is a little unnerving…but also somewhat liberating.

Maybe this experience changes parents as well as teens. Maybe it was time for us to let go a little and see just exactly what our children are capable of doing on their own.

I can’t wait to hear my daughter’s stories and hope that Maddie will also share some with all of us in her next blogpost. If you think of it, say a prayer for safe travels and a meaningful experience for all involved.

I recently visited the brand spanking-new “Intermodal” (i.e. Amtrak/Greyhound) Station in downtown Milwaukee. I was pretty excited when I heard about the renovation because the old station was, um, a dump. I have to say, the remodeling was a success. The place looks gorgeous, with its floor to ceiling windows.

So today, I read this story about how the city is fighting to get a decent restaurant next door, but thus far, the only takers are a couple of fast-food joints. Even Milwaukee Mayor Tom Barrett said “we can do better.”

I agree with Mayor Barrett…sort of.

I think they should look for something better than Dunkin’ Donuts and subs. But, before they look at adding fine dining, they might want to do one simple thing: Look up.

In my opinion, there’s a huge problem developing at the Intermodal Station that gives a worse impression than the smell of fried food. The flocks of circling birds are using the gigantic windows for, shall we say, target practice. That’s right, the first thing you notice about the beautiful new station is the windows and the next thing you notice is that they’re covered in bird poop. In fact, they look like....you-know-what.

And so I ask: Somewhere in that $15.8 million renovation, did anybody put in a few dollars for window washing? Because I don’t know about you, but the sight of bird-droppings doesn’t make me hungry for anything.

Sometimes, you’re just in the right place at the right time. That is exactly how I’m feeling  about summer in Tosa. Look around you and there are some awesome dining experiences just waiting to make summer in our town better than ever.

We’ll start out west. There’s Locker’s Pointe on 92^nd and North, where you can sit on chairs reminiscent of the UW patio and sip Alterra coffee or grab a scoop of Locker's gelato. Up the street, there’s City Market where the patio is packed on a typical Saturday or Sunday morning.

Down in the village, things are really getting fun. Of course there’s Vino 100 where you can sit outside on one of the most charming patios around, sipping wine and, on Thursday nights, listening to live music.

Around the corner, you can try outdoor dining at Bartolotta’s, which is decidedly casual and great for people-watching. (Oh and the food’s not bad either!)

Now, for something new: Pizzeria Piccola is about to open Piccola al Fresco – a picture-perfect spot for eating their delicious wood-fired pizza outside under the stars. Have you seen it? If not, take a peek, it’s quaint and inviting and will likely be packed on a warm summer night.

Last but not least, there’s La Reve, the brand new patisserie and café that looks absolutely adorable! Despite the recent closing of Drew’s (a moment of silence, please), Harwood Avenue has been poised to become the destination gem of the village. The one-of-a-kind shops like Jilly and George, Urban Laundry and Oro di Oliva have been waiting for their moment in the sun. I think La Reve will bring that day from the moment that it opens. (Not sure when that is, but it looks like soon!) The two-story dining establishment has the look of a real winner and the opportunity to lure diners and shoppers from all over Milwaukee.

With gas prices well over $4 per gallon, there’s no better time than now to plan your summer days out right here in our fair village. For those of us within walking distance of these great new places, summer just got a little bit better.

“Uh oh. I sense a new blogpost coming,” said my husband during a recent dinner out.

And although I denied it as we were dining at Tazza Pizzeria – Pizza at the Cup, I couldn’t help but consider the possibility. And so, here I am, writing about Tazzo and another “nearly” Tosa dining spot.

First Tazza. I have a confession, I miss The Milwaukee Coffee Company, the former identity of that tiny retail front at 50^th and Vliet. The food, the coffee and the artsy metallic interior were very hip. Plus, it all fit with the infamous giant cup that is perched on the roof. Alas, they went away and were replaced by a bagel restaurant and then some non-descript sandwich place.

Now, it’s Tazza. They’ve completely redone the interior with cute and clever pizza symbols. (Don't worry, the cup is still there.) The front window, which can open in nice weather, sits behind a tiny outdoor eating area. With Wick Park directly across the street, this place should be bustling.

The pizza is quite good. Not amazing, but definitely worth the trip. The salad was quite fresh - better than average. The meatball sandwich was gigantic and very tasty. The beer selection is pretty good and each table offers a bottle of wine. They also offer delivery in an adorable three-wheeled vehicle that probably stops traffic…and saves gas.

Just up the street, Meritage, across from The Times Theatre has generated lots of buzz since it opened last year. When my husband and I first tried it, just weeks after its opening, we walked in without reservations and practically had the place to ourselves. Now, you would be hard-pressed to have that kind of luck. Meritage has arrived, and for good reason. On a Friday night, the place was packed and we saw a couple of walk-ins turned away. Too bad for them.

Meritage features both seasonal and locally grown dishes that are both creative and tasty. The menu changes regularly and the wine list is terrific. And, even better, on a very busy night, the service was absolutely excellent. A night at Meritage is reasonably priced and certainly worthwhile for a special evening out.

Although neither Tazza nor Meritage are Tosa businesses, I still think it’s in our best interest that they are successful. Judging by our recent visits, the future looks bright.

So...I know this college kid from Tosa. And he’s doing a project this summer. No, he’s not painting the house or fixing a car. He’s creating a musical.

That’s right. I said a musical. And to do it, he’s writing and recording one song a day for 40 days. He wants you to come along on this tuneful journey. Bookmark his website and get a front row seat to this local creation. You can comment or maybe even give him some ideas. I’m in…are you?

OK, full disclosure. I know this kid really well. I still think it’s worth checking in on his progress. It could be fun…..

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to see Lisa Ling speak as part of the Journal Sentinel’s Smart Talk Series at the Marcus Center. My season tickets to the series are an annual gift to myself. It’s a great excuse to create a girls’ night out with a friend – dinner, followed by an interesting talk by a prominent and/or successful woman. (I’ll explain later why this will be my last year as a subscriber.)

I’ve always been a fan of Lisa Ling. Her down-to-earth journalistic style is a far cry from the overly dramatic and sensationalistic methods used by other reporters. To me, she’s always seemed like someone you could sit down and talk to, without feeling intimidated.

In her talk, Ling made a comment that resonated with me. She talked about the deterioration of television news and how little “real” news is really being reported. Newscasts filled with stories about Brittany and Anna Nicole and Paris Hilton. With the proliferation of all-news networks, that should be no surprise. It’s virtually impossible for networks such as CNN, MSNBC and Fox News to fill their broadcasts, without adding “filler” – opinions spouted by so-called experts, reports on everyday dangers and puff pieces that are basically just gossip.

For me, this is especially true with our local news broadcasts. At the risk of biting the hand that hosts my blog, Channel 4 (owned by Journal Communications) is the worst offender. This week, their big news promotion is “The Meat We Eat,” a behind-the-scenes expose on meat gone bad. They seem to have made a conscious decision to gear their newscasts to the sensational and the scary.  Their “local news” is nothing more than investigative reporting gone over-the-top. No wonder Mike Gousha left.

This is exactly why I made the decision long ago to stop watching television news. It used to be a habit to turn on the 10:00 pm news before I’d nod off to sleep. Night after night, our local television journalists would alarm, scare and depress me before I fell asleep. It did absolutely nothing for my daily attitude.

And so I stopped – cold turkey. If I need to flip on the TV before I go to bed, it’s The Daily Show. Nothing ends the day better than a chuckle over faux news. Unless there truly is a big story on the news, I don’t miss it a bit.

I’m now a habitual daily newspaper reader. I love starting out the day by reading a well-written story. Sure, the Journal Sentinel covers many of the same stories that I might see on the news, but there’s so much more. And nobody is shouting at me, making idle chit-chat or adding a dose of dramatic music to the news. It’s all there. And I can choose to skip the filler.

And, no, I don’t agree with everything the Journal Sentinel covers or their editorial stance. But I prefer my news written, not stirred. I think I get that from our daily paper.

Back to the Smart Talk Series. They’re losing me as a subscriber because like local TV news, the series has become a bloated series of talking heads. I pay for my tickets. And yet, time after time, they insist on parading corporate vice-president after corporate vice-president past us to “introduce” the speaker. And we’re supposed to applaud for each of them after their little introductions. Seriously? It takes THREE vice-presidents to introduce one speaker? I’m not dumb, I know it’s marketing. But we’re getting less speaker and more vice-president. The speakers only talk for 45 minutes, max. Then there’s a question and answer period. They ask for questions from the audience, but the moderator generally has her own agenda and her own questions. To me, it’s not a great buy for my entertainment dollars. Too bad, it was a great idea.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms, grandmas, aunts, godmothers and special women in all of our lives!

Well, the dessert gods must have been listening to our dear, sweet Maddie. Gelato, my dear, is everywhere lately.

I too have gelato at the top of my Italian memories. One dish, in particular, stands out. It was called “Death by Chocolate” and it was consumed in the beautiful Piazza Navona in Rome. That memory is now filed in my mind as my “happy place.” I visited that happy place several times during our very long, record-breaking winter.

Anyway, back to Tosa and surrounding ‘burbs.

It started at Pizzeria Piccola where they offered us authentic Italian from start to finish. Although most go there for the delicious wood-fired pizza, you can also get a scoop of gelato. I have to confess that I haven’t yet tried Piccola’s gelato, but if it’s anything close to their other offerings, I’m betting that it’s worthwhile.

Then came Chocolaterie Stam on the corner of 92^nd and North. They make their own gelato, along with their tres elegante bon bons. It looks beautiful, but I have to say, after trying it twice, the Stam gelato is somewhat disappointing. It’s missing the dense, creaminess and high-fat (and delicious!) taste of true Italian gelato. (Perhaps because it’s not Italian?) For the money, Baskin Robbins plain old ice-cream is tastier.

If those choices aren’t enough, you can battle the soon-to-come traffic headaches on Bluemound Road and head over to Brookfield Square where Paciugo Gelato has opened its doors right next to Bravo! Italian Cucina. They offer true diet-busting gelato. The gal behind the counter told us that a small cup will add a mere 250 calories to your daily intake. But if you want to cut back, they offer a sorbet version that’s only about 150.

And, if you really don’t mind a little extra mileage on your car, a trip to Waukesha’s Divino Gelato is definitely worth the trip! This quaint shop in the center of downtown Waukesha gets packed in the middle of summer, but you won't mind once you taste the gelato.

Last, but not least, this just in: The former Loge’s Bakery near the corner of 60^th and Vliet will soon be home to still another gelato establishment! With the Times Theater just steps away, I’m betting this business will be instantly successful. I just hope they don’t skimp on the calories when they mix up their gelato.

You know what they say – Molto bene!

I’ve seen this topic on the Town Square a while back, but we’re now facing it head-on in our house. I’m going on record and saying that I really, really, really dislike the new Time Warner “Navigator” on-screen system.

For those of you that don’t have digital cable, Navigator is the on-screen listing and DVR guide that was recently “upgraded.” Prior to this supposed upgrade, our on-screen TV Guide and the DVR Guide worked great. I had no complaints with it at all. A quick internet search yielded no reason for Time Warner to make the change.

In our house, we have more than one digital box. Despite several mailings from Time Warner announcing the change, Navigator showed up on each box weeks apart. Every time it happened (sort of like the cable fairy sneaking in at night), we grumbled.

Fortunately, the HD DVR was last. I held out hope that the cable fairy might leave that box alone. Alas, it was not to be. We turned on the TV last night and there was Navigator in all of its complicated glory.

To be fair, there is one thing I like about Navigator. It tells you how much room you have on your DVR. That’s it – that’s the list.

Nothing and I mean nothing about Navigator is better than the old system. It’s slower than the grand old days of getting up, walking to the TV and changing the channel. Despite the fact that I probably suffer from middle-age vision deterioration, it’s really hard to see. The on-screen type is SMALL and therefore virtually impossible to read across the room. Can I sit closer to see it better? Sure, but my Mom told me I’d hurt my eyes if I did that. Mom is always right.

Looking for a show to record? Good luck. Although I found shows when searching, the process of selecting them for a season pass is sort of like a maddening shell game. Now you see it, now you don’t.

Here’s the other new “feature.” It doesn’t automatically delete shows that are older. It simply doesn’t record new ones if there isn’t room on the DVR. Grrr….

Sure, they sent out mailings with intricate instructions. I started reading them and dozed off several times. Why should I have to “study” something I didn’t ask for in the first place?!

The good news is I felt a little better when I read Tim Cuprisin’s April 4^th column and blog on this topic. I’m not alone in my extreme dislike of Navigator. The bad news is, Time Warner is apparently crossing its arms and standing firm. Gee thanks for the customer service, folks.

I guess I don’t have a choice in the matter. Navigator is here to stay. But I’m telling you, if I miss the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy, I’m going to be McSteamed!

The other day, I had the good fortune to hear about some new books from two representatives of Harry W. Schwartz Bookshop. If there’s one thing you know about me, it’s that I have an addiction to buying books. It is rare that I will enter a bookstore and leave empty-handed. For me, it is like walking into a kitchen and being faced with freshly baked brownies and cookies. I cannot resist!

Anyway, many good suggestions were made. One in particular made an impression and so I bought it. It’s a small book called Not Quite What I Was Planning. It is, simply, a collection of six-word memoirs. That’s right. I said SIX WORD MEMOIRS. You might be asking yourself, how can this be?

The answer is that it’s based on the legend that Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in six words. Here is what he wrote: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Wow. Pretty powerful stuff, isn’t it? And that’s the premise. It is possible to say a lot with very little. In fact, it’s even fun.

The book is chock-full of these gems. Here are a few:

“Liars, hysterectomy didn’t improve sex life!” – Joan Rivers

“I still make coffee for two.” – Zak Nelson

“Fifteen years since last professional haircut.” – Dave Eggers

“Nobody cared, then they did. Why?” – Chuck Klosterman

There are more…many more. Those are just a few from the back cover alone. The book has six-word memoirs from famous and unknown authors alike. Some are silly. Some are sad or poignant. Some are brilliant.

So like the cookies, brownies and this book, I couldn’t resist. I had to try it myself. My life summed up in six words. Let me tell you that this exercise truly illustrates that less is more…work that is. It’s easy to be verbose and very difficult to be concise and descriptive all at the same time.

And although I don't come close to Hemingway, here is mine: “Saw some stuff. Tried acting otherwise.” That’s it. I won’t explain it because it’s all there.

How about you, dear readers? Will you share your six-word memoir with me? Go ahead, right here in the comments. I promise it’s fun!

Oh and if you’re totally addicted, you can join Schwartz on Downer’s Six-Word Slam on April 25^th. "Six words about you. Great fun!" (See! I did it again!) 

I have always been a Caller ID enthusiast. Over the years, it has saved me from countless telemarketers, fundraisers and sometimes an overzealous relative or two. I tend to use Caller ID aggressively and often. I like to get my money’s worth.

For me, Caller ID is most valuable prior to an election. Today alone, we’ve received four pre-voting calls – from Jill Didier, two from Scott Walker and one other that I can’t identify because I cut off the recording before it finished. It’s late afternoon, I expect a whole bunch more around dinnertime.

What baffles me about these calls is that they are just recordings, every single one of them. I just have one question: Who listens to these recordings in their entirety? Do politicians really think that little of us? I’d be curious to know how much it costs them to record and then “distribute” these calls. Regardless of who I am voting for, I refuse to sit on the phone and listen to a machine talk to me. If I wanted to do that, I'd call my insurance company...or Time Warner.

Despite the fact that I ignore, hang up on and delete these calls, I fully expect them to continue beyond tomorrow’s big vote. After all, come November, we have a really big vote happening. I’m sure my phone will be fielding calls from some heavy hitters around then.

In the meantime, I’ll just sit here and enjoy the benefits of telephone technology. Oops, gotta run. My phone is ringing. Never mind, it’s just the “Friends of Scott Walker.”

They call this time of year March Madness, and that, I love. If you give me a choice, I will always choose college basketball over the NBA.

In college, every game, give or take a cupcake or two, means something. The players play from the tip-off to the final buzzer, leaving it all out on the court.

In the NBA, they start to bring their A-game, oh in about April, so you still have some time to rest up for the playoffs. (Oh wait. There won’t be any playoffs here in Milwaukee. More about that later.) A typical SportsCenter highlight of an NBA game consists of nine guys standing around, while one guy shoots a three-pointer…uncontested. Yawn.

One final thought on the NBA here in Milwaukee. Is anyone else as bewildered as I am that the Bucks continue to run their print ads in the sports section with the tagline: The Milwaukee Bucks – Where Amazing Happens? Right. Amazing as in “it’s amazing that the general manager didn’t get fired until this past week.”

Anyway, like so many others, I have filled out my NCAA brackets. I expect to be soundly beaten by far more savvy college basketball experts and probably somebody’s 10- year old daughter who chose winners based on uniforms. Nevertheless, I find it endlessly entertaining.

Along with March Madness, we are also having one of the earliest Easter Sundays in many, many years….and it’s snowing…a lot. Gone are those dreams of taking walks in new spring apparel while we happily gaze at the blooming daffodils. Not gonna happen this year. That, my friends, is the true March Madness.

For many years, my family and I have had a tradition of playing the soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar in our car pre-Easter. I guess because it’s the perfect soundtrack to the season. I vividly remember buying this album in grade school and being very worried that the nuns would confiscate it and send us to confession. They actually liked it…and to this day, so do I. It never fails to impress me with its brilliance and beauty.

And so, on that note, I leave you, my readers, with an Easter egg of my own. (Not to be confused with a hidden bonus feature on a DVD.) If you click on this link, you’ll hear one of the gifts that my kids gave our family this past Christmas. It’s a recording of “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” from Jesus Christ Superstar. (I know – shameless offspring promotion.) This just seems like the right time to share this. My daughter, Maria, on lead vocals, my son, Dan, on harmony and guitar. (They're going to kill me. Oh well.)

Enjoy and Happy Easter!

For no good reason, other than thinking it’s St. Patrick’s Day and everybody is at Mo’s, the family and I dined at the new McCormick & Schmick’s restaurant which opened their Mayfair location on Monday.

Tucked in the less busy north parking lot near Macy’s, the new M&S is rather unassuming from the outside. Once inside, it feels completely different. Sort of a mix of cathedral-meets-the-Titanic-grand-stairway, with its domed center ceiling outfitted with stained glass and capped off with a nod to the Badger State.

The deal here is seafood, seafood and more seafood, all of it flown in from places far and wide. To me, the menu very much resembled that of Mitchell’s Fish Market, another chain that operates over at Brookfield Square. Both restaurants have menus printed daily and boast how incredibly fresh everything is and that they’ll cook it pretty much the way you want it.

Having now been to both of these restaurants, I’d say that M&S wins in the ambience department, with its multilevel dining room, making every table seem cozy and private. I think their food is better too.

The bar area here is very attractive and it was great to see that the TVs in the bar weren’t hovering over the dining area. (Seems like TVs have invaded every dining room in town lately.) Our waitress made a point of mentioning that they pride themselves on the fresh ingredients in their cocktails. Nothing pre-made. Since we had wine, I’ll have to take her word for it.

The Lump Crab Con Queso with Avacado Dip Appetizer had a light yet creamy texture that was delicious and was served with large tortilla chips. The Calamari had a nice, crispy breading and was served with three different dipping sauces. (Still doesn’t rival our favorite from Bartolotta’s, but I’d give it a close second.)

One tiny complaint was that the sourdough bread, which was good, would have been much better if served warm.

The Bleu Cheese Wedge Salad and the Caesar Salad were better than your average restaurant salads – not drenched in dressing like you find at so many places these days.

My husband had the Catfish which was served over a sweet potato hash with corned beef (no doubt in tribute to St. Pat’s day). He said his was quite good. I had the Parmesan Crusted Tilapia, served with some excellent mashed potatoes. It was delicious, and I’m happy to say they didn’t skimp on capers, one of my favorite things. My daughter, not being a fish fan, had the Pot Roast, served with the mashed potatoes. It was very tender and came with a full-flavored gravy.

Just to give the entire menu a test run, we splurged on dessert. The Crème Brulee, which they claim to be their specialty, was airy and sweet, but unlike the cocktails, tasted somewhat pre-made and not recently “torched” on top. The chocolate cake was outstanding, but way too much for one person.

Another small gripe: The coffee was rather bland when compared with the food. Why do restaurants skimp on coffee quality when it’s often the last taste memory you have before leaving? Too bad, because the food was really, really good.

Overall, the service was terrific – very attentive without being intrusive. Since it was opening night, there were a few small glitches, but nothing that would prevent us from going back.

The prices? Well, it’s seafood, so you can’t expect a bargain. This is what they call a “white tablecloth” restaurant, so it’s definitely not cheap. But I think the quality of the food and service make it worthwhile.  

When comparing McCormick & Schmick’s and Mitchell’s, I’d say that we Tosans got the better of the two seafood chains in the area. Lucky us.

Gotta go now. I have some major treadmill work ahead of me after that dinner. That’s OK. It was worth it.

What’s bugging you more? Dirty snow like this…

Or icy sidewalks like this?

For me, it’s the spring tease. Our hopes are raised and then quickly dashed.

This morning I took the dog out as always, pre-dawn. Expecting to be hit with the usual icy blast, instead, it felt practically balmy. Back inside, I checked the thermometer – 39 degrees. Yes!

Honestly, my “nice weather” standards have hit an all-time low. When I’m cheering for high-30s, you know that it’s been a long, cold winter.

Last weekend, we were told to “spring ahead” and move our clocks up an hour. If that’s not a sign that spring is on the way, then I don’t know what is. But the reality is, spring will show up when it wants to – probably in June.

In the meantime, we’re stuck in this hellish, endless circle of thaw, freeze, thaw, freeze…Walking outside means taking your own life into your hands.

A couple of weeks ago, I headed down to my mailbox to return an already-viewed Netflix selection. I took a step and ended up flat on my back. Luckily, only my derriere and my ego were badly bruised.

Truth be told, I actually don’t like spring. It’s messy, not nearly warm enough and serves just to raise our hopes, which will quickly be destroyed with the first freakish spring snowstorm.

Yet, I can’t help feeling a little bit optimistic that summer might again visit us…eventually. You know what they say – hope springs eternal.

I sat and watched, riveted, with a box of Kleenex by my side. He cried. I cried. I’m sure that most of Packer nation cried. Suffice it to say, you’d have to be a cold, hard soul not to shed a tear or two.

I’m speaking, of course, about Brett Favre’s press conference this afternoon to announce his retirement.

As a Packer fan, I needed to hear what he had to say. As a sports radio listener, I needed him to answer the many questions that have been bouncing around. He did, with a surprising amount of candor, especially when asked what he would do next.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing.”

Frankly, he seemed to be feeling the way most of us are feeling – a little lost.

And so begins the next era of the Green Bay Packers and Stage 2 in the life of Brett Favre, everyday guy.

Look, the man has led a charmed, yet blindingly public life. He’s climbed to great heights in professional sports and reached great depths in personal tragedy. His life is a Disney movie waiting to be written. We, and he, just don’t know the ending.

I know that many of you are really tired of hearing about this. There’s even a Facebook group called “Stop the Brett Favre Insanity and Report Some Actual News.” I have to say, I agree. On the other hand, collectively, we’re all having a tough time moving on. But in the interest of local public health, I’d like to try.

First of all, let’s all remind ourselves that the man did not die, something you would think if you saw 1/10 of the coverage in the past few days. He’s alive and well. He’ll survive without us, so we should be able to survive without him.

Secondly, hello! We knew this day was coming. It just happened a bit unexpectedly, but that’s pure Favre, through and through. Just when you think he won’t, he does.

Finally, I like the analogy that Brett used in the press conference. He said that Deanna said it to him the other day.

“It’s time to look at life through the front windshield instead of the rear view mirror,” he said.

Wise words indeed. Let’s all give it a try. Or think of it this way: If Brett can do it, so can I.

I blame the Boca Burgers. Perhaps he’s low on protein. A little too much Tofu?

How else to explain why Prince Fielder has messed with the delicate Brewer fan base at a time of unprecedented pre-season adoration. One of Wisconsin’s favorite sons has gone all Sterling Sharpe on us and started whining about his contract before the bases are even loaded.

On the one hand, I can’t say I blame him. The guy’s proven himself. He’s a force to be reckoned with who has become his own human highlight reel. On the other hand, don’t ya think it hurts just a little bit more because we don’t fancy our stars this way here in the land of cheese?

We like to think our home run hitters are home-grown and come complete with an aw-shucks-that’s-plenty-of-money-thank-you-attitude. This isn’t New York, so the egos should be checked at the door, right?

Um, apparently, no. This is 2008 and the bigger they play, the bigger we pay.

So Prince and his agent have dropped this giant publicity stunt, smack-dab on the front page of today’s sports section. Pretty savvy actually. The deal was renewed last spring. Yet Prince has chosen this spring, when we’re still fresh from NFC Championship heartbreak and hoping beyond hope that this is the year that we take back “Wrigley North” from the Cubs’ fans and claim the division and a playoff spot in grand fashion.

Prince knows we want it bad. He knows this will strike fear in the hearts of the Bucket Brigade. He knows we’re tired of watching pennant races filled with the names of former Brewers. Please Mark Attanasio. Let’s not add Prince’s name to that list.

But contract negotiations, like baseball, are a bit of a game. It’s he-said, they-said with a dash of revisionist history thrown in.

So let’s hope this blows over. Let’s cross our fingers that somebody steals that copy of Skinny **** from Prince’s locker and grills him a big, fat sirloin. Maybe then he won’t be so cranky.

Because although it’s going to snow again this week, Opening Day is barely a month away.

Please, Prince. Don’t mess with destiny. If you build it, we will come.

*Skinny *** is supposedly the book that Prince Fielder's wife gave him which started him on his Veggie Tales.

Besides the fact that we’re annoying each other, a little tired of being land-locked and our cabin-fever is at an all-time high, another undesirable by-product of this record-breaking winter is that we’ve become a household of sickos.

We are doing what I call trading illnesses. With our son gone at college, there are three of us in the house. At any one time, at least one of us, often two, have a cold or the flu. Don’t worry. I’ll spare you the grim details.

We’re going through Kleenex faster than water. There’s hardly enough decongestant in all of Tosa to stop our noses from running. We throw away our toothbrushes weekly. We spend our many trips to Walgreens wandering the aisles in search of something, anything that might provide a secret, miracle cure. (Yesterday, I seriously considered a Neti Pot . That’s how desperate I am.)

I have visions of calling a service, something along the lines of an exterminator, to tent our entire house and fumigate it from the germs that are apparently embedded in our walls, sort of like toxic mold.

I no longer listen for the sounds of creaking floorboards to know that my family is awake. Now it’s a cough and a few sneezes to announce their awakening.

We wash our hands so much that they’re raw to the touch. It’s obviously not helping.

I have daydreams. They involve a beach and warm, sizzling sun. Something to bake the bugs until they shrivel up and die.

I know it’s only a page turn in the calendar, but I too am really glad it’s March.

So, pretty impressive, isn’t it? My name, right above Oprah’s face. Yeah, let’s just say I’ve got friends in high places…or not.

In case you can’t see it, it says: “Karen Waldkirch, if Oprah gave you a bunch of money, but you had to give it all away, what would you do?” Oh and there are probably at least several hundred other Tosa residents that got the exact same message in their issue of People Magazine. Oh snap.

The idea is to promote Oprah's new show called "The Big Give" which premieres Sunday, March 2nd on ABC. The premise is obvious and the idea intriguing. No doubt it'll be another tear-jerking blockbuster, a la "Extreme Home Makeover."

But it made me think…locally, rather than globally. If that Ms. W. gave this Mrs. W. a bunch of money, what would I do? After the obligatory mani and pedi, of course. (Hey, a girl’s gotta look good on the local news, right?)

But seriously, if I could only spend the money right here in Tosa, what would I do? Listen in while I daydream….

First, I’d bring back Drew’s…only better. How could I make Drew’s better except to have it come back in all its quirky glory? Well, I’d add a big old-fashioned Soda Fountain! Wouldn’t that just be the best?! I can see it now. Walking in on a hot summer day (remember what hot used to feel like?!), sliding up to a padded spinning stool and ordering a basket of fries and a chocolate malt. Pure bliss.

Secondly, I’d extend the bike path on the parkways from one end of Tosa to the other. No more jumping up on the curb to save your life once you hit Swan Boulevard.

Thirdly, how about a big, fat paving budget to eliminate the craters and sinkholes on our roadways? While we’re at it, more salt than the dead sea and more plows than Fairbanks, Alaska?! And along with the plows, there’d be a virtual SWAT team of “snow technicians” to jump out and dig out the sidewalks, driveways and front walks that get buried by the plows.

I’m sure I could go on, but why not let you, the readers, in on the fun? That’s why we have the snazzy comment feature. If my BFF (best friend forever, for the alphabetically-challenged), Oprah, gave you a bunch of money, how would YOU spend it in Tosa? And while we’re at it, maybe that’s a good question for our mayoral candidates!

Speak to me people!

I can’t stand this winter, not one moment more.

I’m throwing in the towel, the shovel and the door.

I’ve had it with snow, there’s just no room to throw it.

Our snowblower's great, but there’s nowhere to blow it.

My back, neck and arms ache from hoisting the snow.

Sure, the plows and chiropractors are making big dough.

The cold is persistent, there’s not an end in sight.

Each day takes an effort, no scratch that, a fight!

Our cabin fever has reached an all-time high.

We’re all going crazy, we’d all like to cry.

The ice dams are growing, the icicles are scary.

The path to my front door is treacherous and hairy.

My sidewalks and car sport a layer of salt.

There’s no point in this whining. It’s nobody’s fault.

Still I can’t help complaining. It helps when I vent.

I point to the heavens and ask someone to relent!

I’m tired of slipping and sliding on ice.

It’s hard to be upbeat, when you’ve fallen once or twice.

No, grouchy’s the way I will still stay until summer.

There’s no doubt about it, this winter’s a BUMMER!