West Side Stories

I wrote about this last year (one of the few things I received e-mail about), but it was only days before the event. This time, I’m bringing it up early. I’m talking about trick-or-treating. I think it’s time for us to Take Back Halloween.

Every year, you hear neighbors chatting on sidewalks and street corners: “When is our trick-or-treating?” “When is Wauwatosa’s trick-or-treating?” It takes a savvy citizen to keep track of the dates and times.

When I was a kid, things were simpler. After we walked five miles to and from school in the pouring rain, we trick-or-treated…on Halloween. Not the Sunday before or the Saturday after. On the actual date - at night. Oooh…scary!

Then years later, Halloween got downright nasty, and I’m not talking about haunted houses. There were tainted candy bars and razors in apples. Creepy people messed with trick-or-treating and so we messed with Halloween. We cleaned it up and made it safe…and boring.

Nothing takes the fun out of Halloween faster than telling kids that they get to go door-to-door during the day. There’s nothing remotely scary about that, and that’s the problem.

I’ve heard through the Tosa Town Square that several neighborhood associations are not as organized as others and don’t have specific plans for where and when to trick-or-treat. This is exactly why we should go back to Halloween Night.

Any responsible parent accompanies their young children when they go trick-or-treating. And yes, I’m aware that there are, unfortunately, some irresponsible parents. But this method of offering multiple trick-or-treat opportunities is not going to fix that.

I say, be safe, watch your kids, know your neighbors and let’s go back to trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Feeling frustrated and looking for something to attribute the Brewers’ late season decline? It’s me. It’s OK. I can take it. Here’s how it happened.

It was August 13, 2007, a bright and sunny day. My daughter and I headed over to Miller Park. The Brewers were not there, which is exactly why we were there. With a brand, spankin’ new driver’s permit in her pocket, my daughter was anxious to begin honing her behind-the-wheel skills. Miller Park, with its acres of empty parking lot, provided the perfect first-time test.

After a few fits and starts, we decided that we had earned a lunch at Friday’s Front Row Grill, inside the stadium. Next to Friday’s is The Fan Zone Store, filled with lots and lots of Brewers’ apparel and merchandise. This is exactly where it all started.

That fateful day, my daughter and I bought Brewers’ shirts. We actually bought shirts for everyone in the family. And, of course, why wouldn’t we? Things with the Brew Crew were going well. Pennant fever was in the air. And so I purchased the most ridiculously overpriced piece of team apparel I will ever own. An old school/old logo Brewer shirt.

How expensive was it? I won’t tell you, but it caused my husband to ask: “You didn’t really pay that much for that shirt, did you?” I don’t know what I was thinking. I offered to take it back which he nixed. I should have done it. I think it has jinxed the team.

Although the Brewers have won more than they have lost since I purchased The Shirt, I still have yet to wear it. Everyone else has worn theirs, which is why I blame myself. I kept waiting to wear it in triumph of our playoff hopes shining brighter and brighter. The opposite is happening. The light at the end of the tunnel is growing dimmer each day. The shirt hangs in my closet with tags still attached, taunting me.

Meanwhile, back in Illinois, where I grew up a Cubs’ fan by geography and circumstance, my almost-77-year old father sits at home watching his beloved Cubbies. This is where it all gets murky. How can I cheer against my father? How can I applaud when the thing that he would want most in his sports fan lifetime could possibly happen? I have to tell you, my Catholic guilt is waging war with my shiny new allegiance to the Brew Crew.

I haven’t yet worn The Shirt, feeling like it’s filled with empty promises and unfulfilled glory. How can I wear it with any amount of swagger when our playoff chances diminish with each passing day?

So here’s where it stands: I’m still cheering for the Brewers. I want them to win, but it doesn’t look good. And if the Cubs win the NL Central and go far in the playoffs, I’ll be quietly OK with it…for my dad. Very quietly. Because sitting on the couch next to me will be my husband - the die-hard Brewers fan/Cubs hater who drove 1,500 miles to watch The Crew when they were in their one and only world series in 1982. I have to be quiet about it - he paid for The Shirt.

The music world is a little quieter and a lot sadder today. John Ruka, a drum and percussion instructor who founded the Drum Instructor’s Guild, passed away this weekend at the young age of 62.

Our family first met John several years ago. We had given our son a drum set for Christmas and were looking around for an instructor. A friend directed us to John who ran a drum studio out of his Tosa basement. Our son began taking lessons which eventually changed his life.

The best way to describe John was to say he was a cool cat with a passion for drumming. His studio was as eclectic as it was educational, filled with drum magazines, drum albums and endless drum paraphernalia. He couldn’t begin to tell you enough about drums, drummers and drumming. His passion for his art and craft were evident throughout every lesson and every opportunity he found to share it with his hundreds of students.

With his shock of white hair, ponytail and goatee, John was no ordinary music instructor. He had a knack for relating to kids and turning them on to new and different sounds. He had an appreciation for every style of music and would often go out of his way to introduce kids to the sounds of legendary drummers.

Three years ago, our son decided that his dream was to go into music recording. He was only a beginning drummer with modest talent but a love of music. As he began to search for colleges, he found out that in order to enroll in a recording program, he would have to audition not only on drum, but also marimba and timpani, two instruments he had never played. John gently explained to him that this would be a huge challenge but that it was doable if he really wanted it. In a matter of months, John taught our son enough skills to help him pass an audition and get accepted to a terrific program where he is truly studying and living his dream. We are forever indebted to John for everything he did to help make this happen. His belief in our son made our son believe in himself.

My deepest sympathies go out to John’s wife and daughter at this time of tremendous loss. The music world has lost a really great man. Wauwatosa and the Milwaukee area have lost an amazing drum instructor and musician. And yet, we all know that John’s ‘beat’ will go on through the lives and music of his many students.

“An emergency has been reported. Please immediately move toward the exits. Do not use the elevator.”

This announcement is how a brisk fall afternoon at Lambeau Field started out for us. We stood there, all 70,000 of us, and looked at each other. Cheerleaders were lining the field, awaiting the Packers who were about to run out of the tunnel. Other than the emergency announcement, there was almost no sound. And yet people were definitely not leaving.

Suddenly, I had visions of a disaster and thought we needed to leave. We started down the stairs. But we were one of the few. Ushers were not trying to get anybody moving. We made it down a few rows when the public address announcer finally told us to disregard the announcement. Later, I found out that a faulty vent in a concession area was to blame.

As we mark the sixth anniversary of one of the most horrific tragedies in the United States, I can’t help but wonder how prepared we really are. There are all sorts of emergency disaster plans at most public venues but this past Sunday at Lambeau Field, most people weren’t taking it seriously.

If you have cable television or listen to the radio, you’ve probably heard the Emergency Broadcast System. I’m sure I’m not in the minority when I admit that I sometimes mute the sound. It’s loud and not pleasant to hear. When will my show come back on?

In December, 1999, everyone in the U.S. worried about the infamous Y2K bug. Will it shut down computers and systems everywhere? Will we be without food, power or water? Here’s exactly what I did to prepare for this potential calamity. I filled up the bathtub with water. That’s it, that’s the list. Kind of pathetic.

After 9/11, much was made of how every family needed an Emergency Preparedness Kit. And so, less than two years after filling the bathtub, I pulled out an extra laundry basket and started throwing into it canned food, duct tape, flashlights, batteries and assorted odds and ends. Again, a pathetic attempt that wouldn’t do much in case of a true emergency. But I didn’t want to be the only one who wasn’t ready. I eventually dismantled the kit and again repurposed the laundry basket for its original use.

Still, the announcement at Lambeau made me think about it again. If the time came and the situation arose, would we take it seriously? Would we have any clue what to do? Would people help each other or run over each other? I still don’t know the answer and hope and pray we don’t have to find out.

Wauwatosa now has a swanky new chocolate retailer to add to its swanky grocery stores and upscale restaurants. Chocolaterie Stam opened this past week in the new retail space adjoining Locker’s and the soon-to-be open Alterra coffee shop at 92nd and North Avenue.

Driving home from a school meeting this past Thursday night, our family couldn’t resist the lure of the bright chandeliers and cozy soda fountain façade. Stepping inside, it felt like we had walked into a shop in the middle of Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Could this really be Wauwatosa? Everything was…perfect.

Chocolaterie Stam features gourmet Dutch chocolates and bon-bons that look almost too pretty to eat. And, you’ll pay for that perfection, but I can see this as a great place to purchase gifts for those hard-to-please people that have everything. In fact, I’d imagine that teachers at any of the nearby schools could expect a pretty box of Stam Chocolates this holiday season. The only other Stam locations are Iowa, North Carolina and Holland, so it’s fun to have something unique here in Tosa.

In addition to the beautiful bon-bons, Stam also offers a nice selection of gelato, which is essentially Italian ice cream with 35% less air, creating a much more dense and flavorful product. On Thursday, some of the flavors offered were Crème Brulee, Chocolate, Chocolate Stracciatella and Pistachio. The gelato is made right there in the store, so you know you’re getting a fresh treat. I believe that beverages were also offered, and you can enjoy everything right there in the lovely, and fancy, sitting area.

It will be interesting to see how Tosa embraces Stam in the coming months, especially when the temperatures start to fall. I’d like to think they have a healthy, albeit high-calorie, future.

This is the post where I sound like a crabby old person. You know, that woman in the neighborhood who tells you that she walked five miles to school when she was a kid and she liked it. Yeah, today that’s me.

In case you didn’t notice. It’s unseasonably warm right now. No. It’s hot. Very hot. Oh and the kids are back in school. And because it must have been a slow news day yesterday, I heard a story on the radio about how the kids at Brookfield Central are “without decent relief” because they don’t have air conditioning. Apparently the Elmbrook school district wouldn’t pass a referendum to pay to cool the schools.

My first thought when I heard the story was “Oh brother.” My second thought was “I’m glad I’m not them.” No, seriously. I’m a huge air conditioning enthusiast. I’m sitting here in nice central air while writing this. But I really don’t feel too bad for those kids..or my own kids who never attended air conditioned schools.

I walked by Lincoln Elementary School today, and judging by the open windows, I’d say it’s safe to assume that there isn’t A/C in that school. I’d also guess that the kids might be mildly annoyed but hardly noticed the heat. Kids are resilient in that way. I was – back in the day.

In the meantime, let’s talk about something truly challenging – the mosquitos! Now that’s a story worth hearing!