I don’t think of my father much as the flowers type. He wore a hat much like this one of most of his adult life, so I leave one to remember him as he was. We spent the first night in the Milwaukee area, and when we discussed breakfast options, I said, “George Webb’s.” We looked for a location near our near-Menomonee Falls lodging, but the George Webb site tried to send us down onto Capitol Drive. I investigated further, and my beautiful wife sought out alternates, including Dunkin Donuts (which we also don’t have in Springfield). I found a closer one in Germantown, and my wife announced to my disappointed children that I had my heart set on “the George Webb place.” She is from the UP, as I explained to many, many of my fellow Wisconsinites on the trip. Our real target was a resort in the Wisconsin Dells. When we picked the destination, my beautiful wife asked me what there was in the Dells. I had to admit I didn’t know; mine was not a middle class upbringing, and when I lived in Wisconsin, we did not vacation at the Dells. Actually, in my youth, I went on one (1) vacation, and that was (oddly enough) to the Missouri Ozarks (Rockaway Beach on Lake Taneycomo specifically). We did take a couple weekends “up north” in the family’s cabin in northern Wisconsin and\/or the UP (where I might have caught a glimpse of my beautiful wife in her childhood, forever bonding us before we knew it, but probably not). All I knew about was the river bluffs called the Dells. Which we saw. Wisconsinites might not realize it, but you can’t get cheese curds to snack on everywhere, although you can get them everywhere in Wisconsin. So I bought some and introduced them to my children, explaining that where the gods have ambrosia and nectar, Wisconsin has cheese curds. Speaking of things unavailable in Missouri, they don’t sell Open Pit barbecue sauce in this uncivilized land, either. It’s vinegar with a hint of tomato for coloring. I didn’t remember its taste clearly because my family didn’t barbecue that much when it was a family and when I lived in Wisconsin. But I remember it’s what we used, so we picked up some at the local grocery.<\/p>\n I’ve since used several bottles and will have to find out if Amazon delivers it, or else I’m going to have to re-enact Smokey and the Bandit<\/em> to bring a truckload home. Although it’s not really in the Dells, the House on the Rock is close (within an hour’s drive), so we went. Mainly because I’ve seen signs for it and misremembered articles about it and confused it with Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater<\/a>. There, I admit it.<\/p>\n The House on the Rock instead is a crazy clubhouse tourist attraction built atop a column of sandstone. The fellow who built it intended for it to be a tourist trap, and it’s got rooms bored in the rock and an Infinity Room that extends like a finger over the valley so you can walk out and look down on the trees (come on, you can see why a house with a finger extending over a valley might be confused with a house extending over a waterfall, can’t you? Please?) The house maintains a large set of automated orchestras, a large carousel, and many collections.<\/p>\n Three good things came from the trip:<\/p>\n![](\"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/bsgfx\/grave.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n
<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n ☑<\/td>\n Drive down by the lakefront on a sunny afternoon.<\/b>
As part of a whirlwind your of Milwaukee and showing my children where I went to the university, I did so. However, my children were more interested in their Gameboy Advances that they get to play with during long car rides. However, the older one did take a look out over the blue water, the beach, and the sailboats.
<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n ☑<\/td>\n Breakfast at George Webb.<\/b><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n
<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n ☑<\/td>\n Dude, you’re going to the Dells.<\/b><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n
<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n ☑<\/td>\n Eat cheese curds.<\/b><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n
<\/td>\n\n ☑<\/td>\n Stock up on Open Pit<\/b><\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n
<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n\n ☑<\/td>\n Visit the House on the Rock<\/b><\/p>\n \n
\n ☑<\/td>\n Stock up on Packers gear.<\/b><\/p>\n