This is a small experiment in the blogosphere. "If you have no interest in what it's like to grow old, what follows is not for you. However, if it's going to happen to you, and the outcome is ultimately going to be negative, then finding a way to make the process as bearable, even as enjoyable as possible, might be worth a little attention."—from John Jerome's On Turning Sixty-Five
31 December 2008
One of The Lesser Bowl Games
N.B. Hustisford is my home town, though I haven't lived there since I was 21. Once a cheesehead, always a cheesehead.
Though not so well known as the Rose, Orange and Cotton Bowls, the Toilet Bowl is also played on New Year's Day in a rural southern Wisconsin village, Hustisford, just north of I94 about halfway between Milwaukee and Madison, in the middle of dairy farm country.
The players are usually intoxicated young men without helmets or protective pads, and they play tackle no holds barred of course. In the morning they have a parade and a King and a Queen and everything. Sometime back in the 80s my mother ran for Queen and won. I know she sold me quite a few tickets with which she stuffed the ballot box, just like they do it down in Chicago. You can look it up on the Internet. Or read all about it in some of the quality newspapers of the USA. See below.
It has been held regularly since sometime in the 60s, the 1960s that is. To put that into perspective: while some "community organizers" were blowing up Chemistry buildings at the University of Wisconsin—Madison other young men were going to Vietnam or playing football in the Toilet Bowl. Nowadays it is a fundraiser for the local volunteer Fire Department.
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