Excerpts from Eleven Days in August
Saturday, 2:10pm
Brian is an interesting, hard working and good-looking guy,
but he's, well...stocky. If he were a girl, his mother would describe him as being big-boned.
But he's not a girl - he's just a big, husky guy. He has huge, muscular calves; he thinks
they're his best feature and is known to push the shorts season well into the
winter months, which, in Wisconsin, is really pushing it. The long apron,
ending as it does just above the knees, accents his lower legs, which is
probably why he's usually wearing his apron...maybe even why he agrees to work
so hard during his summer teacher's break. We humor him whenever he flexes his
calves and carries on about them. As for me, I just see two Easter hams with
shoes and, if the truth be told, when he looks at those freckled calves in the
mirror (we know he does), that's probably what he sees as well, for Brian loves
to eat - and there's a lot to eat at the Wisconsin State Fair - hence, his
problem with the apron getting tight. Read More
1973
"How many miles left?" I ask an anxious customer whose hanging binoculars
peg him as a car race fan who has just exited the stands to grab a bagful of sandwiches.
It's a race day in 1973 and we're about to get blasted.
"Only about thirty when
I came out just a minute ago," he says with a smile, hurriedly pocketing his change and
quickly walking away with his sandwiches.
"Amatore, do you have enough fire? Better
get ready; big push coming." Dad is looking at me with an expression that says he's concerned
that his twenty-nine year old son will fall behind. His worry is justified; when the race
ends, thousands of fans will pour out of the stands and many will rush directly to Mille's
for a sausage sandwich. Read More
1982
It's a cold November wind that is blowing but I pay no attention to it though
I'm dressed in a suit and wear no overcoat. The chill and other reminders of late autumn
and even winter - dead, blowing leaves, brown grass, and a sun low to the horizon - all
seem somehow fitting. It would be wrong, somehow inappropriate, today, to bother with a coat
or to shy from the cold northern wind. I'm here, in Milwaukee, for the second time in just
a few days which is unusual living in Michigan as I do. The year is 1982 and, other than a
couple of days ago, I hadn't been here since August, for the last Fair. Read More