Catherine Preus, Guiness, and Princess Kay of the Milky Way
My mother phoned tonight to inform me that my old friend Catherine Preus had a column in the Minneapolis Star-Tribune. Catherine and I were schoolmates in college and, by a queer twist of fate, eventually neighbors and co-workers in Jos, Nigeria.
The subject of Catherine's meditation was something near and dear to the heart of every Minnesotan: The Minnesota State Fair. This year, Catherine approached the "Great Minnesota Get Together" from a new mother's perspective:
One of our first stops (after the Tiny Tim doughnuts) was at the information booth -- a place I'd never visited. I knew there were places set aside for nursing mothers, so I told Joe to wait while I asked for directions to the "lactation stations."They'll probably just point at your chest," he said. Always bring someone helpful if you go to the fair with a baby. Actually, we made a pretty good team navigating the stroller and juggling the supplies (see box). And the lactation station ended up being wherever Baby Theron got hungry.
Read Catherine's Piece:
Catherine's writing really captures the vibe of the State Fair, and since Laurie and I will see things from a similar perspective soon, I found her writing especially poignant.
As for me, my favourite State Fair memory also involved a new addition to the family--my brother-in-law Neil. The fair was a real eye-opener for our Seattle boy.
Every year the main attraction in the Dairy Building--aside from the deep-fried cheese curds--is the Dairy Princess, resplendent in her gown and tiara, posing for photographs in a refrigerated room.
Every year, the Midwest Dairy Association holds a pageant to elect a young woman 'Princess Kay of the Milky Way'. According to the MDA...
Princess Kay of the Milky Way serves as the official goodwill ambassador for Minnesota's dairy industry. During her yearlong reign, she makes numerous media and public appearances on behalf of the Midwest Dairy Association and Minnesota's dairy producers.
You can read more about the princess here:
http://www.midwestdairy.com/content.cfm?contentalias=m_pk50facts
When Neil and I paused to pay homage to this agriculural icon, he asked me why she was in the cooler.
When I explained the annual tradition of carving a sculpture of the princess out of butter, he doubled over with irrepressible laughter, and Rudy Boschwitz purple milk dribbled out his nose.
From that day forth, I knew Neil's perception of my fair state had changed forever. No hip Lake Street urbanite could be taken seriously in light of what he'd seen that day; no monolithic downtown office tower could banish that buttery visage. In his mind, it became the quinessential,enduring symbol of Minnesota.
2004 Princess Christina Rettman
My quintessential symbol of Minnesota would be that blond-haired, blue-eyed, quick-witted woman of Norweigan ancestry pushing around the baby stroller in the Star-Tribune photo...Maybe someone should carve her profile in a block of Lutefisk.
Hey Theron--here's a story momma probably hasn't told you. When we were both in Nigeria, a young Irishman named Fergal was smitten with your mother. As luck would have it, he worked at the Nigerian branch of the Guiness Brewery. In an attempt to gain her favour, he brought over case after case of the world's finest stout to your mom and her friends.
Despite the strenuous objections of myself and our Danish friend Henrik, your mother remained friends with Fergal, and eventually the waterfall of free beer came to an end.
Not long afterward, your mother returned to America and met your father and the rest, dear boy, is history.
The subject of Catherine's meditation was something near and dear to the heart of every Minnesotan: The Minnesota State Fair. This year, Catherine approached the "Great Minnesota Get Together" from a new mother's perspective:
One of our first stops (after the Tiny Tim doughnuts) was at the information booth -- a place I'd never visited. I knew there were places set aside for nursing mothers, so I told Joe to wait while I asked for directions to the "lactation stations."They'll probably just point at your chest," he said. Always bring someone helpful if you go to the fair with a baby. Actually, we made a pretty good team navigating the stroller and juggling the supplies (see box). And the lactation station ended up being wherever Baby Theron got hungry.
Read Catherine's Piece:
Catherine's writing really captures the vibe of the State Fair, and since Laurie and I will see things from a similar perspective soon, I found her writing especially poignant.
As for me, my favourite State Fair memory also involved a new addition to the family--my brother-in-law Neil. The fair was a real eye-opener for our Seattle boy.
Every year the main attraction in the Dairy Building--aside from the deep-fried cheese curds--is the Dairy Princess, resplendent in her gown and tiara, posing for photographs in a refrigerated room.
Every year, the Midwest Dairy Association holds a pageant to elect a young woman 'Princess Kay of the Milky Way'. According to the MDA...
Princess Kay of the Milky Way serves as the official goodwill ambassador for Minnesota's dairy industry. During her yearlong reign, she makes numerous media and public appearances on behalf of the Midwest Dairy Association and Minnesota's dairy producers.
You can read more about the princess here:
http://www.midwestdairy.com/content.cfm?contentalias=m_pk50facts
When Neil and I paused to pay homage to this agriculural icon, he asked me why she was in the cooler.
When I explained the annual tradition of carving a sculpture of the princess out of butter, he doubled over with irrepressible laughter, and Rudy Boschwitz purple milk dribbled out his nose.
From that day forth, I knew Neil's perception of my fair state had changed forever. No hip Lake Street urbanite could be taken seriously in light of what he'd seen that day; no monolithic downtown office tower could banish that buttery visage. In his mind, it became the quinessential,enduring symbol of Minnesota.
2004 Princess Christina Rettman
My quintessential symbol of Minnesota would be that blond-haired, blue-eyed, quick-witted woman of Norweigan ancestry pushing around the baby stroller in the Star-Tribune photo...Maybe someone should carve her profile in a block of Lutefisk.
Hey Theron--here's a story momma probably hasn't told you. When we were both in Nigeria, a young Irishman named Fergal was smitten with your mother. As luck would have it, he worked at the Nigerian branch of the Guiness Brewery. In an attempt to gain her favour, he brought over case after case of the world's finest stout to your mom and her friends.
Despite the strenuous objections of myself and our Danish friend Henrik, your mother remained friends with Fergal, and eventually the waterfall of free beer came to an end.
Not long afterward, your mother returned to America and met your father and the rest, dear boy, is history.
