A Letter To Michelle

Dear Michelle,

Top of the morning to ya! Actually, it’s about 4PM. But still, top of the morning! 

I’ll stop.

I hope this letter finds you and your husband well. I figured I’d include him too, since I think it was on my blog where you first revealed that you and him were married. I had been reading his blog for months and had no idea.

If I knew you were about to break such news on my blog I would’ve set up an exclusive one hour interview and sold advertisements for it. I could’ve been the blog version of Barbara Walters. Oh well. It’s okay.

*Moment of silence for the ad revenue not made*

I don’t know of any other married couples who both have blogs on WordPress, so I hereby pronounce you the First Family of WordPress.

No need to thank me, though I do like gift baskets.

Now then, I understand I’m sending this letter to Wisconsin. I like Wisconsin for a few reasons. The first one being the cheese. The second one being the possibility of a snowy atmosphere for football games.

And the third reason is the university mascot is a Badger. That’s what my school mascot was, so I feel a certain kinship with Wisconsin.

Please note, that’s the first time I’ve used the word “kinship” in my letters.

I like Badgers. They look like one of those animals you don’t want to mess with.

But back to more important things – cheese.

To quote an accomplished scholar known as Wikipedia (when you’re that famous, you only need to go by one name): “Wisconsin is known as ‘America Dairyland’ because it is one of the nation’s leading dairy producers, particularly famous for its cheese.”

How profound.

What is your favourite cheese? Mine alternates depending on what I’m eating at the time. It could be cheddar, mozzarella, provolone, parmesan, or this round ball of cheese I eat at my grandparent’s house (the name escapes me right now).

Are there a lot of dairy puns in Wisconsin? Do the kids grow up playing “Truth or Dairy”? If not, they should.

What about pin the cracker on the cheese? Another potential children’s game. 

Ooh ooh ohh, one last one! (Milk)Shakes & Ladders. 

Oh man, the possibilities are endless. 

I assume the term “cheesehead” is an endearing term, though if I didn’t know that I’d probably be offended. Like if some has really bad dandruff and is called a cheesehead, that person might think, “Oh no, it’s because it looks like parmesan cheese is falling from my head.”

Then they’d wear a hat everywhere.

That was gross. Sorry.

Moo-ving on.

You wanted me to tell you about what’s on the other side of a black hole. I’m glad you asked because, fortunately, I know everything.

It’s not as doom and gloom as professionals will have you think, though it is pretty gnarly. 

On the other side of a black hole is basically a really big waiting room with beige walls, a TV that is always on the news channel, but has no sound so no one really cares, and a water cooler that needs replacing. 

It’s basically like going to the dentist, except no one calls you in and you just wait there forever until everyone starts asking each other, “How long have you been here?” and “What’s taking them so long?” Until finally they all realize that none of them booked a dentist appointment and they are in a place they don’t know much about.

That’s why it’s important to pay attention in biology.

Oh, they don’t teach you about black holes in biology? Whoops. 

So yeah, that explains it. 

You told me that one thing that interests you is people who are always smiling and happy. The first thing I thought of was clowns. 

Why do clowns exist? If they want to make others laugh or smile, I suggest they rebrand themselves. Call themselves Clowmedians. 

Or if they’re from Wisconsin, Cowmedians.

Ahahahaha. Again, I’ll stop.

I never expected to be talking about clowns today, but hey, things happen.

Last thing, you asked me if I’ve ever time travelled because I look familiar to you. I think I have time travelled. I saw a younger version of me on the bus last week. It was freaking me out.

His legs hung out of his stroller just like mine did when I was that age. He had my haircut. He had my face. And then he stuck his tongue out at me. If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.

Also, I’m pretty sure I was a dog in a former life. Maybe you know me from then?

I feel like one day we will get a definitive answer whether or not time travel exists. No one has said it doesn’t, right? There is still hope.

Well Michelle, that’s all I have. 

I remember a while ago you told me that I’m known as “the sports guy” (I think?) when I come up in discussion in your house. I find that really cool. I never expected to be the subject of conversations in a stranger’s house, but I’m happy to know that I am.

Thank you for the endless support you’ve given me. 

To your husband, I hope the Brewers hang on to first place and can make a playoff run. It would be a lot of fun.

Thank you both and…..

Oh I just remembered, I don’t like blue cheese or feta cheese. Just had to get that in there in case of a pending gift basket.

And with that, I bid you both adieu. I’ve never said that before, ever. 

With cheese up to my knees,

The Sports Guy