Ring Around the Country
6/14/06

This past weekend we took the ring on tour. The tour spanned over 600 miles and included 4 cities in 2 states, all within 3 days. Some might call that hectic schedule. Us Fockers-to-be, we call that a quiet weekend. For those of you who do not know us well, the road is our best friend. We pride ourselves in knowing every inch of interstate in the greater tri-state area. Cumulatively, we belong to 5 different frequent flyer programs though have yet to qualify for any free tickets. While we might not have written the book on long distance relationships, at the very least we’ve chartered the atlas.

This weekend’s excursion took us up north to the great state of Wisconsin. Wisconsin happens to be the home state of my blushing bride, and therefore, ground zero for “Operation: Get Hitched.” Our first stop was the town of Kohler, home to 10/13/07 Party Headquarters, the American Club. The American Club is the beautiful location Kristen’s parents have generously decided on to host our marital shindig. Until Friday, I had never been to the American Club, which until I was engaged, I did not see as such a great void in my life, however, I soon learned otherwise. Apparently I was sick the day the entire world went to the American Club, because it turns out everybody, and their mother (except of course, me and my mother) have been there. I assure you this is no exaggeration. In fact, I would go out on a limb and say that more people have been to the American Club than have been to Disney World. For example: review the following dialogue I actually overheard at the water cooler this morning:

Bob: Mornin’ Jim, how was your vacation?
Jim: Great Bob. Went to this place in Florida called Walt Disney World.
Bob: Disney, eh? Never heard of it. Nice?
Jim: Well… it’s no American Club.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say that most of my friends and relatives are more excited about the location than the actual event that will be taking place that weekend. (Which, of course, would be the round of golf at Whistling Straits.)

But in all fairness, upon walking the grounds, I have to admit, I too fell in love with the luxurious locale. Assuming mother nature cooperates, it’s suffice to say that the American Club will be the perfect storybook setting for what will undoubtedly be a fairytale ending. (“Cinderella story… outa nowhere…”)

From Kohler, it’s a quick 24 miles up I-43 to Manitowoc, WI, Kristen’s old stomping grounds. Manitowoc is famous for its cranes, its car ferry, and the biggest Wal-Mart I’ve ever seen in my life. In fact, I believe the Manitowoc Wal-Mart is represented in the Fifa World Cup, currently underway in Germany. (I believe they will play the Schaumburg Ikea in first round action.) We stopped in Manitowoc, to visit Kristen’s parents, Jack & Dina Byrnes. Knowing that I had already been warmly welcomed into the Byrnes Family Circle of Trust, I breathed a little easier. I was even pleasantly surprised to share in a champagne toast with the man who only weeks early had me pacing around my apartment in a cold sweat.

After exchanging pleasantries, we embarked even further north for Green Bay.
(Sidebar: At this time, it is probably appropriate to address the concern my fellow Bear fans might have with my marrying a cheesehead. Though I admit that marrying outside of the religion is frowned upon by many, I assure you that the root of our faiths is strong enough to hold us together. Though the pillars of our faith may vary on the gridiron, at the end of the day, we both believe in the same one, true God… who bleeds Cubby blue.)

Despite being home to the antichrist, Green Bay played home to a beautiful wedding of two great friends, Frances “Baby” Houseman and Johnny Castle. Baby went to high school with Kristen up in Manitowoc. (The school was located inside the Wal-Mart, aisle 32, just past the cereal.) Attending a wedding once you are engaged, gives you an entirely new perspective of things. You are no longer a guest. You are a consumer. The grand march is a fashion show, the dinner is a tasting, and the DJ is an American Idol audition, and you are Randy and Paula. (b/c let’s face it, nobody wants to be Simon) Despite our over-analytical critiques, Baby and Johnny’s wedding was a blast, and to boot, Kristen and I are pretty sure we’ve found our DJ too.

Sunday morning, we left Green Bay for Arlington Heights, IL, home of my parents, Frank and Marie, where we shared another champagne toast to the happy couple. (I’m told that’s me and Kristen.) We spent the evening ironing out the details for the big day, being that it was only 16 months away, and thus, right around the corner. It took a couple of hours but I’m pretty sure all of the planning is done, save a few minor details (such as vows).

So with our 4th and final city checked off the tour schedule, it was back home to Chicago for the night, before rising bright and early for Kristen’s return flight to Minneapolis in the morning. Driving home we reflected on the weekend’s events and wondered where the road to wedded bliss would take us next. Another state line? Most likely. Another champagne toast? Perhaps. Another American Club? No way, Bob!