No, Actually, A Broomball Stick is Quite Hard

I could tell they were tourists.

They walked in about three steps before hesitating, pausing to take that blank look around the bar that’s so familiar. It’s the look that asks without words, “Are you open?”

After a few uncomfortable moments they finally express their thoughts audibly, and I wanted to reply (as I always want to reply) with something along the lines of “No, sorry. We just open the doors, turn on the lights and heat, and staff a bartender to try to blow all that money we make in the summer. Please leave now.”

Unfortunately, I never do.

“You bet,” I say, before reassuring them, “it’s just the quiet time of the year right now.”

They breathe a sigh of relief, as most do, for this is probably not the first door they pulled on tonight, but it’s likely the first that opened. Or maybe it’s the one place the lady at the desk told them would be serving food tonight.

They sit at the bar and order a couple of cocktails, and I can see the next question forming in their heads. A few moments go by, then the lady asks, “So, what the hell do you guys do up here in the winter?”

I smile, let out the form letter chuckle I keep on hand for such questions, then tell them they already seem to have a pretty good grasp of it. Moving on, I try to explain for them that it really isn’t that bad up here, but I’m almost defensive about it, like I’m in denial.

Thing is, I really do like it, but it’s surprisingly hard to communicate it to someone who is used to daily trips to McDonald’s, Wal-Mart or the mall. If that’s your normal, if that’s your happiness, you’ve got a big mental block to get through (not to mention a slew of more pressing issues). They drive down the empty February streets of Sister Bay in wide-eyed wonder at the lack of lights, tacky signs, and neon that define home to them.

I tell them it does take a little getting used to. Even if you grew up here that first winter back can be a doozy. But eventually you settle in, learn to appreciate the county’s charms, and fall into a routine. It’s a pretty laid back, low-stress community, and if you like reading and renting movies you’ll find yourself feeling pretty accomplished come springtime, then the anticipation of the summer carries you through the homestretch.

“Yeah, but don’t you get a little stir crazy?”

Sure, the isolation can get to you every once in a while, so it helps to get out of town for a week here or there, especially if you’re on the younger side. But it’s nothing like the island. A couple of us sort of, crack, every winter though.

I tell them there are things to do that break up the winter. I mention bowling, with maybe a little too much genuine excitement, and they raise an eyebrow. I quickly move on. You could do worse than drive along the bay every da and there are the old standbys that are always open – coffee shops, bars, Bhirdo’s, Al’s …the bowling alley.

The couple is still looking pretty skeptical, and I remember broomball, which perks me up. But try explaining that to them.

“Broomball? You play a sport with a broom?”