You don't see them so much anymore, but back in the day every farm had a mule or three. However, our love of mule has endured here in the midwest. It's the official state animal in Missouri, the mascot for Central Missouri State University (or whatever in the hell they're callin' it these days) and the high school mascot in towns from Fairfield, Illinois to Bedford, Michigan to Poplar Bluff. Nowadays the Amtrak line from St. Louis to Kansas City is called the "Mule." And if you've never swallowed a Moscow Mule you're missing something. (Get your mind outta the gutter.) Just add vodka, lime juice and ginger Beer and serve it cold in a pewter mug. It's gooder'n hell, I'm telling ya.
Oh sure, you thought that Don Draper guy on the teevee was a native of New York? Heck no — that boy is from St. Louis, Missouri. He went to some fancy-pants high school in Ladue (where the money is) and even got an acting scholarship to go to Mizzou. (Brad Pitt went there too without an acting scholarship, but he seems to do OK.) But you know he's a White Midwesterner on account of the way he wears pleated khakis on the show, and I bet you a donut he's got a few pieces of Budweiser memorabilia at his house. You can take the boy outta St. Louis, but you can't take the St. Louis outta the boy.
If you'd like to nominate someone for WM of the WK, email us at iloveranchdressing@gmail.com.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, ever since the ubiquitous ranch dressing landed on the scene, White Midwesterners have been putting this nectar of the gods on nearly everything. Pizza, burgers, fish sticks (guilty as charged), hot dogs—you name it, ranch dressing goes with whatever artery-clogging meal you rest on your fat thighs while watching TV.
That bright orange gift-with-purchase tote bag from your wife Julie Anne's last trip to the Clinique counter is perfectly acceptable travel gear to a White Midwesterner. Oh, and White Midwesterners are really antsy about "some clown swiping our luggage" at baggage claim, hence the multitude of baggage "customizations" we employ. (Full disclosure: My sturdy black Samsonite carry-on has two ID tags, blue nail polish on the bottom, and my initials written in gold marker in no fewer than six places. Oh, and some old ribbon left over from Christmas is affixed to the side handle.) If we see somebody with matching luggage, WMs instinctively think that the owner is either (a) from the coast or (b) a foreigner. Both of which make WMs just a little bit uncomfortable.
White Midwesterners love international travel (it makes us feel so worldly when we write our yearly Christmas letters), and we especially love to come back and carp about how bad the food was. Case in point: My friend Shannon and I were in Rome a couple of years ago and the food was ghastly—lots of gray meat and it tasted nothing like the Olive Garden. The fact is, we White Midwesterners love the idea of foreign food, but anybody will tell you that most of the Mexican restaurants here in town are "Taco Bell with a tablecloth" kinda joints and, frankly, we're really OK with that. Real foreign food is usually made up of animals and vegetables that are completely, well, foreign to us, and that kinda grosses us out. A lot.
How better to say, "Flag Day is on its way!" than a lovely novelty sweater? Every young White Midwestern woman has had the joy of opening a birthday present from her mother-in-law that consists of a "hip" novelty sweater (with matching socks!). The cache of novelty sweaters is so strong that Internet sensation (and White Midwesterner) Leslie Hall became a YouTube star with her song about gem sweaters.
By: C.L. Freie
Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC
ISBN: 978-0-7407-7953-4
Format: Paperback: 6 1/2 x 8, 192 pages
Price: $12.99 ($14.50 Canada)
Contact: Shelly Barkes, (800) 851-8923, ext. 6818, sbarkes@amuniversal.com
