Minnesota Nice

Thanksgiving is my mom's favorite holiday. It's the only holiday at which she truly requests my attendance; which, if you're the child of divorced parents with three re-marriages between the two of them, is a bit of a blessing. Several years ago, she moved to Minneapolis from Ohio for a new job opportunity. I gave her a hard time about it; for someone who doesn't like the cold very much she sure was moving the wrong direction.

Contrary to it's uber-winter status, Minnesota is actually a beautiful state. It gets way more sunshine than some of the other midwest states (for reasons I have yet to figure out), and is home to a derivation of people that my mom and I refer to as "Minnesota nice". There's nice, and then there's Minnesota nice. For example: Once, when I was flying to see my mother for Easter, I got on the plane and the woman sitting next to me was having a hard time getting her carry-on in the overhead storage compartment (in my mind that that makes it no longer a carry-on, but that's another story entirely). This woman literally handed me her purse to hold for her while she wrangled with the overstuffed "carry-on". I believe the assumption was that I was Minnesota nice, just like her. Fortunately, I'm not a clepto and I obviously returned the purse to her untouched, but me and my MLK address could not get over the fact that she just handed me her entire purse without a second thought. I suppose that's 'stupidity' not 'nice', but regardless, I have seen more examples of that sort of behavior in Minnesota than anywhere else.

So, this Thanksgiving was no different than the last several in terms of making the 11+ hour drive northward. I don't care how nice Minnesota is, there is no denying the length of that drive. The six hours through the Wisconsin hinterlands, as I call them, is truly the worst part of the whole ordeal. There. Is. Nothing. Dead deer, dairy cows, semi trucks, and random Cheese Haus' (yes, with the German spelling). If you want cheese or venison, you have come to the right place. For anything else, i.e. civilization-- it's best to keep on driving. Eventually, if you stay on I-94 long enough, you will reach the promised land of the Twin Cities. After 11 hours in the car it feels like the promised land regardless of the outside temperature.

It's always worth it. My mom insists on Thanksgiving because it's one of the few holidays without pretense. Come together, have a meal, find some respit before the holiday rush. Frankly there's nice, and then there's Minnesota nice.