The Jimmy Buffett of Polka

Oh yes, I would be/am referring to: WURSTFEST!!!!!!! Another year and sadly, another fest has passed us bye-bye. We managed to make it to 4 out of the 10 days this year and next time, we might just try to top that. Andrew is depressed and doesn't know what he's going to do with himself now that he has to wait an entire year. We had our babysitter watch Salem last night so I could get a "real feel" of what it was all about, and I couldn't believe my eyes (the other days that I've been have always been during the week and more kid friendly.) I've never seen such a diverse group of individuals all joined together to get shit faced drunk, eat sausage on a stick, head-bang (literally for some) to pasty, stinky, beer-bellied, middle-aged (or older) men in their sexy lederhosen. Women throw themselves onto these polka band members like no other. Some even rush the stage and then they send this guy as their bodyguard to tear them off. I don't know about you, but if John McCain was waddling towards me, something tells me I would have a chance against him!

I also can't figure out what the deal is with all the hats. You should have seen all the people buying up the stupid things from the crazy hat vendor. What is it, put a few German beers in people and then they decide they can't live without wearing a basket full of bananas on top of their head? Or better yet, the redneck cowboy who then thinks he needs a pimp hat on top of his cowboy hat!??? The chick dancing on stage was one of the groupies!

Andrew wants the entire family (that would be including me), to get full appropriate garments and wear them next year. I take that back, in reality, he really wants me to go above and beyond that. He wants ME to talk to some of the Opa's I know to see what it would take to get HIM a seat in their organization. Sounds simple, but that is by far the case. There is a waiting list (however miles long), for men to become Opa's here. You have to "know people." Basically, it appears to me, that it's one big fraternity of once again, middle to older aged men that wear lederhosen, dirndis, trachten shoes, Bavarian green alpine hats, have Erzebirge smokers, and vests with too many buttons on them. Ohhh.... I'm turned on just imagining what he would like all decked out for me!

Gluttony is now settling in from all the bread pudding, sausage, fried pickles, iced brownies, and I swear the inhaling of beer alone put me over the edge.

I will now go to bed dreaming of Opa's chanting: "Zicke, Zacke, Zicke, Zacke, Hoi, Hoi, Hoi!

Oh, and Salem had an absolute blast, danced her little toosh off, and indulged into too many bad things just like her mommy and daddy! Any yes, I'm STILL pregnant!