For those unfamiliar, envision this: outdoor beer festival in the dead of winter + pre-lenten celebration in a Catholic town not ready to give up meat on Fridays + unabashed pride in New Ulm’s Schell’s Brewery + fur- and antler-adorned out-of-towners flocking to New Ulm by the busfull.
So, I rolled up an extra pair of wool socks, borrowed Brad’s deer hunting coveralls (I affectionately call them camouflage suspenders) and rehearsed a few rounds of my favorite polkas: “In Heaven There Is No Beer, That’s Why We Drink It Here” and “I Don’t Want Her, You Can Have Her, She Don’t Drink Schell’s Beer” (formerly “I Don’t Want Her, You Can Have Her, She’s Too Fat for Me” – clever, right?).
Hey, Dr. Arndt said to live it up. That’s how we do it here.
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