The blondes know: You only need one pasty in the land of long underwear (SFW)
The first time someone said, “Welcome to the UP,” I thought it was a brand of port-a-potty. But no. It’s the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, a land where summer is just an excuse to launder your long johns, quickly, before winter arrives. On the southern shore of Lake Superior, I drove on a state road with a speed limit for snowmobiles! Uff da! (It’s a Scandanavian expression that usually means almost any negative emotion. It’s big in the Upper Midwest. Wikipedia says it’s also spelled “uff-da, uffda, uff-dah, oofda, ufda, ufdah, oofta or ufta” — I feel better about the controversy over spelling “y’all.”)
But the UP is the place if you want blondes and pasties. No, I did not visit the Strip ‘n Whip club. A pasty (past - e) is a big empanada, a baked “fried pie,” classically with meat and vegetables — hope you like rutabagas. One makes a meal & costs $3 - $4.50. English (Welsh?) miners would heat them on a shovel down in the mine. So you’re not getting fancy flavors.
As for blondes: At the Swedish Pantry in Escanaba, a third of the lunch crowd was blonde, and a third had gray hair (probably former blondes, judging from their dining companions — often adult children). But it’s not just that restaurant.
The puppet tells a bunch of blonde jokes, but they were already altered to poke fun at himself. Two favorites: “My new hobby is climbing chain-link fences to see what’s on the other side. It took forever to eat breakfast because the orange juice said “concentrate.” So I did, for four hours.”
