Here’s to Wisconsin dudes

The wind whipped wet snow in his face Wednesday night as my husband Vince stood behind our backyard grill.

“I really like this new spatula,” he said, cheerfully flipping a grand total of 45 burgers and 64 brats for a cookout he was hosting the next day.

Though born and raised in Illinois, Vince is a Wisconsin dude. He’ll grill any meat in any weather.

I once saw him out there blinking frost off his eyelashes as he tended to a venison tenderloin so fresh it had frolicked across a cornfield earlier that day.

Yesterday morning he woke early and pulled on his favorite jacket — the one with frayed cuffs and a torn pocket he’d repaired himself. Then he headed outside, fired up his snow blower and took it for a spin around the neighborhood.

Mother Nature had gifted us with a First Day of Spring Snowstorm, and Vince beat the other dudes out there to clean it up.

We have a good many Wisconsin dudes in our neck of the woods. Most of them learned from the King Dude, our next-door neighbor Doug. A decorated WWII veteran, Doug beat all comers to a snowy sidewalk. He used to fire up his snowblower faster than we could say, “Would you look at that? It snowed last night!” Doug inspired other dudes, like Jerry, who taps his own maple trees and can repair anything on wheels, and Joe, who moved here from Germany and quickly adapted to Wisconsin dudedom.

Our friend Tom is the kind of dude who will climb up a borrowed ladder to trim tree branches for you, if you ask him. And our friend Gary helped Vince discourage 16 bats from living in our attic. Once, our daughter Molly wrecked her bike near Gary’s house. Before Molly and I had even returned home from having her broken wrist X-rayed, Gary had rescued her bike, repaired it and dropped it back off at our house.

What a dude!

Yesterday, I read a harrowing account of my Facebook friend Amy’s drive through Snowstorm Ezra. Her windshield wipers broke, which made it nearly impossible to see. She stopped several times to ask for help, but no one would. Finally, she pulled into a car lot and went inside to make her frantic plea. A young lady there found a wrench, came outside and repaired the wobbly wipers at no charge.

That young lady is a classic Wisconsin dude.

So, here’s to the dudes and the great state that they call home!

We’re lucky to call you ours.