We had dinner in Aberdeen with my Aunt Maudie and cousins Robb and Betsy. Being connected, or as Betsy said, “living here all my life”, has its perks. Bets got us a semi-private room at Maveric’s, a steak house in town. The food was good, but the best part was seeing and catching up with them. We haven’t seen each other since our grandmother died in 2000.
Aberdeen is in Brown County and the county fair is this weekend. Betsy went to the concert, The Band Perry, a country band (as she says, in Aberdeen your only music choice is country) and the rest of us went to Maudie’s condo. At 74 she’s the youngest person in the complex, though we didn’t meet any of her neighbors.
With a population of 26,000, we’d describe Aberdeen as a small town with big town aspirations. Betsy says it’s safe and she doesn’t have to worry. This cowtown has a western, country, rural feel to it. Huge implement dealers book end both the east and west edges of town. There are no tall buildings and you can purchase large game lawn ornaments (life sized bear, deer, etc) at two (at least) roadside places. Ken’s sells ammo, guns, bait, and groceries. Gas is $3.58 a gallon.
The bar attached to our hotel, Tapz, has four beer taps at the end of every table, where patrons can serve themselves by the ounce. The screen on the wall records the number of ounces, like a gas pump. Robb says the place attracts the college crowd and the bar puts up photos of the guzzlers who drink the greatest number of ounces. It’s just the kind of place I’d hate to be in … and just seems like a bad idea.