Endless bummer

Because I love freedom, I took the family to Durand, Wisconsin, last weekend. The autumn colors, the open road. This is Real Ameri— Well, truth be told, the only reason we found ourselves in Durand is because every hotel in southeastern Minnesota was booked. Durand lies across the Mississippi 20 miles north of Wabasha, our ultimate destination.

It is a lovely drive to Wabasha this time of year, bluff-top farms in mid-harvest alternating with little riverside towns selling apples and fudge out of every storefront. From Wabasha the road turns north and runs along the Chippewa River to Durand. In Durand they are selling beer out of every storefront.

Of US cities with the most bars per capita, 11 of the top 20 are in Wisconsin. Durand sits at roughly the intersection of 70-mile radii drawn around the five in the southwest corner of the state. There are 829 households in Durand, according to the US Census.

I called the front desk to ask about dinner options for a family with three children "Oh, sure," the desk clerk said. "We got lotsa family restaurants. You just come on down to the lobby. We got menus for all the places, sure."

Indeed they did. Undecided, we drove the block to downtown Durand to survey our options:

Club 10 Entertainment Center: Bar.

Bun's & Rosie's: Bar.

Construction Zone Bar & Grill: Bar.

Marge's Corral Bar: Bar

The Durand House: Bar.

Lone Pine Grill & Tavern: Bar.

Mick's Bar & Tammy's Cafe: Bar.

River's Edge: Bar.

Shari's Chippewa Club: Bar.

The Spot Bar: Bar.

Urne's Whitetail Bar & Grill: Bar.

Alex's Pizza: Bar.

I know what you're thinking. At least one of those, probably The Durand House, is a supper club, right? Should be okay for the ki— No. Bar. I know from bars. Got dragged to a lot bars as a kid, and I'm not too proud to drink out of a dirty glass. But there are bars and then there are bars. The latter type are sad, forbidding places on a Saturday night in small-town Wisconsin, their outsides papered with orange "Hunters Welcome / Drink Leinenkugel's" signs, their insides mostly empty, a few stools and tables occupied by people hunched over their beers, looking too forlorn even for an Edward Hopper study. The bartender, too, is hunched over a beer. The way the patrons look out the window at you when you walk by to get a closer look makes you turn up your collar. You move on to the next joint but they're all the same.

In the end we got sandwiches from the Subway at the gas station. We ate in our room and watched Animal Planet. The kids were delighted.

The next morning I took the girls for a walk down to Main Street, which runs along the river. Main Street had a "Sunday Morning Coming Down" feel. Shabby and too brightly lit. Oddly, the bars all had cars parked in front of them. Of course, I thought after a moment. It's Wisconsin. I checked my watch: 10:01. A young woman in a Green Bay Packers shirt got out of a truck, put a toddler on her hip, and slipped into Marge's Corral Bar. Across the street, Durand Liquor & Cheese seemed to be the only liquor-related business not open. It may have been defunct. Most of the stores were—or were on their way.

I took the girls' picture in front of the crumbling Durand train station, alongside which the track had all but disappeared under the grass. This image features prominently on the Visit Durand website, as does a lot of copy beginning "Lorem ipsum." Durand is a city of unfinished, or forgotten, business.

The Missus said Durand gave her the heebies-jeebies. We left quickly.

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It was good to get away, but good to come home. The week quickly filled up with activities and commitments, as they do. Book club last night. I asked The Missus if she needed me to pick up anything after work.

"I need wine and cheese," she said.

I rubbed my chin, thought aloud about whether to stop at Kowalksi's or Haskell's first.

She smiled. "If only there was a store that sold both liquor . . . and cheese."

Please let me know if you will or will not be playing hoops at St. John's tomorrow. We tip off at 8:00 a.m., as usual.