My husband was born and raised in Green Bay, and his mother and stepdad still live there. Consequently, we visit at least a few times a year, and when we do, my mother-in-law always suggests -- subtly or not so subtly -- that we should pack up the kids and move to the "Frozen Tundra."

This isn't going to happen.

Granted, I've seen a lot of changes in Green Bay since I first started visiting more than a decade ago. Back then, we hung out at the Cock & Bull, Speak Easy and our favorite place, the now-defunct Concert Café. In the past few years, we've watched new places open and add to the mix, like Bull & Bear, Top Hat, Hinterland Brewery and Sardine Can.

Sure, Green Bay has its charms: the Packers, of course, along with a rich Native American history, classic Sconnie fish fry joints like the Lorelei, Hansen's Dairy, the beautiful Green Bay bike trail and my beloved Don Smith Sales that's stocked with cheap odds 'n' ends from the '70s and '80s.

But I really don't think I could live in Green Bay. Despite the increase in modern bars and restaurants, I still feel a certain podunk-ness about Packerland, and that although it's a growing city, it's still not quite enough.