Newark, N.J. -- I've noticed this in the past and it's clear to me now, again, thanks to a seven-hour layover at Liberty International Airport in Newark, across the Hudson River from Manhattan. It's always obvious when a Milwaukee-bound flight is about to board.

Maybe this is true for everyone regardless of their hometown, but I've also lived in New York and I can't say I've noticed it of flights headed to the Big Apple. An hour or so before a Milwaukee-bound flight departs, the gate suddenly fills with people in sweat pants, Packers T-shirts and our beloved Milwaukee accent, loaded as it is with traits derived from our Polish and German ancestors.

It's something that to be proud of. We're a distinct breed, us Milwaukeeans. We have our own style, our own voice, our own certain something. We can recognize each other easily. It's a bond.

Waiting for my flight for a long time -- just down the concourse from the Miller Brewhouse -- I saw planes depart from the same gate for St. Louis, Charlotte, Providence and other locations. Before boarding, most people sat talking, dozing or reading. But before the Milwaukee flight, all eyes were on the TVs broadcasting a football game (sorry, fellow citizens, this is one interest I don't share, so I can't tell you who was playing).

And in true Milwaukee style, I saw at least two cases of people from Milwaukee unsuspectedly encountering acquaintances from here. As I tried to explain to one person in Italy, Milwaukee is only slightly smaller than Turin, but it feels like America's biggest small town. It's rare to go anywhere here and not run into someone you know.