On Easter Sunday, 1975, I came downstairs to find a large basket filled with eggs, a hollow chocolate bunny and a rolled up blue T-shirt adorned with the smiling portrait of Arthur Fonzarelli. I had to wear it the next day to school, and, yes, I got mad props for the coolest shirt in school (if my hyperbolic memory serves).

Later, I would move to Milwaukee. Well, 22 years later.

Now, what I don't understand is this: What the hell is the big deal about the Fonzie statue? We've got people leaving town, people bitching about the betrayal of art as well as a collective eye roll by many residents. Come on, folks. This is Milwaukee. This is a town built on blue-collar pride, beer and motorcycles. We work, we party, we make fertilizer out of what's left.

And not to downplay our finer points either; we're up to here with culture. The Calatrava-designed art museum addition, our film community, David Sedaris visiting The Pabst on a regular basis, wonderful restaurants, not to mention a healthy music scene -- all add to our mosaic of refinement. But seriously, it's our complete spectrum ranging from the "tasteless" to the "tasty" that makes us great. I'm a creative fella, Janet's a photographer and we love that balance.

I been talking a lot about the Wisconsin brand at work, and I can sum it up in one word: Context. For whatever reason, Wisconsin, and more specifically Brew Town, gives folks context. When I moved here 11 years ago, I felt it in the air. I felt possibilities cover me the second I hopped out of my Penske rental truck. The shear enthusiasm of Milwaukeeans gives others inspiration to not only find themselves, but to celebrate that fact with a few dozen brewskis.

It's an act of self-actualization to live here. "What do you want to do?" would be a wonderful slogan for this town. (Hint: there's no wrong answer.) And if a bronze statue of a fictitious childhood hero is what you're about, I am for you, sir. So, while some refer to us as the next Detroit, I prefer to say we're the next ... whatever the hell we want to be.

That's the power of what I get to do every day. Finding the soul of an organization and celebrating its originality is like unlocking a child's mind. The possibilities are endless and the rules are few. It's our brand -- like it or not.

Personally, I love this town and its diverse culture as much as the Fonz loves punchin' jukeboxes. Ehhhhhhhhh.