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Volume One 08/11/2022

Page 64

Local Lit FROM THE PROLOGUE OF SIT DOWN AND STAY AWHILE: MY AUNT LIL, A SMALL-TOWN BAR, AND A LIFETIME OF POLKAS words by

ken szymanski

Drive down Wisconsin Highway 29. Take the Thorp exit

ers and I played football in Uncle Butch’s yard across

and continue up the main drag. Just before the railroad

the alley, we took our halftime breaks in the bar. We

tracks, look for a bar on your left. If this were anytime

climbed up on our stools, sipped our drinks, and admired

from 1948-2000, there would’ve been a sign with the bar’s

the signs and knickknacks behind the bar. A small tree

simple name: Leon & Lil’s. Step inside where, for those 52

branch sat on a shelf, and on it sat assorted peanuts, wal-

years, the good times flowed like beer through the taps.

nuts, and chestnuts, all with glued-on googly eyes. The

Uncle Leon and Aunt Lil were usually the bartenders. Or

caption beneath read: “I Think We’re All Nuts.”

maybe Uncle Butch or Aunt Donna. Or maybe my cousins Mike, Paula, or Jerry.

For years, a tightrope string clung near the ceiling above the bar. Perched on that tightrope sat a miniature stuffed

Leon and Lil lived upstairs, along with my grandmother,

chimpanzee on a unicycle, balancing with a cross stick.

who went by the Polish name for Grandma: “Busha.” After

When a bartender pulled the string down at one end of

visiting Busha, a stop at the bar was automatic. All we had

the bar, the chimp rode the string downhill, pedaling the

to do was walk down the stairs and out the garage door,

unicycle like mad past every patron to the opposite side.

then take two steps to the right. When we opened the

At the sight of this high-wire comedy act, even the most

back door to the tavern, a new world awaited: neon lights,

stoic customer couldn’t help but crack a grin.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Ken Szymanski is the 2020-2024 Eau Claire writer-in-residence. He is the author of Home Field Advantage and Sit Down and Stay Awhile: My Aunt Lil, a Small-Town Bar, and a Lifetime of Polkas. For the past 24 years, he’s taught eighth-grade English at South and DeLong middle school. He lives in Eau Claire with his wife, two sons, and perfectly-trained dog. For more on Ken’s writing and literary projects, visit kenszymanski. com.

jukebox, bowling machine, candy case, coolers, rows of bottles, racks of chips, and frozen Tombstone pizzas

The beer signs lit the place with a dim glow: Old Style,

stacked two feet high in the freezer. In the 1970s and ’80s,

Hamm’s, and Schlitz. We pulled the knobs of the cigarette

patrons enjoyed a giant, primitive Trapshoot video game

machine and scanned the labels for my dad’s brand,

on a big screen above the bowling machine. If you asked,

Belair. More importantly, the jukebox in the corner sat

the bartender handed you a wireless, brick-sized black

filled with possibilities. In my teenage years, that juke-

box with one button. For a quarter, you could play this

box was the only place I could hear Bruce Springsteen

game from anywhere in the bar, shooting at virtual clay

B-sides, though Aunt Lil kept it loaded mostly with polkas.

pigeons on the big screen for virtual medals.

My brothers and I checked the coin slots hoping for forgotten change. We had so much to look at, so much to

Though I was 15 years too young to enter legally, no one

snack on, so much to drink – much like the adults in the

ever asked for my ID. Aunt Lil was as excited to see me

room. As an out-of-towner who lived 45 minutes west in

as any customer there, quick to hand me a candy bar,

the big city of Eau Claire, I may not have known the cus-

a soda, some quarters, or all of the above. Sometimes, I

tomers, but I knew the ringleaders of this circus behind

wasn’t even with my parents. When my cousins or broth-

the bar. And because of them, I was always welcome.

ABOUT THIS PAGE:

TO SUBMIT YOUR WORK:

Curated by Bruce Taylor, former Poet Laureate of the City of Eau Claire and Professor Emeritus, UW-Eau Claire, Local Lit features some of the best of the Chippewa Valley’s poetry and prose. It runs once a month, usually in every other issue. Read more local literature at VolumeOne.org/lit.

Got some good words? We accept original poetry and short prose from current and former Chippewa Valley residents. Poetry must be 30 lines or less, prose must be under 500 words. Writers may submit up to one poem or prose piece per month. Previously published material is welcome (tell us when/where it first appeared). Email qualified submissions to: lit@volumeone.org (paste text directly into the email, type “Local Lit Submission” into the subject line).

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