2025 Draft in Green Bay

Todd Princl

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I was thinking about renting out my cabin in my back yard. But it sounds like a pain in the butt once I think about it.
I do know that the houses around the stadium are getting $1500 a night. And the Packer houses got $25,000 for the 3 days of the draft.
 

edensmage

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Yoy got a jacuzzi? Thats about what we saw. I asked my wife to look for a place with a jacuzzi. She was like..."ummm...I don't think so."
 

AmishMafia

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A good friend of mine - cowboys fan - asked me about going to the draft at some point. I told him "Hell yeah!" Lets go in 2025 when it'll be in Green Bay. So I think we'll definitely be up there. Possibly even have the wives come along. If I have wine for them I'm sure they'll be content to hang out with us crazies. I've been to Lambeau a few times but if anyone local knows the landscape of good places to hang while not at the draft, lmk. Would love to meet up.
The ladies love Door County. Get a B&B in Sturgeon Bay, get a rental car for them and they will be good for a week or two.
 

DoURant

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My good friend Mac ( we watch night 1 of the draft together every year, he's a Rams fan), and I are planning on driving to Green Bay to take in day 3, then drive home after... saves on an expensive hotel night.
 

Thirteen Below

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I'm from the Waupaca/Stevens Point area, so I'll probably stay with friends a little ways east of Waupaca and just drive to and from. Lots of options in the area if you don't mind driving a bit through that beautiful countryside.
 

Thirteen Below

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I do not! Miss the home state.
Same here. I've been living in rural Kentucky (sorry, I should use parentheses and say "living" in the sense that it is simply a figure of speech) for almost 13 years now, and hated about 23 hours and 59 minutes of it every single day. I despise it. The only possible good thing I can say about Kentucky is that if there truly is a hell, I have a "Get Out Of Hell Free" card, because I've already served that time. I miss Wisconsin and northern Minnesota a hundred times a day.

I grew up in North Central Wisconsin, lived there and Central-Northern Minnesota half my life, except for a couple years each in Northwestern Montana (just west of Glacier Park), Hilo side of the Big Island of Hawaii (right on the slope of the volcano; used to sit on my deck and watch the red glow in the sky from the lava), Central Californa (between Big Sur and San Francisco), and SoCal (LA and Ventura).

About a year in Chicago, also, and a half a year in New York City. Both of which were incredible experiences, but just not "me". And about 8-9 months in Berlin; my ex was German.

And while I loved some things about every one of those places, and often really miss Calfornia and Hawaii (I mean, who wouldn't?), Wisconsin is the only place I dream about several nights a week and wake up sad because I'm here instead of there. I'm not kidding; I remember my dreams, and night after night I'm dreaming I'm in Wisconsin.

Best thing that ever happened to me was meeting my wife. Very (very) close second was being born in Waupaca.
 

Voyageur

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Would you attend an NFL draft? Years ago, someone asked me that question. I immediately answered; "Never!" Of course, that's when it was always held out East, and in large metro environments. I don't need any of that. I've had enough of large cities.

I never dreamed Green Bay would host the NFL draft. If I was younger, and in better health, you can bet your bippy that I'd travel the 1,636.3 miles from my home in South Texas to Lambeau Field in a heartbeat. This is going to be an event to remember the rest of the lives of all that are there to attend it.

If John Madden was still with us, I think I know what he'd say. His words would be along the lines of; "Finally! The NFL has taken it's most important event outside of the Super Bowl to Mecca, where it should have been held a long time ago."

We miss you John. I'd love hearing you broadcasting from the event. You had a special way of telling us how much Green Bay and the Packers mean to the game.
 

Voyageur

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Same here. I've been living in rural Kentucky (sorry, I should use parentheses and say "living" in the sense that it is simply a figure of speech) for almost 13 years now, and hated about 23 hours and 59 minutes of it every single day. I despise it. The only possible good thing I can say about Kentucky is that if there truly is a hell, I have a "Get Out Of Hell Free" card, because I've already served that time. I miss Wisconsin and northern Minnesota a hundred times a day.

I grew up in North Central Wisconsin, lived there and Central-Northern Minnesota half my life, except for a couple years each in Northwestern Montana (just west of Glacier Park), Hilo side of the Big Island of Hawaii (right on the slope of the volcano; used to sit on my deck and watch the red glow in the sky from the lava), Central Californa (between Big Sur and San Francisco), and SoCal (LA and Ventura).

About a year in Chicago, also, and a half a year in New York City. Both of which were incredible experiences, but just not "me". And about 8-9 months in Berlin; my ex was German.

And while I loved some things about every one of those places, and often really miss Calfornia and Hawaii (I mean, who wouldn't?), Wisconsin is the only place I dream about several nights a week and wake up sad because I'm here instead of there. I'm not kidding; I remember my dreams, and night after night I'm dreaming I'm in Wisconsin.

Best thing that ever happened to me was meeting my wife. Very (very) close second was being born in Waupaca.
My Wife and I lived in Waupaca for a couple of years. Actually, out on the Chain of Lakes, by King. Fantastic area. Loved it. Also, my Grandmother and Step-Grandfather lived out their final years at the Veterans Home in King. It was a great place back in the 60s. He was a member of Roosevelt's Rough Riders. He was so mild mannered it was hard to believe. But, as an Officer, he had the sword to prove it.
 

Poppa San

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Door County has all kinds of wine and is a great place to hang away from the crowds in Green Bay
I live 20 miles south of the stadium and have 5 different wineries within 15 minutes drive.

Maybe I can convince the missus to do a bonfire in my backyard Saturday night if'n y'all wanna drive into the sticks. On a quiet night you can hear the distant banjo music welcoming another visitor.
 

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I live 20 miles south of the stadium and have 5 different wineries within 15 minutes drive.

Maybe I can convince the missus to do a bonfire in my backyard Saturday night if'n y'all wanna drive into the sticks. On a quiet night you can hear the distant banjo music welcoming another visitor.
I love banjo music. Many years ago, my wife and I were fortunate enough to be invited to a party where one of the guests was a well known banjo player. I'd never appreciated the music until I heard him play, and it was enlightening to say the least. He was just starting his career at that point, but became one of the best in the Bluegrass field. I wish I could remember his name, but it's been a long time now. I do know that it was at a country home outside of Cameron, WI, where they now have the Cameron Bluegrass Festival.

But, I believe that was before the Festival started. My memory of it is very foggy, because it wasn't long after that I had a stroke. It erased all but bits and pieces of an extended period of time.
 

sschind

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I love banjo music. Many years ago, my wife and I were fortunate enough to be invited to a party where one of the guests was a well known banjo player. I'd never appreciated the music until I heard him play, and it was enlightening to say the least. He was just starting his career at that point, but became one of the best in the Bluegrass field. I wish I could remember his name, but it's been a long time now. I do know that it was at a country home outside of Cameron, WI, where they now have the Cameron Bluegrass Festival.

But, I believe that was before the Festival started. My memory of it is very foggy, because it wasn't long after that I had a stroke. It erased all but bits and pieces of an extended period of time.
Depending on what he was playing your memory might not not be so foggy. If you like banjo music you won't need me to break it down any further.
 

Thirteen Below

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I love banjo music. Many years ago, my wife and I were fortunate enough to be invited to a party where one of the guests was a well known banjo player. I'd never appreciated the music until I heard him play, and it was enlightening to say the least. He was just starting his career at that point, but became one of the best in the Bluegrass field. I wish I could remember his name, but it's been a long time now. I do know that it was at a country home outside of Cameron, WI, where they now have the Cameron Bluegrass Festival.

But, I believe that was before the Festival started. My memory of it is very foggy, because it wasn't long after that I had a stroke. It erased all but bits and pieces of an extended period of time.
I can probably find out that name - my best friend from high school teaches astronomy and physics at UWSP and has a very successful bluegrass band. He also organizes a large annual bluegrass festival in Northern Wisconsin. He's played with everyone in the business, all over the country. With that information, I'm sure Art could take a good guess who he was.
 

Voyageur

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I can probably find out that name - my best friend from high school teaches astronomy and physics at UWSP and has a very successful bluegrass band. He also organizes a large annual bluegrass festival in Northern Wisconsin. He's played with everyone in the business, all over the country. With that information, I'm sure Art could take a good guess who he was.
Thanks! I appreciate that! It was somewhere between 1980 and about 1987 or 1988 I believe. That whole segment of time is so sketchy to me. I was able to rebuild most of my memory over the years, but there are segments that never came back. Little things that people say will trigger mechanisms that unlock another drawer now and then. When Poppa mentioned the music, it triggered this memory.

Every time it happens, I thank God that I'm still alive, and was able to rebuild my life. Way too often people take life for granted, and don't understand the importance of wringing every bit out of each day that they can, because we can never travel this path again. Live today like there is no tomorrow, because it's not guaranteed for any of us. Sorry if it sounds like a lecture. That's not the intent.
 

Poppa San

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When Poppa mentioned the music, it triggered this memory.
Glad to be of service.....
1987 hmmm?
Baby Jessica fell down a well, Simpson's debuted, "Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" Spuds McKenzie, Walk like an Egyptian, Katarina Witt (named my baby girl after her) ... forget it, jog your own memory I have to get to work.
 

Voyageur

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Glad to be of service.....
1987 hmmm?
Baby Jessica fell down a well, Simpson's debuted, "Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" Spuds McKenzie, Walk like an Egyptian, Katarina Witt (named my baby girl after her) ... forget it, jog your own memory I have to get to work.
Naming your new daughter Witt wasn't really a good choice though, was it? Witt San? Sounds like something you'd buy at IKEA!
 

Todd Princl

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I live 20 miles south of the stadium and have 5 different wineries within 15 minutes drive.

Maybe I can convince the missus to do a bonfire in my backyard Saturday night if'n y'all wanna drive into the sticks. On a quiet night you can hear the distant banjo music welcoming another visitor.
Are you close to Parallel 44?
 

Thirteen Below

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Thanks! I appreciate that! It was somewhere between 1980 and about 1987 or 1988 I believe. That whole segment of time is so sketchy to me. I was able to rebuild most of my memory over the years, but there are segments that never came back. Little things that people say will trigger mechanisms that unlock another drawer now and then. When Poppa mentioned the music, it triggered this memory.
I'm sorry, I lost this conversation and couldn't recall what thread it was in because we wandered so far afield. Which is a perfectly legitimate and well-earned privilege that (IMO) comes with being born while Buddy Holly was still alive.

I'l call Art on Friday; he does a show on traditional American folk and country music for public radio on Wednesday mornings, so I leave him be the last couple of days prior to Wednesdays. He tends to get focused. And I'm on the road much of the day Thursday.

Before I ask him, I wonder if there is anything you could add that might jog his memory. Any memory of the man's physical characteristics; red hair... beard... glasses? If not, that's fine.

As far as you recall, was he living at the time in the Cameron/Rice Lake/Cumberland area? Sounds as though that was the case.

Even with what you've told me, I think it's likely Art will know, and if he doesn't, he'll know who to ask. He knows every longtime bluegrass musician in Wisconsin.

Every time it happens, I thank God that I'm still alive, and was able to rebuild my life. Way too often people take life for granted, and don't understand the importance of wringing every bit out of each day that they can, because we can never travel this path again. Live today like there is no tomorrow, because it's not guaranteed for any of us. Sorry if it sounds like a lecture. That's not the intent.
Oh, no, that doesn't come across as a lecture at all. I've read far too many of your posts to draw such an inference. Lecturing just isn't in your repertoire. You're just reminiscing, and sharing insights from your experiences.

I totally agree, and I've had a few life lessons that taught me the same thing. Couple of times I thought my life was on cruise control, and it changed abruptly. In 1985, I was happily married to a wonderful woman, we had a great little starter home and 2 wonderful cats.... making plans for law school, working for a consulting engineers' firm for the summer... June 28th, 10:30 AM, my leg was crushed by a backhoe.

Long story short.... in the hospital almost 2 months, somehow managed to keep the leg. Hundreds of hours of rehab over the next year or two; a year before I could walk again, several more before I would walk more than a few minutes at a time. Lost my career, my marriage, my home, even the cats eventually. Homeless for a while, crippled all the time...

Built up another life over the years, one that didn't include law school, my first wife, or my starter cats. Had a great career (2 or 3 of 'em, really), had some incredible relationships.... met and married the most completely amazing human being I've ever known.... won't get into details, because I don't want to sound like I'm boasting, but it very much worked out OK, because sometimes life just does that.

But the takeaway from that was that at any given moment, when you feel life is good, or decent, or wonderful, or even just tolerable... no matter how happy you feel, something may be 5 seconds away from you that you have no way of knowing about, that will leave you looking back at that moment for decades as the last moment in your life that you were truly happy. A backhoe, a fall down the stairs, a car runnning a red ight, a motorcycle accident, a stroke.... a million things. So don't waste. A. Moment.

Ever.

Point is, I totally get where you're coming from, and absolutely understand what you're saying.
 
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Voyageur

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I'm sorry, I lost this conversation and couldn't recall what thread it was in because we wandered so far afield. Which is a perfectly legitimate and well-earned privilege that (IMO) comes with being born while Buddy Holly was still alive.

I'l call Art on Friday; he does a show on traditional American folk and country music for public radio on Wednesday mornings, so I leave him be the last couple of days prior to Wednesdays. He tends to get focused. And I'm on the road much of the day Thursday.

Before I ask him, I wonder if there is anything you could add that might jog his memory. Any memory of the man's physical characteristics; red hair... beard... glasses? If not, that's fine.

As far as you recall, was he living at the time in the Cameron/Rice Lake/Cumberland area? Sounds as though that was the case.

Even with what you've told me, I think it's likely Art will know, and if he doesn't, he'll know who to ask. He knows every longtime bluegrass musician in Wisconsin.


Oh, no, that doesn't come across as a lecture at all. I've read far too many of your posts to draw such an inference. Lecturing just isn't in your repertoire. You're just reminiscing, and sharing insights from your experiences.

I totally agree, and I've had a few life lessons that taught me the same thing. Couple of times I thought my life was on cruise control, and it changed abruptly. In 1985, I was happily married to a wonderful woman, we had a great little starter home and 2 wonderful cats.... making plans for law school, working for a consulting engineers' firm for the summer... June 28th, 10:30 AM, my leg was crushed by a backhoe.

Long story short.... in the hospital almost 2 months, somehow managed to keep the leg. Hundreds of hours of rehab over the next year or two; a year before I could walk again, several more before I would walk more than a few minutes at a time. Lost my career, my marriage, my home, even the cats eventually. Homeless for a while, crippled all the time...

Built up another life over the years, one that didn't include law school, my first wife, or my starter cats. Had a great career (2 or 3 of 'em, really), had some incredible relationships.... met and married the most completely amazing human being I've ever known.... won't get into details, because I don't want to sound like I'm boasting, but it very much worked out OK, because sometimes life just does that.

But the takeaway from that was that at any given moment, when you feel life is good, or decent, or wonderful, or even just tolerable... no matter how happy you feel, something may be 5 seconds away from you that you have no way of knowing about, that will leave you looking back at that moment for decades as the last moment in your life that you were truly happy. A backhoe, a fall down the stairs, a car runnning a red ight, a motorcycle accident, a stroke.... a million things. So don't waste. A. Moment.

Ever.

Point is, I totally get where you're coming from, and absolutely understand what you're saying.
You're a survivor. Some people never get past being a victim. It's when you turn that corner from victim to survivor that you begin to rebuild your life. You did a great job of it. Sometimes those around you aren't the right answer. You have to start all over again. You did, and you're the winner. Just learning to be open about the things that mold us is what helps us heal even more, and understand just how darned lucky we actually are.
 

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