I once lived in Madison, Wisconsin for a time, which was almost lovely, except that it wasn’t. When Jack and I moved there from CA, some people told us beforehand, “Madison is great. It’s like the Berkeley of the Midwest.” I suppose, if Berkeley could exist anywhere but Berkeley, or if the Midwest could dare try to have a Berkeley, then maybe, just maybe, it could be Madison. I doubt it. Perhaps the Berkeley doppelganger task is simply an impossible one. Where else could a Berkeley outside of Berkeley exist–Miami?
Actually, in many ways, but for the non-Midwestern-ness of it, Miami might have been better for a place that is the “Berkeley of the Midwest” because at least there is cultural and ethnic diversity in Miami. In 1999, when Jack and I lived there, Madison had little diversity, save for the few international students at the University or the other few people of color I saw during my year there. I hated the Midwestern vanilla of it all, the lack of color (skin and otherwise), and the lack of difference, cultural and so on. One other thing I hated about Madison, which I knew but didn’t know deeply (until my freezing bones started to break after my first winter day) is exactly how truly bone-breakingly cold it is there. To emphasize: it was freezingly cold, incomprehensible, even. People had warned me, but I guess I put more weight into the optimistic “Berkeley of the Midwest thing” than I did the “It’s cold there” warning. I shouldn’t have. (Fortunately, I didn’t actually break any bones there. I was just being dramatic.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve lived in the Bay Area for several years and I can vouch for the fact that the Bay Area does get quite cold, too, though nowhere near the horrifying cold it is in Wisconsin. Supposedly, Mark Twain once said the coldest winter he ever spent was a “summer in San Francisco.” Spell-check assures me that San Francisco is its valid spelling. For some reason, I doubted myself and looked it up, just to be sure. (Sometimes spell-check is wrong about its own spelling –albeit rarely-so it cannot always be trusted.) However, I double checked because it looked weird to me. My own deep investigative research informs me that my spelling of San Francisco is, indeed, how it is spelled. Not only that, but others over time have struggled with that very same question. Who knew?
Finally, once I knew how to spell San Francisco, out of curiosity and an urge to confirm the truth, it turns out that Mark Twain never said that at all (that the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco). At some point, it was incorrectly attributed to Twain, and is repeated time and time again (hence the use of the word “repeated,” which negates the need for the tagged along ‘time and time again.’ I liked it though, so tough).
Mark Twain, Jooin 
A random James Quinn (Ancestry site)
My diligent research suggests that the true origin of this non-Twain statement is as follows. The summer in San Francisco quote “dates back to 1879, when London actor James Quinn, after being asked if he had ever seen such a bad winter in Paris, replied, “Yes, just such a one last summer!” according to the Duluth News Tribune and supported by many others. (See, not just an amusing blog- but educational as well). If you doubt me (why would you?), you can look it up yourself, of course. Just be careful not to reverse the name James Quinn, or else you will find yourself stepping into the unpleasant discovery of a man, Quinn James, who was accused of rape. Later, the bastard murdered the girl who had accused him. She was 16 years old. You may then be pleased, if not delighted, to learn that Mr. James was then sentenced to life without parole. I know I was. (Delighted to learn about his life sentence, I mean, not that Quinn raped the young woman in the first place.)
I understand that you may be asking, “Ms. Quill, whatever does that have to do with Madison, Wisconsin?” Bear with me, young grasshopper; I shall, indeed lead you back to the path. The point of all of this is that London actor, James Quinn (not the rapist Quinn James), wrote a letter saying that such a bad winter was actually a summer in San Francisco, which was then attributed to Mark Twain. Further, the Bay Area can indeed get very cold (as evidenced by the James Quinn-not-Twain quotation). Millions of under-dressed tourists have learned that the hard way when they go to visit the San Francisco Bay Area, too. I regret it will be many millions fewer this year, thanks to our buddy COVID-19. And, finally, you’ve learned that Quinn James was a bad guy. Educational and interesting. (You’re welcome.)
To return to Madison: I would now like to offer you three more reasons I disliked it. A taxi driver once told me (there was no Über then), that the only thing worse than a Wisconsin winter, which we have already established was pretty bad, was a Wisconsin summer. He was right. Humidity sucks! I left Madison after one year, and who can blame me?
The second reason we were quite happy to leave Madison was due to its racism and hatred. I didn’t actually experience racism, personally, but I did see hatred. In my experience, Madison had a homophobic and hateful approach to many things. (It was 20 years ago, so I hope it has changed since. I am speaking of then, though, since that’s all I have to go by). For example, just after the “Welcome to Madison” sign, the very next sign was “God Hates Gays” — or maybe it was “Got Hates Fags,” which is even worse. Either way it is horrible, and not at all particularly welcoming! Further, since that sign immediately followed the “Welcome to Madison” one, I knew right away that Madison is also a liar. Berkeley of the Midwest? Hardly.
A second example of things to strongly dislike about the Midwest comes from a story from a person I worked with. This would be hearsay in a court of law, but it does capture the feeling of my next point quite well. Also, since we aren’t in a court of law, I will share it with you. Here goes: My colleague told me about her father-in-law, who had the nerve to actually go through her wallet. I hate him already, though not nearly as much as the rapist/murderer we met earlier. Whilst going through her wallet, the father-in-law discovered that she dared to have a credit card. (Oh, the horrors!). The ridiculous father-in-law told my colleague’s husband that he should take his wife’s credit card away from her and destroy it, because credit cards are “tools of the devil.” Wow. The husband did not destroy her credit card, which is a plus for him. Then again, the fact that he didn’t destroy the credit card might not really deserve a plus. It’s a little like brushing your teeth (or now, in Covid, wearing a mask). It’s just what you should do.
On the other hand, when I think about some of the excessive Covid shopping I have done online, especially if it’s on Amazon, I might need to step back a minute. Maybe the father-in-law had a point. Maybe credit cards are, indeed, tools of the devil. I retract my statement. I’d say I owe the father-in-law an apology, but I can’t because his looking-through-her wallet thing is unforgivable.
Maybe credit cards are, indeed, tools of the devil.
Now that we’ve looked at other people looking at other people’s wallets, with your permission, let me please continue. I also despised the driving style and its pedestrian-hating approach, both in Madison, and in the Midwest in general. In California, we are lucky enough to have a culture that takes it as a given that humans on foot (aka, pedestrians) should trump those humans enclosed in thousands of pounds of steel. We have crosswalks. In California, pedestrianns–and pedestriandys—take precedence over vehicles. This is as it should be, I think, just like protecting those more vulnerable to Corona, oh, and generally all people by wearing masks. Running over a person (or being run over) would be a horrible thing for both parties. Crosswalks, please, Madison. Oh, and remove the unwelcoming, homophobic, lying sign while you are at it!
In spite of its unique kind of Madison weirdness, (e.g., welcome signs followed by hateful, homophobic ones, fathers-in-law looking through purses and what not), there were a few things I really liked about Madison, Wisconsin. Except for the wallet-credit-card guy, I thought the people I met were mostly nice, mostly friendly, and I enjoyed their Midwestern accents that also sound Canadian. (I know people rave about the cheese in Wisconsin, but I couldn’t get behind “cheese curds, sorry.) The fall leaves were beautiful. I loved that. Ah, and the custard! Wisconsin has the best frozen custard in the world! Before Madison, I had never eaten frozen custard and it is, indeed, more than quite extraordinary). I still can’t understand why frozen custard hasn’t become “a thing” outside of the Midwest. It really, truly should. Especially in Berkeley. Scratch that, in Berkeley a dairy and gluten free version would have to be invented, of course. I suspect that coconut-milk-algae frozen custard might not be as good as regular, dairy frozen custard. (I’m just guessing, but you agree with me, right?)
Another thing, also food related, that I really liked about Madison, and Wisconsin generally, is that those very kind people seem to think that cookies are a perfectly reasonable thing to serve at a breakfast meeting. (Unlike the cheese curd situation, I agree with this idea wholeheartedly). Before Madison, I didn’t know that cookies are just the thing for breakfast meetings, because I had never experienced breakfast cookies at meetings! It seems like a great idea, and how did we Californians miss that? Of course cookies can be served as breakfast for breakfast meetings! They can! They should!
Cookies: YES! 
Cheese Curds: NO!
If it weren’t for two of its four seasons (winter and summer), its homophobic welcome sign, its racism and religious weirdos, Wisconsin’s frozen custard and the breakfast cookies would almost make Madison worth going back to. Almost.
Berkeley, on the other hand, is open-minded, artistic, anti-war, pro-diversity, pro-vegan, pro-gluten free, pro-culture, pro-education, pro-intelligence, and all of the things that make a magnificent city magnificent. Even though Berkeley doesn’t have frozen custard (a dairy free/algae-based kind or otherwise), when it comes down to Berkeley vs. Madison, Berkeley wins hands down.
