From the editor's desk: The Wisconsin Goodbye

By Sarah Nigbor
Posted 9/4/24

Have you ever heard of the term “the Minnesota Goodbye?” It should also be called the Wisconsin Goodbye, because it’s just as prevalent here and I honestly cannot stand it. …

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From the editor's desk: The Wisconsin Goodbye

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Have you ever heard of the term “the Minnesota Goodbye?” It should also be called the Wisconsin Goodbye, because it’s just as prevalent here and I honestly cannot stand it. It’s a long, drawn-out experience when trying to leave an event or end a phone call that, according to an article on Odyssey.com, “painfully and uncomfortably extends the process of saying goodbye.” It’s much longer than it needs to be. 

If you’re a frequent reader of this column, you know I’m not a patient person. I’ve gotten better in my middle age, but I still feel impatience creep up my spine and into my brain when something is taking too long. Especially when it’s clear that I am in a hurry and the person I’m talking to either is oblivious or just doesn’t care. I truly don’t mean to be rude, so I hope no one thinks that of me. I just have such a tight timeline sometimes that I have to maximize each minute of the day. I also consider myself an efficient person and I don’t like unnecessary small talk that is only meant to fill time.

My mother (love you Mom, and I know you’ll read this) is the Queen of the Long Goodbye. She will tell me she needs to get going on the phone, then ask me at least six more questions and 20 minutes later, she finally relents and lets me go. The same is true when leaving her house, though I’m slowly training her. Now it takes only about 10 minutes to get out the door and into the car. I’ve learned to start the process early.

If you’re still unsure of what I’m talking about, see if these steps (again from Odyssey.com) seem familiar to you.

  1. The 'We Should Probably Think About Heading Out' Sigh: This first stage merely starts the process of leaving whatever event or gathering you're at. Don't think you're actually going to be leaving anytime soon, though.
  2. The First Round of Hugs: This round usually involves a loving hug from those relatives or friends from whom you're trying free yourself.
  3. The Walk To The Door: Once the first round of hugs is done, you're then free to move closer to the door. Now, you won't be able to open it and walk through it just yet, but at least you've made progress by walking to the door.
  4. The Doorway Chat: Now that you've moved at least closer to the door, you can move the goodbye conversation along, as well. A reference to whatever weather is occurring outside is usually included here.
  5. The 'We Really Should Be Going:' Once you've discussed the weather, among other things, in the doorway, once you utter this phrase, it's time to actually move the proceedings out into the driveway. It’s OK to shake your keys here or check your phone/watch for the time.
  6. The Hand On the Door Knob: This is the official signal that the Minnesota Goodbye is about to move out of the house, through the door, and out into the driveway. It's an important step, but you're not done yet!
  7. The Driveway Open Conversation: Once you've actually moved into the driveway, you can't just get into the car and go... you're now required to have another conversation, perhaps about your car, what traffic will be like on your way home, or another reference to the weather.
  8. The Second Round of Hugs: Now that it's becoming apparent that, yes, you actually ARE leaving, the Minnesota Goodbye wouldn't be complete without at least one more embrace among each other.
  9. The Window Wave: Once you've successfully gotten in your car, you're almost on your way. Except for this last step that involves a quick wave out the window (or in the back window) as you slowly begin to drive away. Our family also includes an obnoxious horn honking ritual along with waving our arms off.

The window wave will always hold a special place in my heart, even for this impatient crabapple. I can still see Grandma and Grandpa waving at the window as I waved back. They never missed a window wave. And now I never do either.

I value my boss John and my best friend Derek. Both men say what they need to say on the phone, then promptly hang up without further ado. With Derek, I can literally say, “OK, I have to go,” he’ll say “OK” and we hang up immediately.

And so end this column. Quickly and succinctly.




Wisconsin Goodbye, From the editor's desk, Sarah Nigbor, column