Dancing and Dipping...

It was a marvelous, magical evening in the Undred Acre Woods By The Inland Sea this Saturday past. Two of our nephews were coming up to camp, and brought some girlfriends and other buddies. The nephews enjoy coming up here to hunt, camp, and just get away from their daily stress. Steve and Edward are both brothers and friends, and a couple of wonderful young men as well. Whenever they come up, they always think to invite us along, no matter the events. When some of your family are also your friends, it makes for a great relationship!

Steven Claus

This weekend adventure saw Edward flying solo, and Steve with his girlfriend, Tiffany, and her BFF Casey with hubby Dave. What a fun crew to hang with! We declined the invite to go tubing down the river, but did meet up with them for dinner. Rosie's Place is an unassuming Northern Michigan eatery of the finest kind. Knotty Pine walls with mirrors that proclaim the bestest ever NASCAR drivers, and the obligatory beer posters complete the decor. The service is only moderately slow, but always friendly, and the food is quite tasty. One of the many reason reasons why we enjoy Rosie's is their typical "Up North" portion control of the foods. In other words, if you don't take home some for another complete meal, the portions are way too small! Any wonder why I'm so overweight then?

Rosie's is well known for making a great pizza, and walloping huge wet burritos, but this night was Prime Rib night! Oh yeah... nothing like a huge hunk of cow on my plate to me smile! As we tuck into our food, amidst some pitchers of beer, and laughter about the day's adventures, it was a very enjoyable time. And then the magic begun...

Edward Ho Ho Ho!

There is a Dance Stage at one end of the room, complte with a DJ setup. Happily it wasn't Karaoke Knight (for which we were extremely grateful), but it time to trip the light fantastic for a bit. At first Mr DJ played some Hip Hop stuff, and Tiffany and Casey stumbled a bit thru a couple of songs. Mr. DJ, however, wisely switched to some more Classic Rock., and I got up to join the girls. So yup, me and two beautiful babes on the Dance Floor, how awesome is that? Mr DJ even has special effects and a light show to make the mood more conducive to moving your bod. And the aforementioned spin master had the very good sense to not blast our ears as if we were at a concert. Sure Rock is meant to be played loud, but I don't need my ears to bleed afterward.

After the three of stumbles thru some more songs, and some more beer, we took a short break, to drink more beer. *chuckle* Then the magic truly was kicked up a notch as the music became perfect for some nice slow dancing... I grab Barb by the hand and she begins to protest that she doesn't know how... pwah! Hey, I'm Old School, and you'll be just fine my dear... and she was! We must have been on that floor for another hour or so... not really sure who else was, or wasn't with us... just Barb and I, bodies next to each other, swaying in the breeze, or I would gently guide her thru a few easy and fun steps... just looking into her eyes, and my heart melting all over again.. yes, this *is* magic my friends!

But soon enuff we both have to pay homage to our bladders, and then drink more beer... well, time to wrap up a lovely evening with old, and new friends, and homewards we head. When we get there, Barb announces that she is gonna get us some towels, and we're going swimming! It was well past dark, and quite warm and balmy out, so how could I resist? So quickly down to our beach, shuck off the clothes, (well completely off for me, Barb stayed in skivvies n bra) and into the warm, inviting water. Just as we start to splash a bit, and feel like teenagers at the prom, I spot some headlights coming down our drive! Ack! "Barb, headlights!!" I blurt out as I try to scramble back towards to shore in a soon to be thwarted attempt to get my clothes. "It's ok, it's the nephews and their friends" she quickly retorts. "You'll be fine. Besides, you're Old School, remember?" this as she smiles and starts to laugh a bit.

I breathe a sigh of relief, then decide what the heck? There's no Moon out, and we are having fun after all. Sure enough, soon there a splashing party of naked and mostly naked bodies in the water, all enjoying themselves merrily. So I guess you say that we all truly bared ourselves to each other that festive night, and what a way to do it! After some more merriment, Barb and I wade back to shore, and towel off to redress. The kids weren't too far behind, and they even invited us to stay and (can you guess?) drink more beer with them. As much fun as that sounded, we knew it was time for Mom & Dad to go upstairs, and let the kids play by themselves *chuckle*

So yes, another late Summer's eve of magic, with family and friends, love and laughter. These are the events that bring such joy to us all.

A Steak Fry, and Fruit Flies...

Yes, it's true, a Steak Fry at the local fairgrounds, and a plethora of fruit flies in your kitchen, can mean only one thing. Those hot, hoomid, sweltering "daze" of Summer is coming to an end. Oh sure, Old Man Summer still has us in his sweaty grip, but make no mistake. Those fingers are getting more and more arthritic by the day.

It's now August up here in Northern Michigan, and the days still deepen into a long evening that only truly becomes night well past 10:00pm. But August also heralds the arrival of a certain local fair, and Onekama Days has the best Steak Fry ever! My beloved wife and I make this annual trek to the Fairgrounds with my brother, and enjoy some of the best cow ever served. Yes, we truly are Meatatarians!

The Onekama (go ahead, try and pronounce it, I dare ya) Lions are well known for this celebration of carnivorous catering. The proceeds go to the local Lion's Club (which does a wonderful job of supporting the community), and you see people from all over. And all kinds of people. Oh yes... our local village has many different local characters, and they *all* come to dine together this evening! From the table of Mohawk Hairdo's (Dad and Mom, all the kids) to the local gentry, and even the few Northern Michigan Dufus  that you just can't believe are really out of jail. Yet, here we all sit, behind a paper plate, merrily sawing into a quite tender steak, with plastic knives and forks.

The steak is roughly the size of the state of Rhode Island, and you can barely squeeze your baked potato (roughly the size of Delaware) next to it. Oh sure you also get a cuppa salad and a roll, even dessert if you wish. But here, for this evening, it's all about the steak! As we happily masticate our meat, we all agree that it must have come from a very happy cow. A cow that was proud to give it's life for such a noble endeavor as helping our Onekama (no, it's not One Comma) Lion's to raise muchly needed dollars for their various projects. In this time of a depressed economy, every organization is feeling the pinch. Most people are cutting back on their donations to charities, just like the governments have cut back on their services. But this magical evening, people come from far and wide, all to help a local charity, and (mostly) to eat a really good steak, at a really good price!

Ahhh.. with our paper plates polished off, and in the trash, we bid a fond adieu to the Onekama (ok, it's pronounced Oh-neck-a-ma) Lion's and drop my brother off at his apartment. Homeward we go, and home we arrive. I saunter (well, after all that steak, I really waddle, but who's to say?) over to the fridge to capture a cold beer, and that's when it hits me. Look at all those fracking Fruit Flies! Blech.

Aye yup, another sure sign of this August month... the bountiful blighters breed like bodacious bunnies in heat! Sigh. There's just *nothing* you can do! Maybe if we had central air conditioning we could keep them at bay, but like most true Northern Michiganders, we only permit one AC unit in our bedroom. Which means those tiny harbingers of doom and disease can simply flit thru the screens and invade our kitchens like a horde of ravenous porn stars in search of lube and a flat surface! Oh gawd, they are just disgusting. (No, I mean the fruit flies now) No matter how clean you keep the place, they just always overpopulate, every end of Summer. And they will claim your kitchen as their very own, until just before LadyBug Season.

Oh sure you can make sure there are NO dirty dishes, glasses, cups, or forks on the counter, and still they will find a way to permeate your favorite room. You even move the kitchen trash container out to the deck so the ugly little blighters will filthily procreate out there. Until you want to sit out and enjoy the sunset. Yuck.

But, ok. There you have it, don't you? You just figure out how to deal with them. It's just another annual event, much like steak night in Onekama (you do know how to pronounce it now, don't you?). And really, you realize that, it's alright. Sometimes Life gives you steak, and sometimes you get fruit flies. But really, it's just good to be alive, and be in a position that allows you to be thankful for both. Oh sure you really, really hate those little blighters, but in the end, are they really so terrible? They'll go away in a bit, and hey, you just had a great steak!

Fantastic Falcons Fly Forever

What? Another boring High School Reunion, that serves only to remind you of the people you didn't like, and still don't care for? Nope! Quite the opposite in fact. Yup, I just went to a very fun and festive picnic, where a few of us from the very old days got together and had a terrific time!

Yes, that's me in my finery on the left...
As usual (at least for me) it starts with a rather lengthy journey, by car, to drive down and across my state for a bit over four hours, to meet up with this gang. I'm not really sure how we all found each other (lo these many years later) on FaceBook, but I have a sneaking suspicion that our dear Faye was behind it. They do refer to it as "FayeBook" after all *chuckle*.

So downstate I go, check into the hotel, and then Faye picks me up to continue on to the picnic. The picnic was at Stony Creek Metro Park, and we had a beautiful spot on the lake. This was mostly due to Faye, who camped out at our spot since the wee hours, and refused to let anyone else in! She even had signs made up, and organized the event. Yup, our dear Faye is a mover and shaker for sure!

Upon entering the park, I was rather amazed at all the various signs for many different functions! Guess the last Saturday in July is a busy time there. But she expertly guided us to the correct picnic site (after expertly guiding us to every red light on the roads to there), and voila! Tables of food that would have impressed visiting Royalty, and a Margaritaville table as well! Plus, with a 100ft extension cord going to the bathroom, we had a blender, and a music box. (Thanx to Mark & Sarah!) On the right is Jerry and his bride Debbie, better folk you will never meet!

As soon as I clamber out of her large-as-a-living-room-sized van, I am greeted by a bevy of beautiful women, and hugs all around. Oh yes, it's good to be the Jamie :) Some of the group I had seen recently, some I hadn't seen for a few decades. My gawd, are we getting old or what? But no matter what our bodies tell us, we all feel quite young and energized on this fine day.

I was put in charge of grilling the hot dogs, so naturally I had to have a beer first ;)  And get caught up with some folks. But after Faye nearly had an apoplectic fit at some unsuspecting driver which had the nerve to run over one of her signs, I wisely decide to start the fire and get the dogs a roasting.

So yes, the food... what a glorious spread! The gals really outdid themselves this time. We had at least three tables laden with a banquet, along with the Margaritas, and plenty of beer all around. In other words, we had a great time! We all kinda milled around, swapping stories, and laughing along with each other. Really, rather amazing as some of us didn't  hang out together back in the day. And some brought their kids along, which was a wonderful surprise. All the little, and some not so little, ones enjoyed themselves as Mom, or Dad, was busy with the other so-called adults.

So here we are, some 35 years or so later, around a picnic table, sometimes huddled under umbrellas, and just enjoying being with those people. I doubt that any of us back then would have predicted such a thing. Some of the gang didn't stray far from home, and settled down, post college (or not college) and entered the time honored tradition of having families. Some of us went afar, looking for our fortunes across this vast land.  Yet here we all were, for just one afternoon, together after all the years and miles. Together after all the anguish, and the triumphs. Content and happy to merely enjoy being with such select company, and share stories. Yes, the stories were all what you might expect to hear. But they were stories of a real, identifiable, person, not just words in a sentence to be discarded after reading. Sure we shared our pain as we felt appropriate, but mostly we shared our joy, and our love. I think that honestly sharing love, can be even more of a challenge than sharing the pain, but this group was well up to the task. These are the afternoons that make a rather mundane day become so brilliant! This day was one to be enjoyed by us, and just for our time together, to be loved by each other.

Chicken pecking, and scratching, and dropping... Oh my!

Considering that it's still a quite beautiful Summertime in The Hundred Acre Woods By The Inland Sea, every quaint and bucolic village and town is still hosting our Northern Michigan variety of Arts & Crafts Shows, or Farts & Craps depending on the subjective level of quality of the items.

This weekend past was no exception, and being the loyal Michiganders that we are, Barb and I obligingly set off to wander thru a couple of them. It was a hot July mid Summer's late afternoon when we hooked up the team of gerbils to our wagon and set out. Tally Ho! ...and off to Frankfort, for a lovely time of looking at all the various styles of "Beach Jewelry" each piece different, yet all alike. As we promenade along the concourse, dripping sweat and wishing for a breeze, we happily run into friends and acquaintances. Dear Phyllis from Church wastes no time as she buries her nose in Barb's bags of goodies, and happily squeals "I just hafta see what's in there!". After passing inspection of our purchases, and the requisite chit chat, we amble along. We did manage to get some fun stocking stuffers for the kids, and even a birthday gift or two. That, combined with a nice, cold, ice cream treat pretty much made our time there worthwhile.

Thus we head our wagon home to drop off the goodies, and refresh ourselves (and the team of gerbils) before our next adventure.  Earlier in the day, Barb and I were at Krista LeAnn's in Bear Lake to get our hair trimmed (in my case) or cut and styled (in her case) and dear Krista filled our ears with stories of tonight's festivities in Kaleva. In most small villages, the local Hair Stylist is not only the best source of information, but usually is to be regarded as a type of rock star, for all her misadventures in life. And Krista is certainly the rock star of Bear Lake! The fact that she is as beautiful as she is friendly only helps to make her more so.  So, she simply insists that we go to Kaleva Days tonight, to hear her boyfriend's band.

Well, who are we to decline the offer of a rock star? So it's evening and off we go to Kaleva! Woot! Woot! Upon arrival, I decide that since it's my date, we would dine in the splendor of the local Lion's Club trailer. And gnosh well we did. I feasted upon a Sloppy Joe Dog (with chips!) while my bride made little work of a hot dog with sauerkraut. Yes, I pull out all the stops for my lovely wife. Then, into the Beer Garden we happily go... I offer to support the local Fire Department and purchase some wonderfully colf beer, and a non beer but had alcohol drink thingy for Barb.

We run into our dear rock star, and my goodness me, she certainly has been supporting the Fire Department as well! I am truly impressed with her level of devotion to civic duty, and her ability to form words without slurring. *chuckle* Hey, it's a Saturday night, and she can kick up her heels a bit if she wants too. Her boyfriend's band is playing, and so far no one has thrown anything at them, so Life is good. And then we turn around... and see the caged board. And the chicken coop next to it. And then the fun really begins!

I've seen a lot of things in my life, but this one refines my experience of living in Northern Michigan! Oh sure at every Festival is some way to win a Raffle, and the proceeds go to a local not-for-profit organization. sure the Fire Dept sells beer, or the local Lions Club raffles off a kayak. Sure those are nice ways for a group to raise money to continue to serve the community. But this, this my friends truly was the amazement of the night. The head of the Kaleva Beautification Team (which takes run down houses and renovates them) has a 3ft by 3ft board, and divided into squares. In each square is a number. You can bet on what number the chicken is gonna crap on! Oh. My. Gawd! Really! If the chicken craps on your number, then you win. Oh. My. Gawd. This was just too incredible! So imagine about 20 or so people standing around a cage, telling the chicken which number to drop it on, and other various remarks.  And of course, most of the aforementioned good folks were also verdant supporters of the Fire Department, so that just added a bit more, should we say colorful, commentary to the scratchings. I don't think we've ever enjoyed an evening quite like that in our lives! How long before it comes back?

Too Much Or Too Many?

Ahhh Summertime, and the living is easy, or so goes the old song. And for the most part, life in Northern Michigan is a breeze in the Summer. Any day without snow is a bonus! We live on the Big Waters of Lake Michigan, the clime this year has been flat lakes and warm temps... and then the family all gathers together. At the same time... Into one house.. That no otherwise sane person would attempt to pack that so people, and animals, under one roof, even at the Zoo!

We are very lucky and indeed fortunate, to live where we do. And we endure a very long Winter (usually snow on the ground for  5 months or so) to live for that brief phenomenon  known as Summer.  Which means we treasure when our friends, and family come to spend time with us in the warmer months.

Point of fact, we hold an annual July 4th BeachFire Bonanza and Fireworks Festival, that has been going on since 1976! It really has become something of a tradition here, and this year was no different.  This year, in fact, we had an amazing turnout of people. Boy howdy did we ever! In our modest home of two bedrooms (plus my small office) and two bathrooms, we housed nine adults, one baby and four dogs! Oh. My. Gawd. And we had various incarnations of family and friends for two weeks! Oh. My. Gawd.

Let's just say that my dear wife and I are not quite used to being so close to everyone. *chuckle* Usually we can spread everyone out into three homes here; ours, and a Beach Cottage, and a Farmhouse. The latter two we rent to vacationers by the week, but keep open on the week of 4th July for family. This year, however, people ended up coming up the week before the forth (when said domiciles were filled aforementioned renters, and yes more dogs), and therefore camped out with us.

Having to go around, under, over and through eight other people, plus four dogs, to take ten steps from the living room to the kitchen truly added some dimensions to the value of family closeness! Never mind my two kitties that were having psychological fits of terror at every turn. Then, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, a walloping huge Suburban pulls up, and I quip, "Gee, I hope they have a dog too!". Be careful what you ask for... yup more family, and with a 95 pound Chocolate Lab! Woo hoo! Let's get this party started! They were just passing thru, but did want to stop in say 'Howdy to everyone.

But just as every party has to end, even this adventure did as well. People started drifting back towards their various homes, and the renters (one set had five Cavaliers Spaniels), all departed as well. So then we could spread out again, desquishify, and breathe easier. Believe me, when we all had to synchronize our exhalations it got a bit tight at the shoulders. I did once remark that I was going to put up a Used Car Lot sign, and offer a free dog with every purchase, but was somehow turned down by the rest of the family. Apparently they didn't see the value of my economic indicators, but that was probably just as well. I would have missed those cars.

So now back to the rest of Summer, the usual chores and jobs of carrying on. We truly love hosting our family here, but even when over run, we still have three homes to maintain, and all our usual activities to perform. They get to go to the beach and play, and we wouldn't ever have it any other way! So as masochistic as it sounds, yup, we miss them all!

   

It's a Parade!

There are few times in my memory when an entire community has gathered together to say "Thank you, and well done!" to somebody that truly deserves it. This evening was a sterling example of why I choose to live in this community.

Life in Bear Lake, Michigan is an experience to savor, and has a charm that touches all who journey thru here. This is a very small (well, ok, it's teeny tiny) village and township in the upper left hand corner of the lower peninsula of our state. To call it Americana would only trivialize the beauty of our area, and our many varied neighbors and friends. One of those neighbors, and personal friends, is a truly great man, that goes by the name of Fred Alkire.

Fred may only reach a few inches over five feet in height, but his stature is that of a gentle giant. He has held many titles in his life, but would be quick to point out that husband and father are the most important ones. He held many jobs, each one to serve his community, and family, rather than chase after the almighty dollar. He is the kind of man that makes you feel good about yourself, while you try to improve who you are. His easy smile, and unassuming ways belie the true warrior that he is. You don't bullshit Fred Alkire, and he doesn't give any. He is as honest as the day is long, and will be there for you till the cows come home.

This weekend is a celebration of our bucolic village. Oh sure every little village and town throws itself a party in the Summer, but that's part of why we love it so much. During Bear Lake Days, on Saturday evening, we have a parade. Our local Boy Scout Troop is always in the parade, and we have a lot of fun. For many years, Barb and I (as Assistant Scout Leaders) would trod along with our little troop, and watch as these young boys would magically become sterling examples of young men. And all the while, our Scout Leader, year in, and year out, for five decades, was that same man; Fred Alkire! He has an astonishing record in Scouting, having sponsored 44 Eagle Scouts, and also having been at Scout Camp for some 38 years in a row! This man first guided young boys into Eagle Scouts the same year that Neil Armstrong trod upon the Moon. Along the way he also been instrumental in guiding the local government of our Township and Village, and has guided the community in much the same way as he has guided our boys. Fred never accepts anything less than your best, because that is just what he always gives back.

And tonight, our community did indeed give back! Fred, and his long time Assistant Scout Leader, Red (Yes, Fred and Red, it was quite a show) were the Grand Marshalls of the parade. And just behind that float were 22 of the 44 Eagle Scouts that graduated in his tenure! These young, and not so young, men came from all over America just to honor this one man. Fred truly stands as a giant. My life, and so many more, have been made better by his leadership, his devotion, and his love. God bless you Fred, I will always look up to you!    

Garden Gnomes and Morning Glories

Well, as you probably know well by now, I am no gardener. My beautiful wife, the well sainted Lady Barbara, is a wonderful gardener. And, truth be told, I am making a concerted effort to learn about flowers (apparently I like them), weeds (apparently not be confused with flowers) and other stuff (supposedly plants aren't supposed to die when you put them in the ground).

My reticence of gardening came no doubt from a highly traumatic childhood, and has left deep, psychological scars, that will doubtless take me decades (if ever) to recover from. Something about being required to remove certain types of plants (the aforementioned weeds) from the flower beds, without any description of which plant was what? Oh sure, I could pull a dandelion out, but that was pretty much the apex of my weed spotting ability. Despite my Dad's fairly firm insistence that I "know about weeds", back then the only weed I really knew anything about certainly didn't grow in our flower beds! So when Mom would come along to check on my progress, she would get just the teensiest bit testy as I had somehow pulled out half of her flowers. Hey, if the stoopid plant didn't have an actual flower on it, how was I supposed to know it wasn't a weed?

I remained in my happy ignorance of all things gardening for many decades, smugly appreciating a flower by sight, and realizing that I didn't need to learn anything else, save that it was pretty, and occasionally smelled good. All that changed about a decade ago when Barbara and I got together. She has a stunning rock garden, that she dutifully tends to, and produces many wonderful swatches of color, and scent. And she also keeps a Hosta bed, with flowers, under the huge Maple tree in the front yard. She has always maintained that I don't need to assist her in these areas, and I happily accepted that point of view for many years. Except that she also has this habit of asking me for my opinion. Like which flower should go where? Well, that just put my foot on a slippery slope of asking for more information, so that I could give her my learned opinion on something about which I knew absolutely nothing. See how she sucked me in? As if appealing to my testosterone driven ego wasn't enough, then she slyly appealed to my sense of achievement. "Isn't there anything that you would like to see?", she oh so innocently, asked me one warm, balmy day. "What's your favorite flower?" she continued. My first response was to quickly look at the garden, and blurt out whatever was the first flower I saw. Apparently "A Rose?" wasn't the correct answer. So, I finally had to admit that I really do like Morning Glories. Yes, an ironic answer from a Night Owl such as myself, but they have a brilliant and deep hue that fairly resonates with beauty and passion. Oh. Oops, now guess who gets to plant the aforementioned Morning Glories, and hope they live? Aye yup, you got it in one. And thus began my eventual decline into the current state of Still Not A Gardener But Know Just Enough To Kill Any Plant I Touch.

And now you know why I have been planting, and killing Morning Glories, for the past few years. Well sure, there was that one year when they grew up from a huge bucket on the driveway, at the sunniest corner of our house, ("Oh sure they'll be fine there, you did read up on them, didn't you?") up past the garage, and stretching ever yet higher to our deck above and then making a neat ninety degree turn to run along the eaves. I had installed some small diameter PVC piping left over from a recent plumbing disaster, and fishing line to "train" (yeah right, how the hell do you train a plant? It's not like the thing is ever gonna "Sit", or "Fetch". But they do "Play Dead" quite well) Miss Gloria on where to go. That Summer I had the longest vine of flowers I had ever seen. As opposed to the nicely rounded bushes of Morning Glories that I saw in all the catalogs.  The problem was that Miss Gloria would only flower in about three foot sections along the vine, then those blooms would die, and after a bit, another three foot section further up the line would bud and bloom? 

I have thus decided that Gardening is simply a series of digging holes to put plants into. Said plants can come from either the Nursery (which  apparently isn't where the baby sleeps) or from another spot in your yard. When these brightly colored flowers come from the nursery, they can cost as much as a baby, but don't cry as often. When they come from a different spot in your yard, then you dig them up, and put them into some other holes. Plus you put a bunch of stuff in with them. I still don't know the difference between Potting Soil, Potting Mixture, Compost +Potting Something Or Other, and dirt. Then you hafta put a bunch of this stuff into the other holes, so that you can put some other plants into them as well. After which, you need to go dig up more spots in your yard (apparently all this is easier than simply mowing the lawn, or so I have it on good authority) because now you need to "add some variety". I think I'll just take a picture of a Garden Gnome, and call it good. Oh, and all the pretty flowers in the pictures are from Barb's Rock Garden, which is why you don't see any Morning Glories...