July 6 2009

WHEN BAMBI ATTACKS!

Last night I went disc golfing with Larry, owner of Worry Free Satellites (www.worryfreetv.net) , and Pete, owner of an infectious laugh, at the new course at Deerfield Park – just a few miles West of Mt. Pleasant on M-20. This course is in the woods and tough – my best score is 6 over par – last night I shot a +7……on the first hole…ouch. But the reason for this post is what happened on hole 13. Steadying for my approach shot I caught glimpse of two fawns who weren’t happy to see me. They were tiny (a little taller than knee high) but as they charged I saw murder in their eyes. For a brief moment I was kissing goodbye and chance of future little roadpoet’s ever being born. Just steps before ramming me to the ground they turned and shot into the woods. Just before I lost sight of them I caught one looking back, as if laughing and mocking me. Looking back I believe I learned one thing from the bambi episode: next time I should RUN AWAY!

COPS & DOUGHNUTS

For the past week I’ve been dying to check out the donut shop in Clare, which is owned by cops. Seriously! I know you don’t want to believe me, so check it out for yourself (www.copsdoughnuts.com) . I’m a bit of a doughnut connoisseur, having worked at the home of the best doughnuts in the state: Sweetwater’s Donut Mill in Kalamazoo (www.sweetwatersdonuts.com), so I prepared to ‘take one for the team’ and suffer through eating a donut or two for the sake of this review. For $1.25 I left with a fritter and a glazed cake donut= A+ for affordability! They had no T-shirts in my size= C (new order of shirts coming in July 11^th). The fritter wasn’t anything special, although I’m not a fritter guy so realistically it could have been the best fritter in the world and I wouldn’t know it. The glazed cake doughnut was a marvelous surprise-very fluffy, and thicker than most places. In fact it was the best coffee dipping cake doughnut I’ve had to date, so overall rating on doughnuts B+. By the way even though every donut I’ve had at Sweetwater’s has been excellent, the crème de le crème is their Apple Crumb donut.

GLASS MOSAIC HOUSE

I’ve driven past this odd little glassy, shiny house many times while travelling M-20 between Mt. Pleasant & Midland. So today I checked it out, and it happens to be a John Pratt House (www.creativespiritcenter.org/john_pratt.htm) . The exterior is covered with mosaics made mostly from broken porcelain & glass, with bottle caps and other things thrown in. Pictures at www.facebook.com/roadpoet . As I circled the house snapping photos I was constantly getting bit by mosquitoes, but I never saw them. At one point I held my arm in front of me and even though I kept getting bit I never saw anything-no mosquito, no bug, nothing. So it’s either the return of the karma bugs from last July or Mr. Pratt’s ghost was playing games with me. I don’t care to seek the truth on this one. Perhaps I was so tired from being up all night that I was ‘feeling things.’

SKYDIVING ATTEMPT #1

Driving back to Mt. Pleasant I decided to see if I could go skydiving since there was almost no clouds in the sky. I figured I was so tired that perhaps I would be less scared. I’m horrified by thought of skydiving, and I’m terrified of heights. So perhaps it’s a good thing that Central Michigan Skydivers (www.skydivecms.com/) was closed.

Total mileage: 92

WEEK 1 – Back from Mackinaw / Mackinac

One thing you have to do in Mackinaw City—no, not buy fudge (although you almost have to do that to!)—stop by the grocery store in town and purchase the latest copy of the Porcupine Press (www.upmag.net) . It’s well worth the four bucks, and even though I’ve seen it sold at many places North of Grayling, this is the only place that has always had it in stock (although on this trip I bought their last copy). It’s about 80 pages of full-color chicanery on newsprint. Think ‘The Onion’ meets ‘the U.P.’ I’d hate for you to pass up the opportunity to read about picking night crawlers, the new iBoob, the old fart gazette, or recipes for pasties & zippy onion relish. My particular favorite from this issue is a prayer: “Dear God: This year please send clothes for all those poor ladies in daddy’s computer” That about says it all….

I stopped in Clare (www.cityofclare.org) for dinner and walked right past the largest cock I’ve ever seen. A little place called Bob’s Lounge has a giant rooster out front, and inside the chicken is impressive too! A great place for a reasonably priced scrumptious meal if you’re ever in Clare. Living as close as I do, I’ll definitely be back. Thanks Bob!, if there really is a Bob behind all that chicken. Maybe I’ll meet him next time.

Making it back to Mt. Pleasant (www.mountpleasantwow.com)  in time to get thrown in a friend’s pool, towel dried, and thrown in again; then dive-bombed by a mosquito family reunion while disc golfing, I met friends and the masses upon the hill at Mid Michigan Community College (www.midmich.cc.mi.us)  to watch the fireworks across the road at the Soaring Eagle Casino & Resort (www.soaringeaglecasino.com) . Now I grew up around Bay City (www.tourbaycitymi.org) and learned to appreciate a well-developed quality fireworks show, but these were free (Bay City now charges a $1 donation) and outstanding! Did I mention they were free, oh yeah I guess I did.

WEEK 1 RECAP so far: (1) marriage proposal from a stranger; (8) miles of island running; ($free) firework show; (2) times getting thrown in a pool; (1) loud muffler; ($212) for new muffler and exhaust; (8-10) Asians w/o cameras; (1) giant rooster; (17) mosquito bites; too much time on facebook; (1) sports injury-will update status next week; (352) miles travelled—a pretty uneventful first week.

WEEk 1 – Here We Go Again!

Not yet forty and I’ve worked over 50 different jobs. During the summer of 1993 I worked as a busboy on Mackinac Island (www.mackinacisland.org) . It was probably the best (fell in love with poetry) & worst (my anti-social addictive behaviors skyrocketed) summer of my life. The Island is one of those magical places where it feels like everything in the world stops for a moment and breathes in its serene surroundings and silky air. So when I was considering where to start year 2—The Island was the only choice that came to mind.

I arrived in Mackinaw City (www.mackinawcity.com) late in the day, so I bedded down in the old Travel Lodge—now called Great Lakes Inn: A quaint 46-room hotel on the South edge of town owned by a friendly German couple. The week day rates are great-I stayed 2 nights and the total was just under $100, and the gal running the place (Allison) was knowledgeable, friendly and very helpful.

Upon arrival in town I quickly learned that a lot of the young employees schlepping fudge, taffy, and t-shirts, are here on work visas—which leaves a bittersweet residue on my palate. I spoke briefly with one such worker and learned she was hoping to stay in America, hoping to find a husband. *Tada* instant marriage-just add one knucklehead. And right on cue – I walked in. I spent this week researching ‘marriage fraud’ and deciding the only way I’d marry this girl is if we actually become husband and wife. Hey, why not? Like marriages here work out very often the old-fashioned way. Not knowing each other before getting married might actually give us a chance, right? But, alas, it was not meant to be-she is looking into other options. If I was her and there was an option other than attaching for life to this often offbeat stranger I’d go for it too! I guess I need to cancel my reservations at the chapel in Las Vegas. Does God do refunds?

So free from the chains of marriage I snuck off to view the sunset at my secret place-a rock, a couple miles West of Mackinaw City. Watching the sunset here is worth the trip, even if you do nothing else while there. Directions: follow the main street (Central) West out of town. The road ends in a ‘T’ – turn right and travel half a mile to the water’s edge. You can park there and see an excellent unadulterated view of the ‘Mighty Mac’ bridge to your right. Walk along the shoreline toward the bridge and you’ll find a huge rock jutting out of the water. Perch yourself atop the rock and watch the sun delve into the water—but first check the rock for current seagull whitewashing. Then…shh! Don’t tell anyone else about the spot—it’s a secret!

I made it to the Island the following day. Tips for the ferry ride—enroute to the island sit on the left, returning from the island sit on the right, and if the weather is friendly sit on the top deck. The ferry docked just before high noon, I ducked into a phone booth to change (ok it was the ferry companies’ bathroom) and headed out amidst the 90+ heat to run the 8 miles around the perimeter of the island. It was too hot for the run, and I was too stupid not to run, so I ran. And ran. And ran. At one point a nervous older lady smartly choosing to bike around, stopped and offered me water. Thank God for compassionate souls! The view around is worth the trip, but I recommend taking a bike. A special treat not on any of the maps is a couple miles in (travelling counter-clockwise from town)—where some kind spirit(s) have built rock formations on the shoreline—simply breathtaking and meditative.

A little over an hour later I was back at the center of town, having completed my idea of torturous fun, dripping sweat. Stripping down to bare feet and running shorts I snuck over to the marina, slipping past the boats and down a dock ladder to cool off in the pristine (read: chilly!) waters. And all was again right with the world.

If it’s your first trip and you can afford it I suggest spending a night on the island. I couldn’t and didn’t, but the night-life on the island is something to behold, containing a menagerie of calm cool night winds, bats battling for bugs, and musical entendres billowing from various bars. I suggest pizza at The Mustang (www.mustangonmackinac.com) , but the food is good everywhere.

If you stay the night in Mackinaw City, I recommend dining at Darrow’s Family Restaurant (www.darrowsrestaurant.com) , one of the few restaurants left which retains the taste and quality of down home cookin’. I stuffed myself too much on dinner, but have heard their pies redefine delicious—so save room.

Leaving Mackinaw City and heading South I was eventually drawn to the Michigan Welcome Center (www.michigan.org/Welcome-Centers/Default.aspx) . An oddity for the middle of the state, many miles from any other state border. But in case you were asleep at the wheel for the past several hours, then WELCOME TO MICHIGAN! Travelling along US-127, you’ll find it just North of the city of Clare. It’s basically a rest area injected with a plethora of information about Michigan. During business hours the information room is open and staffed by knowledgeable residents. Basically it has brochures for every city, county, entertainment site, roadside attraction, golf course, and camping ground in the state. If you arrive there with an idea of where you’re going make sure to tell the workers and they can point you to other nearby attractions, and maybe save you a few bucks. I asked about Mackinac Island and one worker handed me a coupon worth $3 off the price of the ferry (a bit of a bummer since I had already gone and was on my way from there). I did encounter a group of eight or ten Asian men and women, none of whom had a camera tethered around their necks—stereotypes be damned!

Road Poet’s Michigan Travelblog

So now that year 2 is upon us, I thought it might be time to change things up a bit.

I’m getting pretty sick of all the national news media slamming on Michigan. Companies are closing at record pace, unemployment is through the roof, foreclosures are becoming the norm, people are fleeing-seeking jobs in other states, and the overall mood about Michigan appears rather glum. But damnit I love Michigan! I’ve lived here all my life and I’ll be damned if the capitalists, politicians, and media will chase me out.

I’m determined to keep Michigan alive!

So this year as I travel around Michigan and share my sometimes humorous, sometimes down right absurd experiences–the focus will be on the people and places of Michigan that make this state so damn great!

That’s right—we’re bringing Michigan back! And I’m not above embellishing my stories a bit to keep you entertained. All I ask in return is that you reconsider everything you’re hearing about how our state is plummeting, and consider spending some of your green on the places and businesses that make Michigan the incredible state that it is!!!

I have no idea what experiences this year holds, where I will go next, or even what I’ll do when I get there. If you have any suggestions send them along.

And for those who missed last year here’s a very brief recap of some of its high (& low) points: suicidal bats, karma bugs, wild turkeys, getting chased by an entire church congregation, fudgies, the professional disc golf association’s world championship, taking a private jet to D.C., almost getting kicked off the private jet before even boarding the darned thing, rejection letters, fear, fear, and more fear, and oh yeah–living in a van.

Obviously I left a ton out from last year……….stay tuned for this year’s adventures……….

Too many projects!!!

I’ve been writing a ton lately, but been all over the place working on 4 separate projects.
1. The original story, book
2. The series of short poems
3. Book about how to change from the mindset of ‘ego’ to the mindset of ‘humility’
4. A travelblog with a roadpoet flare—to be housed right here!

It seems I need to focus my writing so #1 & #2 will be set aside until I get closer to finishing #3 & #4

Hope all is well with everyone…Peace!

p.s.-Now on facebook with keyword: roadpoet

The Long Drive Home

I’d planned not to write again until I was home, but then again I’ve planned a lot of things on this trip which have left God laughing.

Actually today’s the 15th and now that I think of it, I planned on being home today. Hmm, well maybe tomorrow.

So I snuck back into northern Michigan for a quick two day affair before retuning home. I was, of course, rewarded by many natural scenes of wildlife and northern beauty, but that’s not why I’m writing.

I was eating at the only all night diner I’d seen anywhere near Belaire, Michigan. The night air was as still and quiet as the interior of the diner. Myself and the cook/waitress/everything were accompanied by one of her regular’s around four o’clock.

He and I began talking (he’s a mid-forties semi-retired truck driver/farm hand/handy man – but mostly now he makes a living scrapping metal), and eventually I mentioned the trip and that I was writing poetry and such, and he kinda looked at me funny. “For real?” he asked me like three times. Then he proceeded to tell me a story about the only other poet he’d known. I won’t bore you with all the details, but here’s the gist:

When he was a kid there was an old guy who once owned a farm and corner store who would read stories to the children (and oftentimes adults too). The adults all said he wrote poetry too, but my new friend didn’t remember ever hearing any. We talked til near six o’clock (I mostly listened). He was so elaborate with details of this old guy, and the whole time he spoke of it you could see this boyish smile beneath his scraggly beard. It was the coolest thing – I wish I could describe it better, but perhaps being there adds to my excitement a bit too.

Anyway this old guy (as you can tell I don’t want to say his name yet, for reasons I’ll soon share) used to sit around outside the corner shop he used to own, and read to the children. He never brought a book, though. His story ideas all came from the children. You see the children would bring him an envelope. Inside the envelope was one quarter and one word. He would keep the quarter to eat and such, then would tell the children a stort relating to whatever word was in their envelope. Some days he would speak for hours to those children.

Well I’ve met with people who knew him better, and there’s something that this old man dreamed about, that I’m going to try and make come true. So hold on to your hats, more details will be coming soon, after I look into a few things. But it looks rather wonderful. A funny (well maybe tragic depending on how you look at it) thing about these other people – they all remember him creating stories for the kids, and remember hearing that he wrote poetry, but none of them ever remember seeing or hearing any of his poetry.

Oh – just in case you’re thinking another search is on, it isn’t. His wife preceeded him in death, he had no children, and there’s no known living family. But that doesn’t mean what comes next isn’t exciting as a dickens.

Update on searching for Artie: My spirits have almost completetly deflated & forgotten the search since it’s been so long for anything new to surface. I’m still waiting to hear from Tom on when I should visit to look through the rest of his mother’s boxes of stuff.

Upon checking my email – I’ve received a nice little rejection letter from some poems I submitted a month ago. Just in case anyone is wondering. My poetic plans are to begin submitting more pieces as soon as I’m home.

P.S. – Home FYI – I’ve decided I’ll see you tomorrrrrrrow for sure.

peace.

Indohigan

So I’ve been driving around Indiana and Ohio for the past week and one question keeps popping into my mind: Why am I driving around Indiana and Ohio?

It’s not that I haven’t had a lot of, shall we say – experiences in these states, it’s just that they look a lot like Michigan, without the seasonal beauty of course. What I’m saying is that it’s flat here. It’s like all three states are the same – I dub thee ‘Ind-ohi-gan’ which is roadpoetese for why so flat, land?

I’m wondering now why I didn’t head to someplace fun like Lynchburg, Tennessee -or- to someplace I’d really like to see like Slab City, California -or- someplace with access to the ocean (any ocean) -or- someplace exotic like Pittsburgh.

Did I just say that? Pittsburgh – exotic? well, who knows, maybe they have a zoo!

That’s it I’m heading somewhere cool. right now. as soon as I finish this post. right now. oh, I already said that. Ok, I’m on my way.

peace.

Lucky

So sleeping on top of the van didn’t work out quite like I’d hoped. The roof isn’t exactly flat – there’s a few linear risers that protrude just enough to make it uncomfortable. Also – the roof feels like it’s caving in under the weight of my body. So I’ve still been sleeping inside the van.

For the past two nights I’ve slept in the backwoods of a farm here in northern Michigan. I’m traveling south (out of the state) tomorrow morning. I’m still not sure where I’m headed.

A bit about why I’m sleeping at a farm: I was driving around planning to just pull over into the woods at night and sleep, when I passed a man in a wheelchair by the side of the road. He was slumped over groping for a package just out of his reach. I stopped to help – and we got to talking. His name is Gerald, but everyone calls him ‘lucky.’

So I told him a bit about my story and what I’m doing driving around, and he offered to let me stay on the back of his property. I felt completely comfortable about staying there, that is until he told me why people call him lucky.

Years earlier he had been hit by a bus. In fact that’s how he came to be in the wheelchair. He had been crossing the street in the middle of town and bent over for something. Apparently the bus driver didn’t see him all hunched over and the bus proceeded forward. Gerald was taken to the hospital where they found in his still clenched right hand – a penny.

Gerald had stopped to pick up a lucky penny, and hence everyone now calls him lucky. Quite an odd way to get such a complimentary nick-name.

Well off to get a good night’s sleep – so I can head out before the rooster crow’s tomorrow.

peace.

Sleep Walking

Back on Michigan soil now, and the weather’s already much better than Virginia. I’m less excited about sleeping in the van tonight than I have been, since the whole time at Tom’s house I slept in this incredibly awesome bed. The mattresses are hand-made to respond to the body’s actions much like those foam beds. The great thing about these hand-made beds is that they are constructed out of 100% recycled materials. The down side is that there’s a six month waiting period for the mattresses. Oh and they’re a bit on the expensive side too.

You’ll all be happy to know we had no jokesters on our return flight. We also didn’t have any private workers on the plane, other than the pilot and his assistant (I learned there’s a whole hierarchy of positions before one becomes a co-pilot on these planes – our guy made it clear he was just an ‘assistant.’ I guess that means if our plane was falling out of the sky he would be qualified enough to ‘assist’ the pilot ininforming us that we’re about to crash.

Absolutely nothing spectacular happened over the past two days – no new breadcrumbs on Artie’s trail, no contact information or old address or picture or anything. Tom did say there were some more boxes he has put in storage and he invited me back out to look through them when he brings them home. Of course this time he will expect me to drive, so who knows – maybe I’ll head that way in my travels.

Enough about all of that, tonight I just want to think about finding a nice quiet spot to sleep beneath the stars. Ever since the trip began I’ve wanted to sleep on the van’s roof, and tonight’s the night. Let’s all pray I don’t rock in my sleep or sleep walk – it wouldn’t be fun waking up in the dirt.

FYI – I’m planning to visit the world’s greatest family (uh, that’s mine in case you didn’t get it – duh!) in a couple weeks, so I need to plan a good 2-3 week round trip destination. Any ideas?

peace.

Your Tax Dollars At Work

I can’t say much right now, but I just took a private jet to Virginia. Funny how quickly everything can change. I’ll be here a few days helping Tom look through some of his mom’s (Mary) old papers for any clue about where Artie might be.

I’m pretty sure this flight has been funded by our tax dollars, and a little hint for those who may find themsleves in a similar situation – be wary of your humor as the workers on these private planes have no sense of funny. A little joke about being a mile high and needing my stuff back, and the next thing you know I’ve lost all privileges.

Oh – I didn’t mention my stuff yet. Ok, here it goes:

Tom let me know that before boarding the plane I’d have to empty my pockets into a plastic container (which they would keep until we landed). Unfortunately (for them) he told me this as we were gassing up the car enroute to the hangar.

So I decided to play a little joke on them. I had almost $23 on me, so I bought two energy drinks, a box of magnum condom’s, and almost a hundred red hot fireballs. We had about a thirty minute drive and here’s how it went down: I drank the two energy drinks, opened all the condoms from their individual packaging, then began unwrapping the fireballs and putting them inside the condoms. Then I knotted the condoms and dispersed them into the various pockets about me.

In retrospect it really wasn’t that creative, but it’s all I could come up with at the time. The two ladies whom I had to hand everything to spent about ten minutes trying to figure out what was happening. I thought it’d just be a funny joke, but let’s just say they weren’t laughing. Tom was pissed.

I never did get all my stuff back. Anyway I’m hoping to get some good info while here and perhaps start again on the trail to find Artie.

peace.