I went to bed with Brad Mehldau playing Thelonious Monk in my brain and woke up with Reba McIntyre singing 500 Miles from Home. I bet a lot of you didn’t know you could drive more than 600 miles and still be in Michigan. I didn’t drive it; I flew because it’s just not possible to do the drive thing in less than a week. The flight was without incident except I was minding my own business plugged into my iPod trying to drown out the sound of the plane prop engines when this happened: Laurie Anderson is singing, “I want stereo FM installed in my teeth…” and I’m thinking the next song on my playlist is Annie Lenox and A Thousand Beautiful Things when, “I’M AN ADVENTURE DO-OG! I’M AN ADVENTURE DOG! A-WOOO!” starts blasting away, many decibels beyond the tolerance of human hearing. How did THAT get on there?
So here I am, past Hancock amd Houghton, past Calumet, Laurium, and Linden, past Mohawk, past Eagle River, past Kearsarge, past Ahmeek and Allouez, past the abandoned Central copper mine and down Gratiot Lake Road to Lost Loon Lodge. Yes, truly, that is the name on their door: Lost Loon Lodge. I’ll post a picture of that as soon as I can get my own computer functioning which won’t be in the next two days. Right now I’m coming to you at 14Kbps on a computer where the type has been so enlarged to accommodate failing eyesight that I can only see four words at a time and then I have to scroll all around. This is SLOOOOWWWWW going. Hard to read you and more, hard to start a serious OR funny blog about life in this neck of the woods- and it IS both very serious and very funny. The high point of the day was hanging on the service counter of the IGA while Bud filled out his MegaMillions ticket; he doesn’t do the random machine pick, instead it’s like filing out the SAT scantron.
Mom and Bud are in the next room laughing hysterically at Bill Maher dressed like the Pope; I’m going to join them. Tomorrow I’ll take many photos. It’s supposed to be a balmy 26 with snow showers.