I was home at the Volvo Cave with Air Volvo unloaded, and the bags and suitcases in the house by about 11:15. The drive in Air Volvo was startling after driving 75-80 in Michigan for a week to keep up with traffic. Also, Air Volvo’s handling and seats are quite different from the Ford Edge, which I drove for a week. I liked it better than Air Volvo, though the acceleration was slow when driving in the city (and not that great in Air Volvo). Something to think about when a high-end one is about $44, which is below the starting price of a low-end XC60 Volvo. I did have a car slow down, which forced me to slow down and then change into my lane, but that was the usual passive-aggressive low-speed Beaverton driving. I definitely knew I was home when that happened.

(Returned to the new wooden floors. Wood for return. Carpet for leaving)

My flight left Detroit only a few minutes behind its planned 8:10 time. I had a terrible seat just behind First Class, seat 15E, in the middle—tiny. The steward then pointed out that we had entertainment and trays built into our seats, like Biz class, but I decided to read my book and listen to classical music. With entrainment options, it was not as bad as I first thought.

I spoke to the guy beside me (sorry, I forgot his name) and discovered he works for Nike in retail and uses SAP. We talked a lot about his work and the folks we knew. He praised my old system, and I directed him to my friends who designed the new system and still work at Nike by name to see if they had a fix for his issue on the latest SAP system. I recognized the problem and thought a solution was discussed, but I am not involved in inventory handling and do not know if there was a resolution. I suspect there was an alternative, and, as often happens with software development, it may not have made it to the front lines. He also makes vodka in his own distillery. I read and chatted until we landed.

Our airport, PDX, has been remodeled, but the work is not entirely done. PDX still requires a convoluted path to baggage claim, which helped me gain more than 5,000 steps for the day. Detroit helped with that, too, as I walked the length of ‘A’ to reach gate 72.

I delivered Air Ford (Edge) to Avis without issues. It was about a ninety-minute trip from Lansing to the Avis Rental Center. I parked it in the mass of cars, took pictures, and walked away after checking twice for forgetting something. At these transitions, you lose things, and once you walk away, you will never find the rental again (there are hundreds of cars, vans, and SUVs, all of the same models). I did remember to put the keys in it.

There are shelters, but I walked to the Avis Rental Center office in the cold wind and mushy rain (it would turn into snow later). A bus picked me up at the office, and then it wandered the shelters for people standing in the cold and pelted with melted snow headed to Delta. I think my choice to stay in the warm building was better.

I had to drag my wheeled bags up two escalators to get a bag to the tagging machines and drop off acceptance. I left my phone on the machine and got it back. Yikes! Again, transitions get you in trouble when traveling. The line was stupidly long for just bag-dropping. International, nearby, looked even worse, which is something to remember.

While standing in the slow line, another Delta agent appeared and said if you are domestic, have a bag under fifty pounds (about 32 pounds for me), you can come with her and drop it off. I did and soon was headed into security. Being extra careful not to lose anything (the near-disastrous loss of my phone was still on my mind), I removed my shoes, coat, and belt. My wallet was stuffed in my gym bag pocket. I was scanned, still wearing my hat, and passed. My hat is not put in the scanning machine as it falls out of the tray and creates a panic. Best to wear it.

After some careful reassembly and review for anything lost, I start the long walk to gate A72. The bathrooms are still down in the immediate area (I have been here a few times now), and I use the working ones at A68 and will return later to prove hydration before boarding.

I have Karen as my waiter; she is fun, laughs easily, and recommends the Cobb salad (usually too industrial and cheap for my tastes now as every restaurant makes a terrible one now). It is terrific, and the ranch dressing was made in the kitchen and not purchased, I was told. “I told you it was good,” she reminds me later. I eat while getting updates from Deborah and Clint (Susie’s niece’s husband in New Hampshire, an ‘outlaw’ like me in the Hill family–Leta was a Hill).

My Christmas and New Year planning, Deborah making hotel recommendations in Rochester, and Clint covering the New Hampshire part of the trip. It looks like weekends in Rochester, Michigan, Christmas (mid-week this year) in Lansing with Wilds and Leta, New Year’s with the Weiss and Hill families in New Hampshire, and a weekend extra in NH for Dungeons and Dragons (D&D). It’s a kind of four-dimensional constraint planning adventure.

With a beer, a good book, and classic music playing in one ear (the iPhone is arranged to send all the sound to one ear), I boarded without mishap or loss of anything on another transition. The flight in the newish Airbus is bumpy and warm. The pilot warned us to stay belted in and seated, but my bladder was unexpectedly full at that time. My seat companion took the close-open WC while I headed to the back one, which was also open. I was happy there was limited bouncing on the way there and back.

I was getting that pain in my lower back. I had a kidney stone. F**k. Well, it is not part of the usual treatment to use a bumpy plane ride to help release it, but that worked. I could not believe the volume. I’m sorry to overshare, but I was wedged in a bouncy plane bathroom, standing, holding on, knowing the plane was headed into a bomb cyclone with an endless stream, and wondering where the f**k all that came from. I managed to, as they said in Star Wars, “stay on target” and escape undamaged and unembarrassed, and the WC was still usable.

Relieved for various reasons, I returned to my seat, read, and enjoyed the remaining hours; the expected turbulence never materialized. The landing was uneventful, as was the deplaning and finding my bag.

Returning to the start of the day, I rose at 7ish and started to pack. I discovered my black shoes were not in my bag. Deborah, one a few miles from the Royal Park Hotel, will see if she can retrieve them. I pushed everything into my suitcase, which is also a suit carrier, and without the shoes, it all fit well. I wrote the blog, showered, packed everything away, and double-checked that I had everything.

I also did some paperwork and writing for the church. I sent the revisions out. I had had version issues and missed some edits, but they were finally fixed up and ready. Done!

I was late for breakfast, which is now at 9 and not the 9:30 I was told (and is published), but Victoria went into the kitchen and made a huge plate for breakfast. During my visit to Homewood Suites by Hilton, I befriended the staff, chatted with them, and thanked them. It goes a long way.

I continued to write the blog and, around 11ish, published it. I said my goodbyes and promised to return for Christmas. I also have the sales director’s card if I suddenly need an extended stay, as the kitchen and facilities would suit such a stay; I was informed that special rates start when you stay more than two weeks; just contact them. Excellent.

I decided to stop at the Harrison Roadhouse for lunch and have an olive burger. I wanted something heavier for a travel day, as you never know when you will eat again when traipsing here and there. I had two waiters, one very new in training, but I smiled and was cooperative and supportive. My burger was huge and more than ready to eat, but I managed it. I had it with a salad and iced tea as I had to drive to Detroit and did not want to stop for a nap! I paid the bill, and the new waiter handled the process without fuss.

Next, I stopped at Hoplite, a gaming store I had never visited. I found it the usual mix of old and new stuff, and I bought an old Dungeon Magazine, but sadly, it was not with the map I was hoping for (that would mark it up to $50), but I may find one later. Chatting with the store clerk was fun and a nice place to play. It was focused on Warhammer and collectible card games–the meat and potatoes of gaming stores now, to coin a phrase, but I suspect I could get a table for a D&D game if I wanted. Something to consider for the next trip.

Next, I tried the Michigan History Center. I had trouble finding parking. I had to pay $5 to park. But I only have about forty-five minutes and regret the cost. I walk into the buildings and find an atrium with a tree growing out of a lower level. There is a sign that the entrance is reached by stairs. I took the stairs and found a door leading to the back of security (!?). I was lectured on the proper use of the entrance, which I knew was perfunctory, and there were smiles. Soon, I was directed to the gift store and promised to return when I had more time. I picked up a few items.

I left and soon was on the roads with Apple CarPlay and Maps, finding my way to Avis near Detroit-Wayne County Airport. The drive is 70-80, with some slowing here and there. The Maps reroutes me to save time and seems to keep me moving. Air Ford (Edge) handles well, and the mushy rain is not an issue. I stop once for a break and to prove hydration. The pain in my back starts, but I do not connect it to a kidney stone until on the plane.

And that brings us, dear reader, full circle. I am feeling fine, and everything appears to be working this Thursday morning while I write this most of the morning. The laundry has started, and the unpacking is in process. Thanks for reading!

 

I rose at 6ish in room 507 in my suite at the Homewood Hilton in Lansing.

I showered, dressed, and wrote the blog, which is a bit wordy at over 1,400 words, and published it. With that task completed, I spent time on church paperwork and other mundane tasks, including updating Quicken with all the transactions to date. The software downloads from all my accounts (except 401K, which is annoying) so I can ensure everything is working and not hacked or a card number is stolen.

With all that done because I started early, I headed out in Air Ford (Edge) to the Michigan capital in Lansing and was there just as the place was waking. I parked, took a photo of the vehicle, and went to the payment area. I entered the plate numbers for the rental using the image, bought parking, and then rebought it by pressing the MAX button this time. I am constantly frustrated that it limits parking to two hours. I always need about thirty minutes longer if I want lunch, but I planned only a few things today, which will be done in the range. Also, I passed a Parking Enforcement car as I reached the area closer to the gaming store, which was already writing tickets! Comply!

The gaming and comic store, Sumit, was not open yet, which was fine with me. I took pictures as I walked to the Michigan Capital building. The building, formerly known as the Michigan Bank Tower and the only skyscraper in Lansing, has always interested me and is near the capital. It is a mix of Art Deco and 1930s Depression architecture. I have never been inside.

I reached the capital, and since 9/11, the entrance has been moved to the basement. I learned from one of the tour guides. It always feels like you are sneaking in the backdoor, but you are passing through the Michigan State Police area and scanned. I passed without having to take anything out or off.

My visit before the area was covered in restoration work. Now that is done, the glorious light and odd 1879 bright and happy colors create an impressive sight. Few Empire Age cast iron buildings are left in the USA, and even fewer are restored even with period light fixtures (revamped for electrical use). The portraits of all the former governors, a tradition for years, make it a fantastic late 1800s-like experience. Lastly, the flag cases hold the colors for Michigan from the Spanish-American War, American Civil War, and World War 1 and are the final archive for my home state’s colors. I had read that the originals (I had seen them when I was a little kid and remember them tattered and falling apart) are now being treated and preserved. I must plan a tour when I return in December; see here.

Before the elevators, all the legislature and governor had to walk by the cases of the colors and be reminded of the sacrifices made. The replaced flags are all colorful and accurate copies of the original.

I walked all the iron steps to the top, happy to reach the last public level, which was closed the last two times I was there. I remember being disappointed on my first trip as a little kid that the higher levels, likely unsafe for the casual visitor, were not open. I suspect those areas need ladders and align with what was considered safe access in the 1870s. I found an elevator, a later installation, as it is a block-like tower in an alcove, and I rode it down; I had never taken one before. I pop out among the Michigan State Police and get a polite nod (I did not earn eye rolls from yet another tourist playing in the elevator). I chat with a tour guide and see a group of older men and women all dressed up and getting a formal tour. I believe it was the tour for the newly elected. I doffed my hat and got many friendly smiles, furthering my belief that they were happy politicians enjoying their orientation. I saw some of the same folks headed to lunch downtown, now carrying huge notebooks.

I returned to Sumit Comics and Games and found nothing I would not find in Oregon, which is a pity. I often find unique books and items, but not today. I headed to the Peanut Shop and got a small bag of unsalted peanuts in the shell and another of cashews (which I failed to give to my sister later and had to enjoy myself). I remember Dad getting peanuts there and when stopping by the capital building.

Air Ford (Edge) had to repark as multiple folks tried to pull out and pull in while snarling the streets. Once that cleared, Air Ford (Edge) headed to the Lansing Mall Panera Bread and the Barnes and Noble Bookstore there. I was too early to meet Leta, so I sat and read. I saw Leta; I knew she would be there looking for the newest Nora Roberts book, so we soon joined the Lutheran Ladies at Panera Bread nearby.

Leta, adopted by the Lutheran Ladies when they saw her sitting alone for lunch a few times, introduced me, and we chatted and had lunch. It was a lovely time, and we talked about Oregon, their family and travel issues, and the usual health updates that folks like me with grey hair always cover. I left early and said goodbye to Leta until next month.

I returned to my hotel in Air Ford (Edge), wrote some church paperwork, and emailed it to be reviewed (which took three tries as I kept mixing up my copies). It covered a difficult subject, and I needed an hour in the warm hotel pool to get it out of my mind. My eyes were red from chlorine, and now I felt relaxed. I dressed again and headed to BJ’s Brewhouse, where I met Linda, my sister.

We killed a bottle of wine and had steaks for dinner, and they were good. Jesse and Meg (Linda’s husband and daughter) arrived later, and we chatted for a bit longer. Linda and I had a shot of Amaretto with our coffee, and we sipped it between the tastes of coffee. We paid the bill with Linda buying and some of my BJ’s discounts knocking off $30 (not that I eat there often in Oregon). We said our goodbyes until next month, and I returned to my hotel. I put on my PJs, checked into my flight, got another uncomfortable but inexpensive seat by checking in, and later looked at new items from IKEA. Finally, sleepy, I slept most of the night.

Thanks for reading.

Monday is like Saturday for me. I rise slowly, drink coffee, and go slow. That was my experience in room 507 in Homewood Suites by Hilton, Lansing, Michigan. I made coffee in the Cuisant pod coffee maker, two cups (one for each pod), and soon, I was writing fast and furious.

Life’s essential moments sometimes become just a few hours here and there, and everything else is noise–though it sounds trite, it is how I find the world. I have no answers but to treasure what I have. I cannot extend those moments like the song (here); I would treasure them in a bottle and then use them with loved ones. But you cannot do that, and I will try to keep the tears back and savor my memories.

I was running late, as one would expect, as I would write 1400+ words Monday morning. I showered and dressed but skipped shaving. I also had a privacy card on my door, and the staff would not visit the room. The coffee, gasp, was not refilled (making this morning, Tuesday, harder). I got downstairs in time for breakfast.

There, I chatted with the cook about life in Oregon and how race issues are better in Oregon but nowhere as good as they should be. I told her that, as an older white guy, I thought we would be better in the USA by now. Though my coffee was industrial and tried to drift me toward corporate thinking, I still dreamed of a time when the love of Justice, Compassion, and Community ruled our passions in the USA. It often seems like a fading vision, but small strides do happen. I have hope and found Hope still in my coffee this morning. Sorry if that sounds political, but it was what we talked about.

With spicy hash (obviously, the cook wanted some excellent besides the usual hotel bland) and the rest of the typical industrial scrambled eggs, potatoes, and coffee I consume at a hotel, I sat and wrote the blog in the lobby area where breakfast is created and served (included in my stay).

Deborah and I also talked on the phone a few times when she was traveling to work, something we seldom can do in the morning when I am in a three-hour time difference. I continued to write, read emails, read some news, and update my transactions in Quicken; I ensured that banks and credit card transactions were all ones I recognized. I was done about 11. I returned to my room, read for a while, shaved, and was out to travel to my 1 o’clock lunch with Leta.

Panera Bread was the agreed-upon location and one of Leta’s favorite places. I arrived early, but soon, Leta appeared. We spent about ninety minutes catching up and just talking. It was a happy moment with many smiles. There is always a sad moment between Leta and me (and Barb and me) when we acknowledge how much we miss Susie and being together. There were no tears today, but maybe damp eyes. Still, it was good, and soon, like many good things, it was over. Leta invited me to lunch with the Lutheran Ladies on Tuesday (they adopted Leta). Maybe.

I returned to my kitchen office in room 507 and did a Zoom call after reviewing updates for the church meeting. The blog is not the place for this, but I followed the meeting with an hour swim in the pool. I needed to work off some emotions.

The pool is warm, but not hot. There is no hot tub. My swimming skills are mostly forgotten, but I was able to do some strokes looking more frog than anything useful. My legs surprised me with cramps, meaning I had used them more than maybe I realized (or I was really stressed by the meeting). I could swim out of the issues (more water-walking than swimming), and the water was not more than 5 1/4 deep, which was never over my mouth, so I was not at any risk. I was alone, and the lights kept turning off (in the water, you are at the same temperature as the water, and the motion detectors can’t ‘see’ you). I would get out of the pool, and then the lights would pop back on. Later, I found a timer.

I risked some underwater swimming (my eyes still burn some this Tuesday morning) and was relieved that I could once again hold my breath and swim the pool length (with pushing off the wall) underwater. Previous attempts a few years ago had me suddenly reaching the air and panicking. I am back to my old abilities and could improve them with more swimming. A relief.

With more underwater swimming, I noticed that my balance problem, caused by the loss of the left ear balance and hearing structures (from the impacts of a brain tumor and its removal), now manifests in the pool, but differently than one would expect. I swim in long arcs instead of straight lines. I had my eyes open under the water and saw the side of the pool appear when I was expecting the steps to start. I soon experimented and found that I was safe with my blurry underwater sight, but I would need to know if I drift to the right or left now. A new thing to share with the doctors. I will have to look and correct underwater. Something excitingly new to do and try!

I washed off at the pool and then in my room. I redressed and headed back to Lansing Mall and the Zap Zone, which has a bowling, small go-cart, and gaming area. I arrived early, and an ill-omened fire truck, paramedics, and ambulance appeared. They completed their challenges, and Linda and Mom Wild appeared. Jesse and Meg were already inside waiting.

We squeezed into a booth and had dinner of wings flavored with various levels of spiciness and fried potato products. I kept trying to slip one of the buffalo-flavored wings (meaning hot Buffalo NY-style and not the animal) into Linda’s sweat BBQ wings, but I was caught each time.

We then wandered the gaming offering, and Linda, Meg, and Jesse made various offerings for the games. Jesse won a high score in a traffic game (which is no surprise as he is a Traffic Analyst for the State of Michigan). Skee ball was popular with our small group, with Linda smoking everyone. Mom Wild even played. I watched as I was tired, had more calls about the church meeting and more emails, and was distracted. Meg played many games, and Jesse found a few favorites, too. Linda played with Jesse in a Jurassic Park game, blasting away at T-Rex and other horrors from the movie.

Tears followed as we broke up, as Mom Wild realized this was goodbye again. We will meet again next month unless events occur (weather or otherwise). Mom did not want to let me go, and I understood. Mom, tears flowing, gets in the car and heads home with Linda.

There have been so many goodbyes on this trip. On trips like this, the price of ‘hello’ is ‘goodbye.’ It never feels like a good exchange at goodbye, but it is—there is no bottle, like in the song, to save up and make it longer. But the price of ‘hello’ has always been reasonable as I get the memories of friends, lovers, and family. I can savor them until the next ‘hello.’

I write this on my last full day in Michigan.

It is dark and rainy, and I have some difficulty knowing where I am in Air Ford (Edge), but Apple Maps on ApplePlay works, and soon, I am safe in room 507. I finish the night texting, talking on the phone, and reading. As typical, I sleep and wake thinking it is a different time, see it is still f**king in the middle of the night, prove hydration, and then crawl back into the warm covers and wonder if I can sleep and do sleep before the thought is complete.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

I woke with my alarm at 7 in a huge bed in a massive hotel room in the Royal Park Hotel, wondering how the night could be over so soon. In my bare feet, I walked on the balcony one more time to enjoy the gurgling river and returned to my room before I froze. I threw on my clothing as Deborah had a complex schedule this morning and could only spend ninety minutes at breakfast with me. She lives only a few miles from the hotel.

We met and soon had coffee (our first cup was the excellent free stuff in the entranceway) and then had more that was less free in the restaurant. Our waiter was busy, and like most fancy hotels, the place was always just above total chaos. Our order was lost and sent to the wrong table, and the waiter dropped the coffee charge from the bill. Deborah and I talked and remembered friends from Eric’s service and how happy yet strange it felt to see so many people for the first time in forty-five years! We all felt young, remembered our days in high school, and wondered how such and such person could look so old, but the smiles and the light in the eyes were still the same. How could they be so old? Of course, we all are now.

Deborah had a meeting for an event, and later, I learned the event was to make perfumes. Deborah had to be in Ann Arbor at 11. We finished, and I paid using a $100 bill. My ATMs in Oregon tend to give them in place of the five twenties now, and I did not think about it then. It took our waiter extra time to break it and use it. Oops.

Deborah was on her way, and I returned to the room, showered, redressed, and packed up. I had only slightly unpacked and soon headed out. I used the express checkout (after viewing the bill) and just left the key card in the room. A couple decided to use the staff elevator as there was something wrong with the main lift (likely busy at checkout time, but one was out of service). I joined them. It did not open in the hallway on the ground floor but in the kitchen. We were first thinking of ascending and trying another lift, but then we together found the boldness to walk into the kitchen, me with luggage, cross, leave to the bar, and then out. Exciting!

With that last-minute exploration and chaos, I left the place, taking one last photo of the too-f**king-early (TFE) Christmas display in the lobby. Deborah and I also learned the night before of the Holiday Bar. A particular room offered special drinks and food for the TFE Christmas. This we learned included the cookie charcuterie board, which left Deborah, often overly precise in her thinking, thinking that cookies would have to come with little piles of frosting and sprinkles so you could assemble them yourself. There was a long line for access, and we demurred.

I boarded Air Ford (Edge), loaded the cargo area with my wraps and luggage, and used my Apple Maps app to travel. Concerned that I would take another unique trip, Deborah checked my directions before heading out. But she could not prevent me from making the wrong or missing turns altogether.

I was enjoying the tour of Bloomfield Hills, the high-end homes of Michigan, and did not take my turn, and the next one, and the next one. I enjoyed an extended tour of the area and enjoying the drive. I saw many nice-looking homes and schools.

Aside: Michiganders have for years paid for schools with local property taxes, which means more affluent and expensive areas get much more money for schools as the money was not pooled and used by need. This was changed years ago, but the impact can still be seen. In my case, my hometown had a run-down high school with asbestos dust falling from the pipes–I remember we used to play with it. The gym was built around 1946 with maple wood and was well cared for like a beloved antique, but it still showed its age when I was there. Back in the 1980s, there were seldom arguments about textbooks or what to put in the library–unlike today, as we were happy just to have something newish and not torn up. I am pleased to write that Laingsburg now has a lovely new high school known for its excellent basketball and often plays in the finals. Change takes time, but equity finally rises.

Returning to the story, I again take the wrong exit (at the time me imagining getting a tsk tsk from Deborah), I drive through some nice areas and finally arrive downtown Ann Arbor. I don’t think I have been here before. It has the usual college town fascination for charging for parking, and most of the metered parking is full and the one I could take would require me to parallel park an Air Ford (Edge) with no idea if I could manage that without lost paint. Sheepishly, I find a parking structure and put Air Ford (Edge) into a slot. I open the back gate; it is an SUV, and I miss a metal pipe holder by an inch (F**K) and grab my laptop.

I found two bookstores across from the garage, Third Mind Books and Literati, which I visited. At Literati, I found a book (translated from Greek with stories of traveling the Greek shores) and a few cards to send out. After that, I was directed to a coffee place a few blocks away. There, I got a tiny table, wrote the blog, and enjoyed the Sunday rush in a college town. Once the blog was over two days, I bought some croissants, two bags, one with four for Deborah and her son to enjoy (they stay good for about two days), and two in another bag for me. Barb, my sister-in-law, contacted me for dinner on Sunday night at 6ish, and she, being familiar with Ann Arbor as her daughter went to Michigan, recommended the Peruvian place, Culantro, just a few blocks away.

Deborah appears with her new scent, Sunrise, and parks in the same garage. We meet for a late lunch, stopping by to get some physical copies of the new issue of the newspaper Laim works for. After navigating Deborah’s dietary restrictions, we get a fine repast at Culantro. Lunch-dinner was terrific, and we enjoyed some sugary but deliciously spiced drinks from mason jars. Barb was quite right about this place.

But it is time for me to return to Lansing and Deborah to go home and prepare for the next week. She has been at a conference for a week, a service for Eric, and then spending much of her time with me. We say goodbye, and we head back. We talk as we travel on the phone, and Deborah is very amused that I finally managed to follow a sane path and miss no turns this time.

I soon arrive at the Homewood Hilton. There the rooms are enormous but full as they come with a small kitchen, full frig, and even a couch. Excellent. I am most pleased with this choice; parking is free for the first time on the trip!

I met Barb, my sister-in-law, at BJ’s Brewhouse. We sat at the bar and had a beer and an excellent appetizer: California flatbread, large enough for two. We talk about travel and plans. Barb wants to return to Europe with her husband Gordon, “Gord,” to visit Poland, Germany, Spain (Barb’s wish), or Italy. We discuss potential trips and some of my unfulfilled crazy trips to multiple countries. We will keep each other informed and may overlap to see each other in Europe. Barb, like me, has noticed that Europe is cheaper now than the USA for travel. We had a lovely snack; we both had too much for lunch, and we will reconnect soon for more trips. Barb also suggests that she and “Gord” have not reached Scotland yet, which is another potential overlap.

I returned to my room, and Barb returned to Grand Blanc. I sent out an updated travel plan. I soon was in my PJs reading and fell asleep when I put the iPhone down for a moment and stopped reading the Kindle app. I rose and completed bed tasks, and turned off the lights. It was still early for me, and I woke at 11, thinking it was morning—just jetlag. I woke twice, thinking it was morning each time, and instead, it proved hydration.

Thanks for reading.

Dear reader, I will catch up with you in two days. I was busy traveling between hotels and seeing folks and had limited writing time.

Friday

I rose at about 7 in the Graduate East Lansing Hotel room 819, wrote the blog for Thursday, showered, dressed, and all the usual things. I am still trying to get used to the changes in time. The three hours earlier impacts me, as does trying to sleep before 1AM. I am also used to the eastern USA folks being awake for hours when I rise. Now, they are just waking, and Oregon is not awake until the afternoon and texting me very late. This is a disconcerting change.

Duncan Donuts supplies coffee and a few not-as-fresh-as-they-should-be donuts. The shop is only half a block away, and I ordered everything on a touch screen. My order was quickly processed. The gal who handed me the bag of donuts and coffee liked my name, ‘WILD M,’ and asked if that was my real name. I get a smile when I say it is ‘Michael Wild.’ Fed, I need to move and work off more of the airplane air and jetlag. I spend the next hour shopping and walking in East Lansing. It is already afternoon, and I walk to the length of the shops.

I walked one block twice and then returned to the hotel, where I met Deborah. We headed to El Azteco for drinks and chips, where we kept each other company until dinner.

Deborah and I met Deborah’s son, Liam, who goes to MSU, for dinner at Beggar’s Banquet, and we had a nice meal. I had the London Broil, which was excellent, as I had yet to have that. Liam tried the stroganoff while Deborah went back to the dip sandwich. My meal was mainly meat, and I finished it. Liam got the bounty of the sandwich and leftover stroganoff. We had a nice chat and soon headed to The Graduate Roof Bar to finish the evening.

Saturday

Saturday started with partial repacking and getting ready for Eric “Elric” Anderson’s service. Later, I was headed to the Royal Park Hotel in Rochester. I did not want to repack, so I just put the loose items back in the suitcase and made two trips to the car to return the shirts less wrinkled to the vehicle. If I had repacked everything, the shirts would have needed to be pressed. The car is valet-parked, and I ordered the valet to bring the vehicle by phone text, and soon, I had much in hand. 

It goes without saying that breakfast, a bagel sandwich, was acquired with coffee from downstairs before this. Deborah joined me for the fine repast. Showers and assembling into my black suit, with suspenders, tie, and vest, were included in this busy morning, with me waking early and not returning to sleep.

I headed to the service in Laingsburg for “Elric’s” service (a friend from middle school learned Dungeons and Dragons with me) and soon remembered the path. I found it amazing as I recalled childhood versions of the exact locations; now, much has changed. Soon, I found the American Legion Hall still looking the same, except the parking lot was slightly bumpy. Tyler (another elementary school friend who also learned Dungeons and Dragons with me in the 1980s) and Eric’s family greeted me, and Tyler and I chatted until others showed up.

Eric’s brother, Joe, greeted me, as did Chris and other folks who have lived in Laingsburg for forty-plus years since we graduated high school together in 1982. I had not seen most in forty years or once or twice for other family services.

The service was short, less formal, and contained many stories and laughs. It was more of a roast for Eric’s friends and family, and Eric would have loved to add a few good comments, too. The tears started strong when the 23 Psalm was read (also used as Susie’s service), and the honor guard reminded us why we were there. The fire of the salute startled many. Few were not crying when the US flag was presented to Eric’s widow, and those familiar words were said by a man in uniform, “The President of the United States…”. Eric was greatly missed.

Jeanne, Jim, Deborah, and I sat together with other members of the class of 81, 82, and 83. We shared many stories, some of which became clearer and also faded with time. Smiles, laughter and some wet eyes followed with lunch from the Ladies of the American Legion. Tyler distributed some items that “Elric” had from various gaming options. I got some Chainmail figures and a small game. Jim got the official Dungeons and Dragons cookbook. Rusty, a player with us in the 1980s along with Jim, got a few rule books.

Everyone talked and laughed, and nobody wanted to leave. This was a time to meet again and remember Eric and our youth in “the Burg.” We talked until the room was being disassembled, and then we all reluctantly left, knowing we would not meet again. Our foolish and fun young selves faded again until the upstanding elders were present. We all were waiting for Eric, though we knew it could not happen, to somehow appear and laugh with us again. It was hard to drive away.

I took a Detroit driving tour to reach the Royal Park Hotel, which is not on the way to Detroit! But seeing the area and driving again at over 70 for extended times was still lovely. When I arrived, I found it a classic hotel of the mid-1900s, built then as a throwback to previous times, now updated to current travelers’ needs. Deborah joined me in the bar for drinks and a pizza, and later, we shared a baked brie. All were good.

We called it an early night. Deborah returned to her home. Both of us were tired from travel. Deborah had done a work conference and presentation for most of the previous week, and I was still jetlagged, and the time change was still hard on me.

We planned to meet again at the hotel for breakfast and find a few things to do on Sunday.

Thanks for reading!