A Grand Night Out

Yesterday I was at the UPS Store to ship a bunch of drain snake cutters to a customer in Glennie, MI. The young man at the counter goes, "Oh wow! My family has a vacation home in Glennie! Ever been there?" he asks.

I tell him I've driven through it (it's about 3 hours north of Detroit) but that's all.

"You better like fishing because that's all you can do there," he comments.

I mention that I think it's close to a little city on Lake Huron called Tawas. "It is, about twenty minutes," the guy confirms. Then he adds with a wry smile, "Tawas is where the people in Glennie go for a night on the town!"

New York City and Chicago must not hold a candle to Tawas, then.

Downstate Michigan

I've written before about where Up North actually is in my home state of Michigan. It's the Upper Peninsula, by the way. Sometimes I envy Milwaukee because it's closer to da UP than Detroit. Then I remember that it's Milwaukee, and Wisconsin no less, and I don't feel so bad.

But anyway, at what point when coming from Up North do the downstate vibes start? Well, and this may offend some people where no offense is meant, when I’m coming home I begin getting those vibes at Gaylord, around 60 miles below the Mackinac Bridge connecting our state's two peninsulas. I mean, you have a WalMart, Gaylord, and enough hotels to house a weekend Elks convention. That's kind of at least a large semi-rural area thing you know.

Anywhere after Gaylord the downstate feelings simply come on stronger and stronger, until by mile marker 188 on Interstate 75, you may as well be in Detroit. And that's just the way it is.

Nine Oh Six

While tooling around yesterday for work and not wasting my day away at all, being very productive, you know, paying Ron's Social Security, the odometer on my new old van hit 906. Well, the last three digits were 906. My new old van is way beyond a mere 906 miles. The full number was 201,906 miles if all you OCD folks among my readers simply must know.

906 is the area code for Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula. The significance is that upon seeing that trifecta of digits, I'm pining for da U.P.  I can't wait to get back up there now, perhaps not until June but I'm really hoping for May. Especially now. The switch has been flipped on.

Weird Hessel

I know that I'm up here in the off season, so I don't expect a ton of summer activity. But I didn't expect the local pub and grub to be closed.

It's been closed every night I've been here, and it's downright weird to be sitting on my porch and not hearing a thing from that direction (the place is about a city block away). What's even more odd is walking down there at any time of day and into the evening, even later at night, to see no one and no thing. No one in the pub, no cars on the street, nothing. 

When I get a chance I'm going hit the locals about what's going on. The only other Hessel bar is about two miles away and it's closed too. Of course, the casino is open.

I'm sure it's somehow COVID related. But I'd have thought the Upper Peninsula of Michigan would have been beyond that issue by now. But this intrepid reporter will get to the bottom of it. 

Or he won't, because the quiet is nice. Why stir the pot?

A Hessel kind of day

I'm in Hessel in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula until tomorrow. But it's supposed to rain heavy all day today. That means of course that I'll have to grill in the garage with the doors open. 

I can live with that. A bad day in Hessel beats a good day almost anywhere else.

You notice the differences between being here in the spring or summer compared to now. There's noticeably fewer people, and the weather tends to be more dicey. Still, it's Hessel, and I likely won't get back up here until May. So we takes what we gets and be happy with it. Because I'll be home tomorrow and it won't be Hessel.