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"IN MEMORY OF MARY LOGSDON" - IN NOTE SECTION OF CHECK

AUGUST 21, 2006 - "REGRETS, I'VE HAD A FEW, BUT THEN AGAIN, TOO FEW TO MENTION.…"

"I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway And more, much more than this, I did it my way"
 
I think it was serendipity that this song came on a RADIO channel today as we made our way around the south end of Lake Michigan.  I had given up listening to the radio for most of the trip in favor of the immense collection of MP3's that I had loaded into Ms. GPS. I had shut off her voice (I gave her a sale paper to look at, something about 2 for 1 at some shoe place) and started thumbing through the locally available FM stations.  Old Blue Eyes was singing to my soul.

Poor Mazy, Kelly Jo's dog was sooooooo depressed when we were leaving this morning. First she had to suffer through the ritual of watching Kelly get ready for work, and her sad little eyes told the story. She was bummed. Then Bob and I got up and she was still moping around. No antics of ours would raise her spirits. So, we locked her up in the house and left for somewhere to grab a breakfast. We walked down to the little bakery that Kelly had pointed out the previous evening during our walk through the quiet neighborhood that she lives in. I mentioned that quiet place last night. Did I mention that she made us wear black and we had to leave her building at 3 minute intervals with a planned rendezvous at the Thai restaurant and Sushi Bar? Oh, by the way, that's only one place, not two.

Oh, so anyway, we went to the bakery. I walked in and it was obvious that this "bakery" wasn't a "bakery" after the large lady behind the counter said that none of the items that I had asked for had been DELIVERED yet. I know that MOST of you reading this have arrived at the same conclusion I did. The only delivering that should have been taking place was from the oven in back to the counter in front. I had this uncontrollable urge to ask if she knew where I could find a good bakery in the area, but instead asked if there was anywhere close that had baked goods.

Years ago, when we had first moved into our home on Wellington, I had contracted with a sod farm to deliver and install sod at the house. This was done in April, just prior to our leaving for performances in Boston. I had been promised an early June delivery. The date came and went. I called again and was given a delivery date of mid June. I had the wherewithal to record the time and the day and the PERSON I had talked to. The date came and went. I called back and got a date for the end of June. I also recorded the data from that phone call, and the phone call that promised the beginning of July and the one that promised Mid July and the one that promised the end of July and I had had enough.

I called Ray Trombley Sod Farm and asked to speak to Ray Trombley. The cute little voice on the other end said that Mr. Trombley was not available at the immediate time, but perhaps she could help. I said that I was calling to see if anyone at that location could recommend a good sod farm. This perky little voice said - with excitement, because she knew the answer to this - "HEY, WE'RE A SOD FARM!!!!!"  I acted incredulous. NO, REALLY? Says I. "Oh yes, we sell sod!!!!" NO WAY!!!!!!  "Yes, what kind would you like?"
I WOULD LIKE THE KIND THAT JULIE SAID WOULD BE DELIVERED IN EARLY JUNE, THE KIND THAT STEPHANIE SAID WOULD BE DELIVERED MID JUNE, THE KIND THAT JULIE (AGAIN) SAID WOULD BE DELIVERED AT THE END OF JUNE, I WANT GREEN STUFF WITH BROWN BOTTOMS THAT WAS PROMISED THE FIRST PART OF JULY, THE MIDDLE OF JULY, THE END OF JULY, THE FIRST OF AUGUST, THE MIDDLE OF AUGUST, and would you PLEASE put Mr. Trombley on the phone so I can buy some sod? I am trying to actually make a purchase of alleged grass and roots in sufficient quantity to cover a corner lot.

The stuff was delivered two days later. How did I get on this subject? Oh, because the bakery lady hadn't received her delivery of baked goods. I don't know, but it sure seems strange to me.

Bob and I walked down to "SIP" a coffee house across the street from Kelly's Biker Bar. I had forgotten to mention that last night Bob met this guy at the corner of the bar that was so blotto that I could only determine that he was using his voice, and his lips were moving. Bob claims that he understood about 20% of what the guy was blathering about.

OK, now, back to SIP. We got something to drink and I got a fruit cup and a muffin to go along with the coffee. We were directed toward the rear of this narrow building only to find a remarkable oasis in the middle of the urban life going on around it. I use the term oasis carefully. This place was so well laid out and designed that the back porch area was a very inviting place. So was the back room. It looked as though the building had been renovated recently. It was well done, though and the result was an outstandingly comfortable space. This was mentioned to the personnel there and the allowed that that whole area had only been built within the last year. It had been built to look like a renovated old building. See the pictures in my next submission.  I had made arrangements to return with the computer and to upload my journal entries. Both Bob and I had to pack up the bikes, and we got to work on that after walking back through the very quiet neighborhood that Kelly lives in.

When we got back, Mazy the dog went crazy. I am sure she was all goofy because she didn't expect any humans for the rest of the day. It was all an elaborate ruse, because she went all mopey and quiet when we started packing stuff up. Then she went and quietly sat by the door. She started staring at us and tried to control us with her mind. Bob succumbed to her mental exertions first. He said "Mazy wants to go outside". Wow, you're quick!!! Well, he took her out. He came back in mere seconds with the happy news that Mazy had left something very very large outside and that he would now have to return to the scene and try to wrestle with the offending anaconda. It must have been impressive because he claims that it was actually larger than the dog itself.  Mazy seemed ecstatic and less depressed. She was locked in the kitchen and we left without further incident.   By the way, if you saw the photos of the bike bones, we saw another one on the next block. The neighborhood was quiet, though.

The journal was uploaded successfully and we headed downtown to see if we could find the Harley store and then head for Lakeshore Drive. We found parking in front of the Harley Store that was only mildly illegal and we rushed in. I bought a new hat, because mine was missing in action somewhere, and Bob was able to purchase something as well - I think it was a "small", but I am not sure.  As we exited the store, I had an awful feeling that I was about to have major problems.  For reasons that eluded me I was having the unmistakable feeling that I was not going to find a restroom in time. I ran across the street to the furniture store.  Have you ever gone into a furniture store and NOT been accosted by the "next" salesperson in the queue? It is impossible to go in and look without the human vultures circling overhead, ready to pounce. I, however, was able to dodge my vulture. It was easy.

"I am about to embarrass myself right here, right now, unless you tell me where the men's room is." It was on the second floor and boy, did that guy back off fast!!!  Boy that felt good.  I got back to the bike and we were off and running. After driving around for a bit, I realized that I wasn't feeling very good at all.  I found a McDonalds and we went in to eat. When we pulled into the parking lot, I told Bob that I wasn't in good enough shape to continue to ride the motorcycle. I wasn't safe. After eating I was feeling a bit better, however, so we saddled up and took off.

After locating Lakeshore Drive we headed south along the west coast of Lake Michigan. We moved through very nice neighborhoods that began to feel less inviting as we continued south.  Soon, the area started to be more industrial then anything else. Lakeshore Drive is Route 41. Readers of this journal may remember that I was at the "head" of Route 41 way up at the northern most point in the Keweenaw Peninsula. It ends in Miami Florida.

Entering Indiana was an emotional moment for me. It meant that I had no longer a need to count the states I had been in. Indiana was the last one. I have covered 33 states and the District of Columbia. Some states have been visited multiple times, due to the geography or for other reasons. Michigan was visited 3 times, as was New Hampshire. New York was visited twice as was Virginia and Wisconsin. Shortly after getting into Indiana I pulled over because I had that goofy weird feeling that I sometimes get when my blood sugar goes whacko. The blood test showed that levels were good, so there was something else going on.

I finally figured out that I was having the same feelings that I had been prone to have while moving through Arizona and Texas. We pulled in again and I retrieved some Gatorade from the cooler. After chugging that down, things returned to normal again. As Pat Cooperman used to say, "Onward and Upward."  As we were tooling around the southern edge of Lake Michigan, I was following a steel hauler 18 wheeler. The steel load was covered by a tarp, but it was the back of the tarp that had me actually follow the guy to a truck stop refueling station, JUST so I could shake his hand. See the photos in my next submission.

Bob and I had decided that Muskegon would be our goal for the evening and it certainly was obtainable. We stopped in Saugatuck for dinner, but to my son's relief, we didn't stay there. I have to say that Saugatuck feels more like Santa Barbara, California than anything else.  It is a very picturesque (isn't that an overused word?) and also a very wealthy place. As we entered Muskegon a pickup truck with far too much baled hay loaded on, and a beater pulled out of a driveway far too close to be comfortable. I turned on my signal and moved with alacrity into the left lane. As I moved abreast of the pickup, I noticed that the fellow driving was having trouble controlling the truck. It was moving into my lane and into ME!!!! The front wheels were barely touching the ground. I made it QUITE clear that he should stay in his own lane and stay out of mine.  I am not sure he got the complete message, but I am absolutely sure that he understood the hand signals.