Old Friends
Like most days this week, it would have felt great to lay in bed for another two hours and finally feel well rested, but time was ticking away and Sam had to go to work after breakfast. I got up and we headed into Cincinnati.
Yesterday’s Belgian waffle was an exciting food discovery: chewy, delicious, sweet and complex. Sam had said everything besides the waffles at that place was awesome but he prefers his to be pancake-y and American (my description of his tastes). Not me, and I was reminded of that when we walked into First Watch, the same place we went when Mom, Dad, and Eric came down to Cincinnati to meet up a few years back. I thought I’d gotten past my aversion to American breakfast, but… not really. The waffle was fine. The sausage and scrambled eggs were perfectly adequate. But nowhere near in the league of total awesome as the Taste of Belgium authentic waffle. I could pretty easily go another six months from now without eating any more eggs, waffles, pancakes, or syrup. I can probably manage a bit more sausage and bacon.
After breakfast Sam and I parted ways, promising to see each other next Monday if not earlier on a Cincinnati drive-thru. It would have been nice to stay longer, but maybe it’s better to split while things are still fun and before the weather takes too much toll. Crossing the bridge back into Kentucky, I found the Cincinnati area Meijer with a gas station (the other one on the Ohio side doesn’t have one), filled up, and headed north.
Either my contacts are dirty or old, or my new sunglasses give me a headache, or I’ve evolved away from being able to deal with bright sunny days, or my repeated short nights had just worn my eyes out. Whatever the case, I was struggling most of the drive to stay lucid and be able to see. Oakley lenses are worth the investment may be the forgotten lesson. And I’m happier with 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
On this return trip, following the GPS directions led me off the Interstate and along those same Ohio highways of farmland and miles of enormous windmills. After slowing down for the Van Wert city limits, it seemed a shame not to stop and have a look around town. There’s a quaint main street where I found a coffee shop to raise my caffeine levels and stretched my weary legs.
By the time I made it back to the Interstate, driving got sunny and boring again. The van ate up mile after mile, but none were at all noteworthy until I got into Indiana and started to see tempting street signs for the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Automobile Museum in Auburn, IN. On a whim, and since it was still relatively early in the day, I pulled off to check it out.
In a wide variety of ways it was a trip down memory lane, combining years and years of combined interests, hobbies, memories, and imagined memories. In the summer of 1997 (I think, but maybe it was in ’96 after our junior year), while still on a Tucker ‘48 high, Dan Wells (who will figure in today’s tale more prominently later) came along on family vacation, which the two of us intended to be a Tucker pilgrimage to see as many as we could. Rather than follow a long tangent, I’ll reserve tomorrow’s post for a history of Tucker fandom. Today, I’ll just mention that one of those hallowed sites we set out to visit was the ACD Automobile Museum. They had a burgundy Tucker that’s no longer there. In fact, I think everything in the entire museum was completely innovated/renovated in the last 15 years. I didn’t recognize anything.
The museum is housed in what once was the Auburn car factory and it retains its glorious 1930’s art deco interiors in the showroom. Coming in from the lobby and seeing all the enormous road machines takes you back in time and I kept imagining Cary Grant or Clark Gable would step out of one of the Cords with suicide doors.
Someone who’s interested in more than just cars clearly put some imagination and time into the showroom exhibit. In front of each vehicle is a standard description of engine size, wheelbase and the like, but the last paragraph sets the manufacture date in a specific historical context. You can see cars made when Snow White was first released in theaters or when the Lindberg baby was kidnapped and killed. Many car museums are only about cars, so it’s refreshing to see one that’s about how cars have been part of American history over time.
Not having a lot of time to spend before continuing back north prevented me from having much more than a cursory look at all the exhibits. It would be fairly easy to spend three or four hours reading all information and watching the videos. Aside from lacking a Tucker, the museum was in no way boring or disappointing. Go visit!
Auburn is only a couple hours from Lansing so I arranged to meet Dad and Mom there to get some dinner before completing the journey home. We met up at the Meridian Mall then headed to Everyday Restaurant for some great Chinese food. As if it needs to be stated, few foods are more delicious than pork belly. It’s like unconditionally delicious bacon without the crispy or overly salty.
After lunch/dinner Dad took the van home and I stopped at a couple shops with Mom. Playmaker’s continues to improve and surprise. I didn’t buy anything, but if I lived in Michigan I would certainly get all my running gear there. Velocipede Peddler proved disappointing because although they had an MSU cycling jersey there for sale, I learned that Louis Garneu doesn’t fit me properly, even in size large. At least I wasn’t tempted to spend any money.
Hoping to see Scott Harris and give him a personal invite to the international dinner next week, we swung by Everybody Reads. He wasn’t there. There were a lot of role playing card collector kids though. And it smelled kind of like a litter box. Mom still bought something. We picked up a new telephone at Best Buy and an iced coffee from Katrina the “little boss” at Portland’s McDonalds before finally landing at home. I only touched down for about 10 minutes before I left again to go see Dan and Jenni and all the kids and the new house.
It’s been at least four years since the last time I saw Dan, possibly even longer. In that time, he has ended up with three kids and a fourth on the way. He owns two houses, the current one acquired in March and fully inhabited in May. His two daughters go to school in Lowell. And he lives in another uncompleted house. Other than that, is seemed like we were more or less able to pick up where we left off years ago.
“Dan Speaks” will have to wait for another day, too, but I was at his place for nearly five hours and it was so late when I got to Meijer after that I couldn’t pick up the photo DVD mom had sent me to get. Another long drive ahead tomorrow, but first thing is morning coffee with Kimberly. Still one more week of vacation time!
Yesterday’s Belgian waffle was an exciting food discovery: chewy, delicious, sweet and complex. Sam had said everything besides the waffles at that place was awesome but he prefers his to be pancake-y and American (my description of his tastes). Not me, and I was reminded of that when we walked into First Watch, the same place we went when Mom, Dad, and Eric came down to Cincinnati to meet up a few years back. I thought I’d gotten past my aversion to American breakfast, but… not really. The waffle was fine. The sausage and scrambled eggs were perfectly adequate. But nowhere near in the league of total awesome as the Taste of Belgium authentic waffle. I could pretty easily go another six months from now without eating any more eggs, waffles, pancakes, or syrup. I can probably manage a bit more sausage and bacon.
After breakfast Sam and I parted ways, promising to see each other next Monday if not earlier on a Cincinnati drive-thru. It would have been nice to stay longer, but maybe it’s better to split while things are still fun and before the weather takes too much toll. Crossing the bridge back into Kentucky, I found the Cincinnati area Meijer with a gas station (the other one on the Ohio side doesn’t have one), filled up, and headed north.
Either my contacts are dirty or old, or my new sunglasses give me a headache, or I’ve evolved away from being able to deal with bright sunny days, or my repeated short nights had just worn my eyes out. Whatever the case, I was struggling most of the drive to stay lucid and be able to see. Oakley lenses are worth the investment may be the forgotten lesson. And I’m happier with 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
On this return trip, following the GPS directions led me off the Interstate and along those same Ohio highways of farmland and miles of enormous windmills. After slowing down for the Van Wert city limits, it seemed a shame not to stop and have a look around town. There’s a quaint main street where I found a coffee shop to raise my caffeine levels and stretched my weary legs.
By the time I made it back to the Interstate, driving got sunny and boring again. The van ate up mile after mile, but none were at all noteworthy until I got into Indiana and started to see tempting street signs for the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Automobile Museum in Auburn, IN. On a whim, and since it was still relatively early in the day, I pulled off to check it out.
In a wide variety of ways it was a trip down memory lane, combining years and years of combined interests, hobbies, memories, and imagined memories. In the summer of 1997 (I think, but maybe it was in ’96 after our junior year), while still on a Tucker ‘48 high, Dan Wells (who will figure in today’s tale more prominently later) came along on family vacation, which the two of us intended to be a Tucker pilgrimage to see as many as we could. Rather than follow a long tangent, I’ll reserve tomorrow’s post for a history of Tucker fandom. Today, I’ll just mention that one of those hallowed sites we set out to visit was the ACD Automobile Museum. They had a burgundy Tucker that’s no longer there. In fact, I think everything in the entire museum was completely innovated/renovated in the last 15 years. I didn’t recognize anything.
The museum is housed in what once was the Auburn car factory and it retains its glorious 1930’s art deco interiors in the showroom. Coming in from the lobby and seeing all the enormous road machines takes you back in time and I kept imagining Cary Grant or Clark Gable would step out of one of the Cords with suicide doors.
Someone who’s interested in more than just cars clearly put some imagination and time into the showroom exhibit. In front of each vehicle is a standard description of engine size, wheelbase and the like, but the last paragraph sets the manufacture date in a specific historical context. You can see cars made when Snow White was first released in theaters or when the Lindberg baby was kidnapped and killed. Many car museums are only about cars, so it’s refreshing to see one that’s about how cars have been part of American history over time.
Not having a lot of time to spend before continuing back north prevented me from having much more than a cursory look at all the exhibits. It would be fairly easy to spend three or four hours reading all information and watching the videos. Aside from lacking a Tucker, the museum was in no way boring or disappointing. Go visit!
Auburn is only a couple hours from Lansing so I arranged to meet Dad and Mom there to get some dinner before completing the journey home. We met up at the Meridian Mall then headed to Everyday Restaurant for some great Chinese food. As if it needs to be stated, few foods are more delicious than pork belly. It’s like unconditionally delicious bacon without the crispy or overly salty.
After lunch/dinner Dad took the van home and I stopped at a couple shops with Mom. Playmaker’s continues to improve and surprise. I didn’t buy anything, but if I lived in Michigan I would certainly get all my running gear there. Velocipede Peddler proved disappointing because although they had an MSU cycling jersey there for sale, I learned that Louis Garneu doesn’t fit me properly, even in size large. At least I wasn’t tempted to spend any money.
Hoping to see Scott Harris and give him a personal invite to the international dinner next week, we swung by Everybody Reads. He wasn’t there. There were a lot of role playing card collector kids though. And it smelled kind of like a litter box. Mom still bought something. We picked up a new telephone at Best Buy and an iced coffee from Katrina the “little boss” at Portland’s McDonalds before finally landing at home. I only touched down for about 10 minutes before I left again to go see Dan and Jenni and all the kids and the new house.
It’s been at least four years since the last time I saw Dan, possibly even longer. In that time, he has ended up with three kids and a fourth on the way. He owns two houses, the current one acquired in March and fully inhabited in May. His two daughters go to school in Lowell. And he lives in another uncompleted house. Other than that, is seemed like we were more or less able to pick up where we left off years ago.
“Dan Speaks” will have to wait for another day, too, but I was at his place for nearly five hours and it was so late when I got to Meijer after that I couldn’t pick up the photo DVD mom had sent me to get. Another long drive ahead tomorrow, but first thing is morning coffee with Kimberly. Still one more week of vacation time!