Kalamazoo
I was in Michigan over the 4th. In Kalamazoo the weather is always a primary topic of conversation-- even more than usual this time. On the day I arrived we had an incredibly nasty thunderstorm that wrecked the town and took out power for several days. We got 5" of rain in an hour, and the lid of a metal Webber grill was blowing around in the wind. During the height of the storm, I stood on my mom's screened porch with my brother and sister. My brother compared it to being on the deck of a ship during a hurricane. We yelled into the wind, got soaking wet, drank vodka and played "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" at full volume until the power went out.
On the 4th, I went to my sister's house, and it was so cold I could see my breath. My sister put on a full show of illegal fireworks, including the "Ha-Ha Fountain", which shot sparks, waited 30 seconds, then shot some more (one unsuspecting victim tried to get a beer during the lull). She lives directly beneath power lines, and every third or fourth rocket would hit the lines and threaten to head towards the crowd. They seemed unconcerned: "Power is out anyway, what does it matter?" Another highlight-- the extremely dangerous, hand-held roman candles.
This was another reminder that my sister's friends are rednecks. Her boyfriend's mother showed up (sans front teeth) with the line "I just hit a retard with my cane!" But everyone was friendly (if a tad racist). I'm surprised by the paranoia and conspiracy theories that many people seemed to have. People are scared to death of the police, government, terrorists... you name it. My dad said they shut down a parking garage at a local Grand Rapids movie theater for six months because it presented too much of a target. I thought "these people are insane". My dad and step-mom also told me of their theory about a cure for cancer. Of course it was available, but would never be given to the public. "Think of all of the cancer doctors who would be out of work, they'd never let that happen". The sad thing is... they weren't kidding. I told them the idea was stupid, and we rode in silence for 30 minutes.
But overall, it was a great trip. I got a chance to play tennis and golf, drink Oberon, hang out with the family and see my friend Rando from high school. Also watched Wall-E (which was great), and showed my brother "Stop Making Sense", which he said was the best movie he's seen in three years.
Speaking of David Byrne-- I recently found his blog. During my trip to LA in February, we though we spotted him at the Institute for Jurassic Technology. Turns out we were correct:
From his blog: (http://journal.davidbyrne.com/2008/02/index.html)
We all head off to the Museum of Jurassic Technology, and M loves the room with 3-D images of X-rayed flowers (i.e., The Floral Stereoradiographs of Albert G. Richards). Neither she nor C has ever been here before, so the mixture of the real (the stereoradiographs are comprised of a single image and don’t require the use of a special viewer) and the imaginary (dioramas and letters regarding an imaginary opera singer’s spectacular exploits, for example) is a bit of a head twister at first. “Wait, THAT is real, I’m sure, but does that mean THAT might be real too?” The answers to such questions are never given, and the succession of dark Victorian rooms with eccentric, spotlit displays creates a mood of time warp and possibility.
One room has a new exhibit of paintings of all the dogs that the Russians sent into space. Are these real? Yes, I think so, but I’m not sure if they are mid-century Russian paintings, or more recent ones. Laika is given pride of place, or course, but there are a whole slew of them, all mutts, posed for their heroic portraits. They were gathered from the streets of Moscow, we are told, and trained to wear doggie pressure suits and to withstand the G-forces during the launch. Many of them returned as well, one of whom later sired a litter of puppies. She had company on her voyage - another dog, two rats, forty mice, and some greenery.
On the 4th, I went to my sister's house, and it was so cold I could see my breath. My sister put on a full show of illegal fireworks, including the "Ha-Ha Fountain", which shot sparks, waited 30 seconds, then shot some more (one unsuspecting victim tried to get a beer during the lull). She lives directly beneath power lines, and every third or fourth rocket would hit the lines and threaten to head towards the crowd. They seemed unconcerned: "Power is out anyway, what does it matter?" Another highlight-- the extremely dangerous, hand-held roman candles.
This was another reminder that my sister's friends are rednecks. Her boyfriend's mother showed up (sans front teeth) with the line "I just hit a retard with my cane!" But everyone was friendly (if a tad racist). I'm surprised by the paranoia and conspiracy theories that many people seemed to have. People are scared to death of the police, government, terrorists... you name it. My dad said they shut down a parking garage at a local Grand Rapids movie theater for six months because it presented too much of a target. I thought "these people are insane". My dad and step-mom also told me of their theory about a cure for cancer. Of course it was available, but would never be given to the public. "Think of all of the cancer doctors who would be out of work, they'd never let that happen". The sad thing is... they weren't kidding. I told them the idea was stupid, and we rode in silence for 30 minutes.
But overall, it was a great trip. I got a chance to play tennis and golf, drink Oberon, hang out with the family and see my friend Rando from high school. Also watched Wall-E (which was great), and showed my brother "Stop Making Sense", which he said was the best movie he's seen in three years.
Speaking of David Byrne-- I recently found his blog. During my trip to LA in February, we though we spotted him at the Institute for Jurassic Technology. Turns out we were correct:
From his blog: (http://journal.davidbyrne.com/2008/02/index.html)
We all head off to the Museum of Jurassic Technology, and M loves the room with 3-D images of X-rayed flowers (i.e., The Floral Stereoradiographs of Albert G. Richards). Neither she nor C has ever been here before, so the mixture of the real (the stereoradiographs are comprised of a single image and don’t require the use of a special viewer) and the imaginary (dioramas and letters regarding an imaginary opera singer’s spectacular exploits, for example) is a bit of a head twister at first. “Wait, THAT is real, I’m sure, but does that mean THAT might be real too?” The answers to such questions are never given, and the succession of dark Victorian rooms with eccentric, spotlit displays creates a mood of time warp and possibility.
One room has a new exhibit of paintings of all the dogs that the Russians sent into space. Are these real? Yes, I think so, but I’m not sure if they are mid-century Russian paintings, or more recent ones. Laika is given pride of place, or course, but there are a whole slew of them, all mutts, posed for their heroic portraits. They were gathered from the streets of Moscow, we are told, and trained to wear doggie pressure suits and to withstand the G-forces during the launch. Many of them returned as well, one of whom later sired a litter of puppies. She had company on her voyage - another dog, two rats, forty mice, and some greenery.