Mitten Meanderings

Maybe it’s the commercials showing vast expanses of blue water, cherry trees, and smiling faces. Perhaps it’s the countless “Great Lakes” license I’ve seen the past few weeks. Or maybe it’s been the string of impossibly hot weather that commenced on Nashville before summer even started. Whatever it is, I am jonesin for summertime in Michigan.

I miss waking up to cool temperatures, and being able to dine outside in the evening without feeling the prick of perspiration. I miss needing a sweatshirt on cool nights, even when it was August. I miss breezy weekends in the sun, complete with surprise sunburns because I was lured into a false sense of security by the cooler temperatures.

I miss ice cream parlors. Real ice cream parlors with names the The Taystee Freeze, Ice Cream Junction, and The Grill and Chill. No homogenized, sterile, brightly lit, marble slab-with-all-the-fixins conglomerate. I want to slurp a hand dipped chocolate-covered vanilla cone while sitting on a weathered picnic table. Watch people come to the window in ill-fitting summer garb and order banana splits. Play the batting cages until the sun sets. And not to mention the ice cream flavors. Where is my Mooney’s Blue Moon? Tell me where I can find real Superman ice cream, and I will spend the rest of my days trying to avoid dripping pink, yellow, and blue drops on my clothes.

And what about the water? What about never being more than an hour’s drive away from a real lake? Not the man made stuff, with built-in grades and two feet of sand shoveled in from some foreign county. I’m talking sand dunes, light houses, and drop-offs that make you scream for your mommy. How I miss the stretches of time spent water skiing, fishing, and soaking up sun from my spot on the boat. How I crave dipping my toes in the water from the edge of the dock.

I miss getting in the car and heading to Pine Knob (sorry, I refuse to call it the DTE Energy something-or-other) for some amazing outdoor music. Where are the shows at The Fillmore, The Shelter, Saint Andrews, or the Royal Oak Theater? Gone are the days of sprawling out on a blanket at Meadowbrook Music Festival.

I’m craving YaYa’s chicken, Boston Coolers from Halo Burger, and mostaccioli al forno from Italia Gardens. I would love to pick-up a Reuben from Oliver T’s and an iced coffee at Tim Horton’s for lunch. I miss happy hours at Damon’s, Grand Blanc Inn, and Blackstone’s. Hell, I’d even settle for a coney at Angelo’s right now.

I know that in a little while, I’ll be back for a visit. And I’ll get my fix, and realize that I’ve spent a month romanticizing all of the things that I was so used to before. I’ll come back to the sultriness of the south and be ok for a few more months. Then, I’ll start missing Christmastime in the Midwest.

Help me, help me, help me sail away
Well, give me two good reasons why I oughta stay
Cause I love to live so pleasantly
Live this life of luxury
Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon