Phasing Into Reality… The Easy Way

Christa is all worried that I’ll be in for a big letdown when I return to “life as normal” in Gaylord. There’s a triple dose of ant-depressants waiting for me, just in case. I think I’ll be busy enough; producing the Gaylord Community Productions play “Aladdin”, looking for a teaching job, working on our yard, getting ready for Andrea’s graduation party, working as a golf ranger at the Black Forest, looking for a teaching job (did I already say that?) But Christa is right, as usual. So today I started phasing my way back into a normal lifestyle.

I ate a big stack of pancakes at Wheeler’s Restaurant in Standish first thing in the morning. (I think it was called Wheeler’s – let me know if I’m wrong.) I found out that I am the sole surviving bicyclist who ever rode on M-13. Maybe it’s because I try to be invisible sometimes….. Anyway, they were a pretty lively morning crew and I told them the Bay City Times was doing an article about my trip. After breakfast, I went to post my blog at the internet café next store, and lo and behold, the owner of the breakfast place tracked me down, marching in with a couple of copies of the article. I love small towns.

Here’s where the normal routine comes in. I cycled from Standish to Dennis and Cathy’s cottage at Forest Lake (near Alger), took a shower. A few minutes later my brother John and his buddy Mike Bostic came rolling into the driveway to pick me up, so we could meet Dennis and his friends at The Dream golf course. Mike pulled off his dream last year. He’s 43 years ago and just enlisted in the Army National Guard. He was the oldest recruit in a class of 173, and now he’s a scout with the possibility of serving in Afghanistan or Iraq next year. Way to go, Bostic! “Call for Fire! Fire in the Hole! Fire for Effect!”

Saturday golfing; that’s normal, isn’t it. The weather was pretty nice for 8 ½ holes, but coming into the 9^th green it looked like the scene from Caddyshack where the priest is having the round of his life. The rain was blowing sideways, and you could almost parasail with your rain jacket if you were standing at the right angle. John, Mike and I decided to get a rain check for the second nine. The Findley foursome played on into the rainy, 55 degree evening.

Now, let me tell you something about people from Ohio. They have an inferiority complex when it comes to Michigan, I think; like they always have to prove something. I know that we were warm, dry, enjoying the cottage and putting down a few beers. They said they had a good time too, but when we met them the famous Hank’s restaurant at 9:30pm they looked pretty sad. Real sad. John and I were going to sing a little Karaoke after dinner, but we felt sorry for them and decided to just return to the cottage and take their money playing Texas Hold ‘Em.

Worked out for me and Walton. He was the first man out the first game, and he ended up dealing most of the night. But he finished second the next game and broke even. Dean Hunter and I split the first pot. I was the first man out the second game, (must be a Bono thing – big risk, big reward theory) and Jeff won the pot. Dennis played his usual conservative style, but we could never really figure out his other buddy, Gerry Slezak. My bet is that nobody ever has.

It’s Sunday morning, and I just made a big pancake and egg breakfast for the golfers, while I listened to my favorite Frank Sinatra CD. I even washed the dishes. That’s another dose of reality. Dean found some morel mushrooms right off the deck, so you could call the scrambled eggs gourmet, if you want. I did. Bono men have a hereditary thing about breakfast, and it felt mighty fine cooking and eating it.

I think I’m ready to go home. I’m pretty sure I won’t a have a mental letdown. And I’m totally sure I’ll be making breakfast there.