Down Days are Good Days
March 11, 2025
My objective in spending time in Ann Arbor is to see Peter and Maya.. with a huge caveat. They are working full time and have all kinds of activities and commitments, so get together opportunities happen when they happen. This is 100% a-ok with me; I am not there to be entertained. I use the non-Peter/Maya time to take walks, go to cafes, write, read, catch up, do puzzes, see Lisa and Claire, and in between all that, hang out at the Burnt Toast and talk with Sarah. When Jim’s with me, we try to do other slightly more formal things like explore Detroit or other neighboring towns, explore U of M.. whatever we can find.
This morning I hung around the BT for the morning, then wandered to town and spent a couple early afternoon hours at Zingerman’s, browsed a couple shops, including State and Liberty (where we got Peter a Christmas gift card for a suit) and the Himalayan Bazaar (where I got an idea for a graduation gift).
Around 4:45, I headed out to meet Peter and Maya — post work — at the relatively new Lowertown Cafe (near Northside and Broadway Auto). On my way down there, B.A. called to say the car was ready (nice!) and I made it down there before they closed (or near enough). Drove across the street, parked, and met those fantastic kids for beers. Peter even treated (nice!). Lowertown’s a pretty nice spot! We even drank outside.
After that we had a great, if noisy, dinner at Mani Osteria, and after that spent some time at the B&B talking about our country’s march toward authoritarianism. The kids wanted a Gus fix, but he and Sarah were nowhere to be found.
In spite of the sunshine and the fact the temps are rising (Lisa said the days are 30 degrees warmer this week than last!), Ann Arbor’s still decked out in holiday regalia (as was Grinnell). Must be too cold to get up on cranes to take everything down, yet. This is what a downtown city street looks like in the winter…
This is what I’d consider a perfect (or at least perfectly acceptable) way to spend an Ann Arbor day.
Iowa –> Michigan
March 10, 2025
Travel day.
Matt and I both had flights departing from Des Moines airport, so we checked out and headed west along Monday morning Iowa roads…
Matt and I returned our car (a huge black Cadillac SUV), had time for a relaxed cup of coffee and a snacky breakfast, then we went out separate ways (my flight left around 10:30, arrived 1:00 in Detroit, 1.5 hours with 1 hour time shift). Lisa was on the other end of mine, which was just the smoothest pick up. Headed right to Kerrytown for some coffee and a sandwich at Sweetwater.
(This photo confirms my 20 extra pounds right now.. ugh.) (Hi, Bubba!) (As I sit here at Avalon Cafe in downtown Ann Arbor catching up on days of blogs, I’m eating a giant chocolate cookie and drinking my third latte of the day… hmmm…. )
Lisa then helped choreograph the rest of the afternoon… ditch my bag at Burnt Toast and figure out how to meet up with Peter on campus, get his car at the coop, and assess a flat tire issue. A call to Broadway Auto offered a great solution (Peter’s car was due for routine service and they could address the tire). While seemingly simple, it felt more like a fox and chicken crossing the river on a raft problem, what with multiple vehicles, people and destinations. But we figured it all out. Got to see Peter’s office in the process and the $8,000 (was it?) couch that he and another grad student acquired as part of an office redecoration project that began years ago but got caught up in university bureaucracy)! A swell afternoon! Here’s P’s office + couch.
Peter and Maya had coop shifts to work this night, so I returned to the ever-wonderful Burnt Toast, settled in, got some Sarah time… all lovely. I was without a dinner plan, so Sarah offered some of her black eye lamb soup and rustic toast. Excellent. And so nice to be back in Ann Arbor!
A Sunday in Grinnell
March 9, 2025
Here are some photo highlights of a typical Sunday in Iowa in tow with cousins:
Checked out of the Hotel Grinnell, and headed over to Aunt Bonnie’s where she supplied us with coffee (with Bailey’s) and cinnamon rolls. We talked…
As seen around Bonnie’s house…
Both Kevin and Kyle have painted Iowa barns. Both of these hang on the wall in the great room, Kevin’s on left, Kyle’s on right. Both lovely in their own way and totally reflective of the artist!
Such a cozy home…
After a couple hours, we headed out to tour Grinnell..
Here’s a Frank Lloyd Wright house:
Here’s the house where Bonnie spent the first five years of her life (either that, or it’s the house she was conceived in.. but let’s not worry about that detail).
I love the Iowa aesthetic… simple homes on hills, farms and farm equipment everywhere, corn rows — also everywhere. I enjoy the brown, leaflessness of winter.
There were numerous murals around town honoring Edith Renfrow Smith, who was the first African American to graduate from Grinnell College. She’s still alive, living in Chicago and is 110 years old and counting.
They also had some historical murals celebrating old Grinnell, like this one of the Grinnell High School football team, coached by Kenny Starbuck, Aunt Bonnie’s dad. He also coached basketball and track. And probably taught English, though I’d have to check that out.
Grinnell is a welcoming place, I’m pleased to say:
And then… Bonnie, being Bonnie, wanted to shop! So Matt, Kyle and I followed along. First, we went to Theisen’s (pronounced Ty-son’s). One can get pretty much whatever they want there, including tractors and baby chicks. Matt and/or I got Iowa jerky, Amana-made noodles, Iowa sausages, a large plaid wool-like anorak.. stuff like that.
We then spent another hour wandering the aisles of Walmart. Yup! I got some Iowa swag. When Bonnie says it’s a good day to shop, that’s what we do! She got a Swiffer and a cozy, soft cape. There ya go.
We returned home and Matt did some of this (he’s been fantasizing about sleeping in this leather chair for two years):
Kevin and Karla came by and we sat around and talked for a couple hours (or more). Then they took off and we had dinner. Bonnie made her famous baked minestrone and apple pie:
After dinner — more talk — then said goodbye to everyone, and Sadie, too.
Here are a couple photos of Bonnie in earier years…
A young Bonnie at the bar (when she wasn’t teaching first grade!):
Uncle Al, Bonnie, Kevin, Susan (adopted when she was 5) and Kyle:
Many Cornishes
March 8, 2025
It’s just lovely to wake up at the Hotel Grinnell. It’s a nice place.. simple, solid, spacious, well equipped, clever.
The Periodic Table, their cafe/bar/restaurant is about to be taken over by the Prairie Canary, so we were given vouchers for a couple places downtown for coffee and/or breakfast. We chose coffee and found the wonderful Saint’s Rest:
The rest of the day was all about Cornishes. We headed to Bonnie’s (Cornish) place on Turnbury… and dove right into food and conversation. And a little Bailey’s in our coffee.
Here’s Matt and Kyle (Cornish) diving deep.
We literally talked for hours. In the late afternoon, Keaton (Cornish) showed up and we had some really fun conversation about travel and hiking and Everest Base Camp. Kevin and Karla (Cornish) showed up a bit after that with Cam and Lincoln (Cornish), and most of the Beck clan — Scott, McKenna (formerly a Cornish), Gemma and Deacon (Lila was at her dad’s for the weekend up in Minnesota).
After hanging out for a good long while, we all headed to El Cascabel (which became a Mexican restaurant since last we visited). Had a great time!
We weren’t talked out yet, so went back to Aunt Bonnie’s house for more…
The brothers.. Kevin and Kyle.
I got to talk at length with Karla who told me all about ghosts, her former life as a high school and college athlete, and so much more.
It was exactly the kind of day I was looking forward to.
Iowa Bound
March 7, 2025
A airporty travel day… made more fun by the mid-transcontinental meet-up with Mutt the Butt in Phoenix…
…where we would then board the same plane bound for Des Moines. Late departures from both Long Beach (Matt) and Sac (me) seemed to doom our connecting flight to DM, but for the mechanical problems of our DM-bound plane. Instead of missing our flight, we sat for hours (and hours) in Phoenix. Hilariously, we almost missed that flight, as we’d been oblivious to a gate change along the way (thank goodness for big sisters who check these sorts of things). Our constant text updates to Karla in Grinnell kept everyone apprised, as our dinner reservation at the Prairie Canary kept shifting… but, eventually we met up.
They kept the restaurant open for us, which was great. What a surprise it was to walk in and see not only Aunt Bonnie, Kevin and Karla, but also Kyle, who’d driven up from Hernando, Mississippi to join us for the weekend!
After dinner, cards and presents, we went over to Bonnie’s house on Turnberry. Sat around and talked, while keeping an eye on the women’s college basketball conference tournament (was it the championship game? It might have been..). Iowans really cheer for Iowan teams. Caitlyn Clark (now pro, but who played for U of Iowa) was in the building, which was pretty exciting for everyone. She’s a genuine local super star. Eyes transfixed:
Matt and I then dragged our tired selves to the Hotel Grinnell… which, according to the National Trust for Historic Preservation, is considered an Historic Hotel of America, mostly because it’s housed in a former (huge, brick/concrete) high school. Its hallways are wide, its ceilings high, its windows stretch to those high ceilings. The rooms are cavernous.. and charmingly appointed with school-related things like chalkboards and hall passes. I love the place. Matt’s less enamored (I think he prefers a higher degree of service and comfort). Aunt Bonnie’s dad — Kenny Starbuck — used to teach there (and coach football, basketball and track), and she used to run the halls. I believe they moved before she was school aged, so she never attended Grinnell High School.
Fun Fact: Kenny Starbuck was recently inducted into the Grinnell (something) Hall of Fame. I’ll talk about that in a subsequent post.
Acacias and Redbuds and Friends, Oh My
March 6, 2025
A rare coming together of the trio of Carrie, Kari and Lorilyn. Great to catch up on kids, aging, mutual friends and a wee (only a wee) bit of politics.
Way With Words
March 5, 2025
As yesterday’s post suggests, I did snag a few watch minutes of the not-called-a-State-of-the-Union speech to Congress last night. Not really willingly. In and out, mostly out, but caught [more than] enough clips in the follow-up commentary for gist and flavor.
I have a non-paid subscription to Rick Wilson’s Substack. I’d pay just for the pleasure of reading the words he puts together in sentence after sentence (truly delicious), but damn, I have too many paid Substack subscriptions as it is. I’m sure runaway Substack subscriptions are becoming a problem for folks, in the same way that having too many jars of nuts and candy on one’s kitchen island is…
Non-paid subcriptions get you a smattering of full essays each week, and daily teasers to full essays. Today’s was one of the teasers, but isn’t it great? Just enough deliciousness to satisfy.
100 Minutes of Lies
Dear God, That Was Worse Than Even I Expected.
Well, that’s 100 minutes of our lives we’ll never get back.
Trump’s big Joint Address to Congress read as if the White House staff told ChatGPT, “Give me a State of the Union speech that’s Castro in length, Von Munchausen in facts, and Culture War Carnival Barker in style. Oh, and make it tendentious, boring, and ugly.”
What else did one expect?Trump’s speech last night was dull yet terrifying. It was self-referential and self-aggrandizing yet vaguely desperate. It was Trump at his worst, but it also showed America that all he’s got is his base and his same tired bit, his greatest hits played over and over, louder and louder, to an audience getting older, poorer, and more vicious in its demands that their umber demigod give them that old-time religion.
It was divisive, terrible, and badly written, a speech so clunky and organizationally and rhetorically grotesque that even if Ted Sorenson, Ray Price, and William Safire rose from the grave and sat down with Peggy Noonan and Aaron Sorkin for a fortnight, they couldn’t find enough creative mayonnaise to turn that chickenshit into chicken salad. Almost every State of the Union speech ends up with a kind of freight-train problem; too many constituent groups inside the Administration need their paragraph, their nod to their importance.
This graceless bucket of rhetorical fish guts was a catalog of “Now That’s What I Call Culture War! Volume 27” tropes, riffs, and attacks on the usual Catalog of Imaginary Demons that informs MAGA belief and behavior. None of it was new or more shocking than the first 1,000 times.
But it was the stunning disregard for truth that set this speech apart.
Trump opened his lie hole and sluiced a torrent of outright lies into the willing maw of his dull-eyed, bovine audience watching at home hooked to their Fox feed of amygdala-stoking fear porn. The absurdity of his lies was rivaled only by their scope.
That photo, borrowed also from Rick’s Substack, borrowed himself from somewhere else, no doubt. And isn’t that just a best placement on the congressional rope line?
The Sad State of Our Union
March 4, 2025
It’s come to this…
It’s really hard to know what to do. Call him out? Sit there and take it? Walk out? Not show up at all? Silently protest? Loudly protest? Sit in silence? They go low, we go high? They go low, we go lower? Business as usual? Clap at the good stuff? Clap at nothing? Accept that the game’s changed and act accordingly?
All of it is criticized. How do you meet the moment? Dems have never figured it out.
One thing’s certain: these are not normal times.
Little Puffer Bellies All in a Row
March 3, 2025
I wished I’d gotten more pictures of the sky today. Today is exactly why spring is such a gem of a season… the air was tinged with warmth and was so clean and so clear. The sky was impossibly blue and dotted with those perfectly white puffer bellies.
(I know that the song about puffer bellies refers to trains, but I’m assigning the term to clouds here because it’s my blog and I’m allowed.)
Sour grass has exploded yellow all over our neighborhood, including in our yard, and trees are blossoming with their own puff balls of white and pink. Some are sprouting wee leaves of green — all dewy and fresh.
Here’s the one picture I got today.. our own backyard birch against that champ of a blue sky, with a couple fuzzy puffer bellies aloft.
Mick
March 2, 2025
I hate to say how many hours I devoted to watching the Oscars today… what with coverage of the Red Carpet, the actual show, and then the after parties… it was the better part of my Sunday. Lots of fun fashion, lots of stars, and all manner of awards handed out (or not) for movies we’d seen (saw all of them, I believe, so had plenty of skin in the game, or at least opinions and favorites). I can say I got some good exercise while watching: spent a solid hour of the show hiking uphill on my treadmill, and another good bit of time on my stationary bike! Spent another portion of the show sitting by the fire drinking a cold smoothie. Luxuriated in all of it. Watched on Hulu (which I had to subscribe to this afternoon in order to get the show at all). After three-plus hours, and at the moment the last two awards were to be handed out, Hulu’s coverage of the Oscars abruptly stopped (clearly an accident). This apparently and understandably outraged viewers from coast to coast, including me! Two of the most anticipated awards of the night… OMG! Thankfully, the news was readily available within minutes, and Youtube had clips up pretty fast, so all was well.
One of my favorite parts of the evening was when Mick Jagger came out to present the Oscar for best song. Don’t really remember the song (it was from Emilia Perez), but it was a gas to see him appear on stage. This isn’t much of a pic, but it’s the best I could snap as I was treadmilling along. He was really funny.
Life of Wry 