Once upon a time, I went to Michigan, again.
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What I remember most about my recent trip to Michigan—though, there’s a part of me that would like to tell you what happened at the casino in Saganing, but it’s too soon—is the fact that I counted nineteen dead raccoons along the highway in a single two-hour ride from Lansing to a lakeside neighborhood outside an almost undetectable town called West Branch. Well, I remember that and also this: I discovered fried green peas. They were at a small grocery store known as Jay’s, which was next to an auto plaza known as Carl’s, which was just down the road from...
What happens when you’re late to the boat.
Most of the time, I have the best of intentions. A week into the oil devastation that now ravages our gulf coast, and I’d already registered my name with the Audubon Society as an eager volunteer, ready to give up his summer for the clean-up cause. That oil devastation, as you may know, is now going on Day 34, I believe. Or over a month, whichever sounds worse. This past weekend, though, I found myself in Biloxi, smack dab in the middle of Mississippi’s manmade coastline…and I didn’t clean up a thing. I didn’t have to. Now, it wasn’t entirely a planned trip. We’d...
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