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| Photo at our anniversary dinner in Holland, MI |
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| Wendall and Alexx |
At the casino campground (We played "Texas Hold 'em" to determine if we got running water or not), our neighbor was the most pleasant Dennis Blasnik. He and his wife are full-timers, living in their RV after selling their home. They were just going to do the RV life for 5 years, but right now they’re on year 12 and going strong. It's something to which I aspire. Diedre just wants comfortable shoes. Interestingly, Dennis’s son was a pro hockey player who for 16 years wore the colors of the Pittsburgh Penguins as well as a few other teams.
Five years ago Jimmy Erickson had recruited me for his new Over-60 Men's Softball Tournament team. I had played against Jimmy for several years before that and had always admired the way he played. I had continually told teams I wasn't interested in getting back into travel-team softball, something that had dominated my life in my 20's and 30's, much to the detriment of my social life. But this was a chance to play with Jimmy Erickson, Michigan Softball Hall of Fame member and all-around good guy. And the team he had put together, while they were all good players, better yet were all good guys. Nothing worse on a softball team than having some superstar with an ego problem. This team, the "Rox" had none of that nonsense.
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| Alexx and Jimmy with Softball Trophy |
We had talked about our RV adventure several years ago. Jimmy and his wonderful wife Carol insisted we make Mount Pleasant, Michigan, a stop on our way around the country. They would show us the town, "their" town, and we would have a great time ... only, Jimmy chose this time (not really his "choice") to have hip-replacement surgery. AUGHH! By the time we reached the Erickson estate on July 8, Jimmy was homebound exercising with his walker but in no shape to go out on the town with us, much less play any softball, at least until January. Of course, with his new hip and all, I see great things for Jimmy and me forming a killer 2-man sand volleyball team. I can just see us: two old guys jumping and diving in the sand. We ought to be good for a game or two.
The sheer number of coincidences we share with the Ericksons are immense; Diedre, a Minnesota girl, taught school in Michigan in the same town in which Jimmy grew up, and she taught at the same time as Jim and Carol were teaching in Michigan; and of course, there's that major coincidence from the previous blog (West Michigan) whereby the husband of the matron of honor at our wedding was (and is) Jimmy's 1st cousin; and lastly, there's that thing where Carol and I went to different high schools together ... weird or what?
On our first night in the east (o.k., maybe central) of Michigan, Carol
took us to the local Applebee’s where we were made a part of a longtime Erickson tradition: for the past 12 years every Monday night, they would meet up with their myriad golfing friends there for dinner and a beer. Soooo, on our 1st night in Mount Pleasant, that's where we were. NOTE: I looked everywhere, in the city parks, out in the farmers' feedlots, even in Jimmy's underwear drawer, but I came to the conclusion that ... “Mountain” in Mount Pleasant does not exist. Cue the spooky music. O.K., back to Applebee's. The Erickson friends were an utterly charming group of people, and they definitely knew their way around restaurant deals and coupons. As soon as we arrived, we were taken in as if we were old friends; the guys immediately seated me with them as is the good Dutch tradition, of which Jimmy is strong with; Diedre, meanwhile, was relegated to the “ladies” part of the table, where conversation tended towards religion,
politics, and grandchildren. At the men's half of the table, as usual, the topics of the day were beer, sports history, and fart jokes.
Jimmy's buddies were an eclectic crew: first there was Harry who runs 6-13 miles ... EVERY day! I mean, I thought my walking 3 miles a day for over 550 consecutive days was a big deal, but Harry's regimen is just sick. He's 65, looks 45, and has run marathons on all 8 continents … what’s that, dear? … 6 continents? … Oh, I don’t think so … well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree, won’t we … So, where was I? Oh yes, Harry running marathons on “6” continents. Of course at the Antarctica marathon, he was probably the only entrant except for 2 seals and a musk ox, so it's not quite as big a deal as I thought. Of course, being the only human entrant made him the winner … although technically, I suppose, it also meant he also finished in last place, but that’s neither here nor there.
Norb is a giant friend of Jimmy’s who played football at Central Michigan University in the 60's. He was one of the last players ever to play on both offense and defense, and he did that for 4 years. YIKES! Of course, if you saw Norb, you’d understand why: he is one BIG guy!
And then there’s E’s(one of many nicknames for Jimmy) friend Rick. I just love this story. Rick lives in the house right behind the Ericksons. Years ago when their kids were young, Jimmy was putting in a pool. An evil idea came to mind, and before you knew it, he had talked Rick into putting a lit, full-sized basketball court in his backyard. Jimmy ostensibly offered that it would be where the “kids” could play. Smarter minds saw what was really happening. The court was really there to provide former Central Michigan University star basketball player Jimmy Erickson with a place to play. So Jimmy used his extensive mediation skills (the same ones he honed on his own kids when trying to convince them to eat broccoli) into convincing Rick to put in the court. And of course, Rick being Rick, he went ahead with the project. The punch line to this is, he waited and waited before finally asking wife Paula the $64,000 question: “Dear, what would you think about us putting in a basketball court in our backyard?" And Paula, sensible woman that she is, knowing full well that their kids were out of the house, expressed her skepticism. “So … when would we do this?” she pointedly asked. “Oh,” said Rick looking down at his watch, “in about 20 minutes.”
BA-DUM-BUM!
Thus, the pool and the basketball court became the center of the kids’ universe for years to come. First the young kids would play basketball, making way for Jim and the other adults to play the later games while the kids hit the pool. Eventually, the kids got bigger and better than the adults, so Jim and the boys were eventually relegated to the earlier time slot. On the plus side, it did make it easier for them to hit the “Early Bird Senior Specials” at the local restaurants.
With Jimmy on the injured reserve, that put Carol into the starting lineup for group tours. She proceeded to chauffeur us on a tour that would make Princess Cruise Lines envious. We hit the local Indian cultural center, then jetted off to Clare, MI, to see where E taught for 32 years. Jimmy taught PE with a sociology degree—go figure that one out. We finished up at Ruby Tuesdays where we brought home to Jimmy his favorite take-out dinner: goat's liver, succotash, and asparagus with mayonnaise. Needles to say, he would not share with anyone, which was fortunate for the rest of us.
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| Alexx and Carol at Buck's Run Golf Club |
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| Alexx at the Loons stadium in Midland |
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| Comparing surgery scars |
Soon enough we were off on our merry way once again, this time heading south and east to the idyllic Algonac campground on the shores of the St. Clair River. And what does one do when one reaches such a beautiful place in nature? Why, one runs off to a Polish Craft Festival in Sterling Heights, MI, of course.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! (Represents us backing up) Diedre, among many other talents, was a third generation graduate of Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. Like her mother and grandmother who went there before her (because going there after her would have just been plain silly) Diedre also started out as a teacher before going on to greater things, the least of which was becoming my wife. I mean, have you seen me try to change a flat tire? Anyway, her closest associates at good old WMU (school motto: We're Not the Harvard of the Midwest, but We Do Validate) were Terry and Jerry Guirey and Mike Stack. For two years, they were all the best of friends, doing everything together. Diedre and Terry (a woman for you nosy Nates) were especially close. Feeling unloved, unwanted, and unwashed, they once ran away from school ... these were 18-year old, semi-adults, mind you. They were either going to Montana or downtown Kalamazoo (a scant 6 blocks from their dormitory). They opted to stay local in their desperate flight from the horrid lives they were leading as care free college freshmen. After stealing an ample number of sandwiches from the college cafeteria to get them to Montana (2 sandwiches each), these gastronomical nomads proceeded directly to an Army surplus store, since it was a well known fact that when running away from college, the main thing you want to lug with you is an M-16 rifle and a 14-weeks supply of C-Rations. In the end, they ended up buying army pea coats and, of all things, a machete. Because if you’re a couple of hot gals on the lam from … from nobody, I guess, the first thing you want to have on the mean streets of Kalamazoo, Michigan, is a machete. Who knows, maybe they were going out to cut some wild sugar cane.
Somewhere in this bloated blog of 3 months, I must have mentioned how the two of us were going to attempt to see a major league baseball game in every stadium by 2015. Sunday, July 14, we made it to park #14: the home field of the Detroit Tigers. Now, you ladies may be thinking, "How come Diedre has to go to all those furshlugginer baseball games? What's in it for her?" Well, dear baboons, our agreement was that we'd see a lot of stage plays on this trip to more than equalize the baseball fever that has afflicted me since age 4. So after that afternoon's game, I made good on my promise by taking Diedre a theatre right across the street from Comerica Park. The show was called “Ernie.” It was a play about the Detroit Tigers' long-time broadcaster Ernie Harwell. So there!
And now for the main reason for this trip, besides a visit to Wall Drug and the chance to climb Mount Noot-Newy: we were off for Cleveland where the holy grail of men's 60+ softball, the Senior Olympics, was to be contested. It was time for us, all of the Rox's Mesa, AZ, team to man up. It was up to us to take the bull by the tail and face the situation.
I could do that.
Talk to you next after Cleveland.
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A note from Diedre:
Some of you want an update on how the three kids are doing...our cats...so I thought I'd add this proof that they are well adjusted to the RV life:
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| Samantha, Casey and Charlie enjoying the couch. |
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| The boys awaiting our arrival home from a day of play. |
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