Prairie Landing
Monday, March 28, 2005
Michigan, Napa Valley of the Midwest
About a month ago, when I was tumbling around the school/work vortex and was not keeping up with blogging, we went to visit my cousin Vino in Ann Arbor. Colliculus posted some pictures. This weekend, V. returned the favor for a most delightful visit, so it seems meet to discuss the significance of Michigan.
If you live on the East Coast, you probably don't think much about Michigan, unless you're Chesapeake Explorer who grew up there. However, it occupies a weird spot in the Upper Midwest mind.
First of all, there's the hand thing. You know, where people hold their right hand palm up and draw elaborate, invisible pictures of where they're from and where they went. Unless they're from the UP, in which case it doesn't work. But nobody's from the UP. Just like nobody's from sLower Delaware.
Everyone goes on vacation in Michigan. It's got the attractions of California with the climate of Maine. You go there to go skiing. To go on a wine tour. (There are DOZENS of wineries there.) To pick your own cherries and apples and strawberries. To go on a romantic getaway. To visit some adorable, unspoiled lakefront town -- so unspoiled, in fact, that you'd never dare actually go in the water because it's so frigid even in July. To go to the beach without all the fecal coliform warnings and other ickiness associated with Lake Michigan on the Illinois, Wisconsin and Indiana sides of things. Also, the sand is supposed to be softer but I don't believe that -- the sand at Chicago beaches is already unimaginably soft. It's like flannel.
So what the good people of Michigan want you to know is, if you think you need to leave the Midwest for a vacation, you're just not trying hard enough.
Vino actually brought some Michigan vino with him. I didn't try it because I'm still not supposed to drink wine. By all accounts, this was a most enviable blessing. Now there's a bottle lurking in our fridge, along with a bottle of normal wine I bought back in November when Binny's was having a sale.
If you live on the East Coast, you probably don't think much about Michigan, unless you're Chesapeake Explorer who grew up there. However, it occupies a weird spot in the Upper Midwest mind.
First of all, there's the hand thing. You know, where people hold their right hand palm up and draw elaborate, invisible pictures of where they're from and where they went. Unless they're from the UP, in which case it doesn't work. But nobody's from the UP. Just like nobody's from sLower Delaware.
Everyone goes on vacation in Michigan. It's got the attractions of California with the climate of Maine. You go there to go skiing. To go on a wine tour. (There are DOZENS of wineries there.) To pick your own cherries and apples and strawberries. To go on a romantic getaway. To visit some adorable, unspoiled lakefront town -- so unspoiled, in fact, that you'd never dare actually go in the water because it's so frigid even in July. To go to the beach without all the fecal coliform warnings and other ickiness associated with Lake Michigan on the Illinois, Wisconsin and Indiana sides of things. Also, the sand is supposed to be softer but I don't believe that -- the sand at Chicago beaches is already unimaginably soft. It's like flannel.
So what the good people of Michigan want you to know is, if you think you need to leave the Midwest for a vacation, you're just not trying hard enough.
Vino actually brought some Michigan vino with him. I didn't try it because I'm still not supposed to drink wine. By all accounts, this was a most enviable blessing. Now there's a bottle lurking in our fridge, along with a bottle of normal wine I bought back in November when Binny's was having a sale.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Forbidden lyrics
Here's my list of words that bands are NOT ALLOWED to rhyme anymore. You know, the lyrics where as soon as you hear the end of one line, you know exactly where the next line's gonna end up:
school, cool (Early rock bands did this one in, but Scholastic and Peanuts really turned the knife)
hips, lips
night, all right (also, "so right")
together, forever
city, pretty
school, cool (Early rock bands did this one in, but Scholastic and Peanuts really turned the knife)
hips, lips
night, all right (also, "so right")
together, forever
city, pretty
Monday, March 21, 2005
To the prairie!
Yesterday we wanted to go for a walk, but we couldn't think of anyplace to go. Not Uptown, not Ravenswood, not Lincoln Park, not by the lake. Finally I realized what was missing: non-city walking options. Colliculus and I had not set foot on ground that was not city, highway rest stop, or the suburbs and beaches of Delaware since a drive to Massachusetts in November 2003. Yes, a drive.
Our ignorance of Chicago hiking options was complete. We didn't know if there were any hiking trails nor how long it would take to get to them. Another thing we wondered was, if we did find a place to go hiking, would it have trees? Or are we too far west for that?
I can't believe we went this long before wondering about this, especially since in Baltimore and Providence, we used to go hiking pretty regularly.
So Colliculus did some Internet research and found the Argonne Nature Preserve, which has something like 9 miles of trails. Not bad, considering it's just southwest of the city. We drove out there and what did we find but trees! Lots of them! Pines and maples and sycamores (which I misidentified as birch trees, but Bitter Orange, who was equally citified in the matter of Chicago hiking but otherwise significantly more knowledgeable in the ways of the woods, corrected me), and creeks and even some gentle rises. I wouldn't go so far as to call them hills, but there were definitely slopes. Also a lot of prairies. Not all of the prairies were called that on the map -- there was at least one that was called a savannah -- but I for one was not fooled.
There was also a waterfall:
Something really funny about this jaunt: The people I invited to come, plus the people I told about it afterwards, all said the same thing: "Hiking? Where?" They had this incredulous tone, as if you can't go hiking, or at least it's not something that anyone would ever suggest doing. If I had suggested skydiving, I'd have gotten a less quizzical reaction than that. Because at least everyone knows where you go skydiving.
Except one of my coworkers, who said, "Isn't that where they have buffalo?" I said I doubted it, seeing as how it's crammed between a railroad and a highway with a research center dedicated to alternative energy smack in the middle, but she was pretty sure they did. I'll let you know if I find out about that. All we saw was a hawk.
Our ignorance of Chicago hiking options was complete. We didn't know if there were any hiking trails nor how long it would take to get to them. Another thing we wondered was, if we did find a place to go hiking, would it have trees? Or are we too far west for that?
I can't believe we went this long before wondering about this, especially since in Baltimore and Providence, we used to go hiking pretty regularly.
So Colliculus did some Internet research and found the Argonne Nature Preserve, which has something like 9 miles of trails. Not bad, considering it's just southwest of the city. We drove out there and what did we find but trees! Lots of them! Pines and maples and sycamores (which I misidentified as birch trees, but Bitter Orange, who was equally citified in the matter of Chicago hiking but otherwise significantly more knowledgeable in the ways of the woods, corrected me), and creeks and even some gentle rises. I wouldn't go so far as to call them hills, but there were definitely slopes. Also a lot of prairies. Not all of the prairies were called that on the map -- there was at least one that was called a savannah -- but I for one was not fooled.
There was also a waterfall:
Something really funny about this jaunt: The people I invited to come, plus the people I told about it afterwards, all said the same thing: "Hiking? Where?" They had this incredulous tone, as if you can't go hiking, or at least it's not something that anyone would ever suggest doing. If I had suggested skydiving, I'd have gotten a less quizzical reaction than that. Because at least everyone knows where you go skydiving.
Except one of my coworkers, who said, "Isn't that where they have buffalo?" I said I doubted it, seeing as how it's crammed between a railroad and a highway with a research center dedicated to alternative energy smack in the middle, but she was pretty sure they did. I'll let you know if I find out about that. All we saw was a hawk.
Sunday, March 20, 2005
I must apologize for being such a blog deadbeat. One of my coworkers quit and they're not replacing her so work is permanently crazy. At school, my group project went so completely to hell that I spent most of our presentation time today mentally composing my grade-grovelling email to the instructor in which I plan to throw myself on his mercy while throwing my group-mates under the bus. (One got called away unexpectedly on business for the last 2 weeks of class, and had to email us an MP3 of his PowerPoint voiceover; the second missed the last week of class; the third did so little that I just gave up and assigned him tasks, and he didn't do them until last night. Just call me Group Asshole.)
And last of all, we closed on our condo Tuesday and are now proud ho-moaners. Hey, did anyone who looked at the pictures notice that one wall of our bedroom is fluorescent spring green? We didn't! And it's in the pictures, so we must've just been blind.
Now begins the process of talking to vendors about our various renovation projects, such as extending the green wall. Also painting it. Also refinishing the floor. Like adopted babies, Chicago home-improvement guys come from all nations except the U.S. Also, they're weird people. One of them sized up the floor, said, "No cooking's been done here," and the next thing we knew he was trying to buy our fireplace off us. "I won't even charge you for the removal," he said. We said no thanks.
Here's one reason why we need to paint:
I mean, I like creative painting as much as the next girl, but I can't ID a single attractive color in that palette, can you?
And last of all, we closed on our condo Tuesday and are now proud ho-moaners. Hey, did anyone who looked at the pictures notice that one wall of our bedroom is fluorescent spring green? We didn't! And it's in the pictures, so we must've just been blind.
Now begins the process of talking to vendors about our various renovation projects, such as extending the green wall. Also painting it. Also refinishing the floor. Like adopted babies, Chicago home-improvement guys come from all nations except the U.S. Also, they're weird people. One of them sized up the floor, said, "No cooking's been done here," and the next thing we knew he was trying to buy our fireplace off us. "I won't even charge you for the removal," he said. We said no thanks.
Here's one reason why we need to paint:
I mean, I like creative painting as much as the next girl, but I can't ID a single attractive color in that palette, can you?
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Don't Blink
I was at work and had an argument with my coworker about whether Malcolm Gladwell was the author of The Tipping Point. She saw this picture:
And she said, "No, that's the author of Blink. The Tipping Point guy is sort of a nerdy looking guy." A Google search resolved this later. Here's a picture of "the Tipping Point guy":
Apparently Gladwell decided to grow himself a Fro in between books.
You can tell I'm really really busy with work and school and everything else, because I don't have time to write a real post. Next Tuesday we close on the condo.
And she said, "No, that's the author of Blink. The Tipping Point guy is sort of a nerdy looking guy." A Google search resolved this later. Here's a picture of "the Tipping Point guy":
Apparently Gladwell decided to grow himself a Fro in between books.
You can tell I'm really really busy with work and school and everything else, because I don't have time to write a real post. Next Tuesday we close on the condo.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Just what I needed
Today I received the following email regarding a new client of ours:
Subject: Kingly Burger Buttons
Our new Kingly Burger clients are going to be in the office most of the day on Thursday. To give them a royal welcome, we've planned a number of surprises and some of them include you!
We want to show them how much we love KB -- please wear the button with pride all day Thursday so our client can see that not only the team, but the entire agency is behind them!
***
Who knew you could combine the best of both worlds featured in "Office Space" -- cubes AND "flare"?
Subject: Kingly Burger Buttons
Our new Kingly Burger clients are going to be in the office most of the day on Thursday. To give them a royal welcome, we've planned a number of surprises and some of them include you!
We want to show them how much we love KB -- please wear the button with pride all day Thursday so our client can see that not only the team, but the entire agency is behind them!
***
Who knew you could combine the best of both worlds featured in "Office Space" -- cubes AND "flare"?
