May 17, 2013 - Saginaw, Michigan. Slowing down a bit. Great visits with friends Matt and Louisa Frank. He wore me out from badminton to hiking to sampling local libations! Met a great group of writers and others. Of note, Matt Bell and Josh MacIvor-Andersen, Tim, Tim, Kathryn, Regina, Helen, Dan, and more! That and a rubber stamp for the press from Fred's Rubber Stamp, and I had a two day slam dance of an experience.... I'll be back there, I am sure.
The drive from Marquette was odd.... I left the shores of Superior and headed south into the air raid sirens of Munising, Michigan. Watched a Father and a Son argue and was moved by the moment.... it was a "Why not?" "Because I said 'no'" conversation - acted out countless places for countless centuries. A young man yearning to break out, to run, to leave behind the sleepy town he grew up in and the gas station fate promised for the first scent of adventure that this second Spring day brought on.... And so we travel in these cycles. Born, live, die. We leave behind fading memories and impressions and yet things still change and we still drive it. We are nothing more than the pieces of those before - whether in our DNA or in our received wisdom. It is the knowledge that has come down to us that is as much of our evolution as anything else. We seek relevance in moments of rebellion, experience the full meaning of life in a moment of ecstasy, or sadness, or loss, or love.... It is what makes us human, this yearning for... meaning.
I played tag with a Harley and noted, as I neared the LakeMichigan shore, vast dark clouds like smoke over the road, only to realize they were bugs - midges? mosquitoes? gnats? In waves they crashed down on us, darkening my windshield worse than a hard rain. By the thousands they flew at the screen, careened around semis and painted the hair of the bikers. They moved like living spirals whipping through the air like a single, living being in a Sci-Fi flick- inherited connection, learned behavior?
I settled into Saginaw earlier than I might have, but I felt a need to stop, to rest, to think. As I checked into my simple room I saw three guys out front. Smoking cigarettes, spitting and talking. "The autopsy didn't show anything..." one said. And from there talks of investigations and staying one step ahead of the law. "They thought I did it, but they couldn't prove it..." circling back to the autopsy time and again.... I was in a dream, a bad TV show, but no one said anything conclusive, just danced around the butts that eventually littered the ground... neither claiming responsibility or denying an act. Each of the guys probing without probing too far... A dance with a macabre beat until they flipped their last butt to the pavement, cigarettes exhausted, and slept.
This morning it all seems surreal as I fill my tank, look to the road and imagine what night will bring.