Gathering up interested and available parties (2 of the committee & the paternal unit), we spearheaded a trip to wine country nestled in the little fingers of the Michigan mitten. We were hoping for a little color, but season was a little late this year. Beautiful, but just this side of the peak.
Paternal unit was interested in the first stop on the first rainy afternoon sampling one wine which he promptly bought- and really wasn't interested in too much of the sampling that went on after that. We started off with lunch in a crazy animal-head filled restaurant with an old wooden bar. Dad of course had to peruse the entire building before we sat down and started looking frantically for him, thinking we locked him in the car. He flirted with the waitress who he thought was too old, of course, and ogled the younger women in the next booth. Then when he unfortunately brought out his credit card first, we all handed him the lunch bills. The one sad note. There were many moose heads of varying sizes hanging on the walls, one of which was wearing a party hat. I pointed out that it was too bad he was shot on his birthday.
Dinner was another hilarious affair. The first restaurant recommended was filled by the time we got there (no reservations) with a 30 minute wait. As I have often said, I will wait in line for the 2nd coming, not before. Fortunately a nice place was about a block away with a great view of the bay and no waiting. People tend to look at us as we are definitely people who enjoy our time together-too bad. As I don't eat potatoes or bread I ordered a double helping of veggies with my steak, thinking California medley which is what they all usually bring. This produced a rather bemused look from the waiter (who was from Lansing -MSU). Imagine my dismay when he brought 2 large cooked squash EHHHHH. Hate squash. I admit I also pick out any onions with the audacity to appear in my food, but fortunately Burt has gotten used to my weird food fetishes.
On a whim we stopped at a top floor bar in the Park Place Hotel with a view of the water. The only seats available were at the piano bar and the piano player knew all the oldies and every song that had Sweet in it. There was even a drunk girl there named Lori who befriended us (or fell on us at times) so the committee was complete. At one point when we told the piano player that Dad was from Detroit in the big band era, he asked if Dad ever heard of Tassie's Tavern? OMG - Dad worked there back in the early '50's. Deja Vu all over again. The piano-singer, Tom Kaufman, makes these wire nameplates and he made one for Dad that said "SWEET". They all play their unique music based on the shape and number of figures. Dad happily played with it all night. Tom also has shakers and noise makers that patrons can use to provide rhythm accompaniment to his music and Dad thoroughly enjoyed marking time. It was one of those spontaneous happenings, that we could not have planned if we tried. As a lover of music, parties and piano bars, I saw Mother's hand in all of this!
Next morning on to the wineries. Amazing how tasty and natural wine sipping can be at 10:30 in the morning. And 11:30 and 1:00 and 2:30. After awhile the paternal unit remained in the car and read the paper-but we did leave a window open for him so he could stick his head out. I think he enjoyed the scenery and the water more than anything else on the trip.
Have to mention one of my "bon mots" of the trip. As we were rolling up and down the ski hills of the area trying to find the next little vineyard on the map we saw a lot of livestock - cows mostly. Marcia mentioned it must be hard on the cows having to go up and down the hills all the time. Without thinking I blurted out "Yes, but they have great calves". Much hilarity, but even better when later that night Dad asked what the joke about cows was about. I believe he found it amusing and pointed out his sense of humor was intact and finely tuned. I know that from some of the hair-raising stories he has been telling us lately....
