Golden Tickets

Dear George,

This is the fourth year that the Clifton Cultural Arts Center has hosted The Golden Ticket, a juried art show featuring local artists (painting, photography, sculpture, ceramics, fiber).  The first year the exhibition showcased our Clifton neighborhood, selecting artists who lived or worked within a three-mile radius of the Arts Center.  This year’s show expanded nearly tenfold and included 68 artists  from within a 25-mile radius.  Thus it covered the entire metropolitan area.  It’s great to see how the arts are flourishing in our community.  Here’s just a sampling of the many works that Katja and I enjoyed on our recent visit.  The show remains open through October 2.

Love,

Dave

Ned Stern.  Lunch Counter Man.  Acrylic.  

Clinton Wood III.  Lexington Street Corner.  Oil on panel. 

Ted Borman.  Seaside.  Oil on canvas.

Felix V. Rodriguez.  A Caribbean Soul in Coldland!  Glazed ceramic.  

Tina Tammaro.  A Deeper Dark Than Any Dark.  Oil on canvas.

Karen Heyl.  Fiddle Dee Fern.  Clay, acrylic paint, limestone.  

Yvonne Eijden.  A Rose Without Thorns 2.  Oil.  

Marty Campolo.  Imagine Everything You Can, Then Keep Going.  Acrylic.  

Jason Bohrer.  Rusty Rail Cars.  Aluminum print atop copper linoleum backing.  

Donna Talerico.  Fedora.  Acrylic on canvas.  

Bill Feinberg.  Minyan.  Wire, plaster, paint.  

Adam Havelszky.  Man and Dog.  Acrylic.  

Mark Wiesner.  The Moebius Syndrome.  Mixed media on wood.  

Michelle Heilmann.  Sprung.  Oil on canvas.  

Amy Warner.  The Summer Papa Dies: Lucia and Phoebe.  Oil.

The Lake Michigan Coast: Were We in Heaven or What?

Hiking trail, Saugatuck Dunes State Park

Dear George,

Katja and I have driven back and forth between Cincinnati and the Mackinac Bridge in northern Michigan innumerable times since the 1960’s, but we always took I-75 through the center of the state so we had no experience with the Lake Michigan coast.  In 2007 we finally decided to remedy that by taking a camping road trip there with our sheepdogs, Mike and Duffy.  Unfortunately our departure was scheduled shortly after the eastern U.S. was inundated by Hurricane Dean, one of the strongest hurricanes on record.  The Midwest weather forecast predicted constant post-hurricane rain for the next week to ten days, but we had packed our car, Katja had applied for vacation time, and we doubted they could really predict weather a week in advance.  We were, of course, badly mistaken.  It rained virtually nonstop and cast a pall over our entire trip.  If I remember correctly, I think Katja vowed she would never go camping again.  In any case, it's been on my mind ever since to redo that Lake Michigan trip under more pleasant circumstances.  This is the first year that our bad memories seem to have faded sufficiently to give it another try, and so we headed north a week and a half ago.        

Campsite #110 at Holland State Park

We drove from Cincinnati to Holland, Michigan, via Highway 31 on Thursday, Sept. 5,  arrived at the Holland State Park in the late afternoon, and found a good campsite in a pine forest.  Katja said Holland was the most attractive city she’s ever seen.  We only planned to stay at the park for two nights, but we liked it so much we stayed for four, taking day trips to resort communities along the coast to the north and the south.  Katja was a hardy camper and barely complained when her air mattress completely deflated on the first night out.  Nonetheless, I hurried to Wal-Mart and bought a new one.

Looking straight upward at our campsite

Michigan was enticing because we were constantly surrounded by water, cool temperatures, clean air, beaches, and pine trees.  In contrast to our earlier trip, the weather was near perfect – typically sunny with highs in the mid-70’s.  What a great state!

Lake Macatawa

Our campground was located along the shore of Lake Macatawa, a 1700 acre lake adjacent to the city of Holland.  A channel connects Lake Macatawa to Lake Michigan, enabling Great Lakes boaters to dock at one or another of the marinas there.

At the dock at Lake Macatawa

We saw lots of splendid boats at Holland and at other marinas up and down the coast.

Katja and Captain Sundae

We discovered Captain Sundae's softserve parlor on our first night in Holland.  Katja said that her Tommy Turtle was the best sundae she'd ever had in her life.  Here she is with the Captain himself.  They seem to make sundaes much larger in Michigan than in Ohio, and we partook nearly every day, turning this into a Softserve Sundae Vacation.  

Kalamazoo Lake at downtown Saugatuck

With cool temperatures at night, I picked up a handsome Old Navy sweatshirt for $2 at a yard sale in Holland on Friday morning.  Then we drove to Saugatuck, an art colony and popular tourist destination just south of Holland.  Lots of boats, boutiques, art galleries, restaurants, and bed and breakfasts.  A totally appealing place to wander about, window-shop, and people-watch.  

Lunch on the lawn

We enjoyed lunch on a restaurant lawn next to the marina in Saugatuck. 

On the riverwalk in Grand Haven 

The next day we drove north to Grand Haven, another popular tourist destination along the lake shore.  The Grand River runs passes by at the foot of the downtown business district, and the riverwalk offers scenic views.  Katja bought us each a Grand Haven sweatshirt.  

Along the Grand River

There were still plenty of flowers blooming in Grand Haven in early September.

Strolling around Washington Ave.

Washington Avenue’s historic district has plenty of shops, galleries, restaurants, and flower-covered bicycles.  We even saw four goats and a pot-bellied pig on one of the side streets.         

Mike and Duffy meet Chloe

In downtown Grand Haven we met five-year-old Chloe, the first Bedlington Terrier we've seen in person since we lost our beloved Winston over twenty years ago. 

At Duck Lake State Park

There were lakes scattered all throughout the region.  On Sunday we stopped at Duck Lake for a picnic lunch on our way to Pentwater. 

Pentwater Lake

Pentwater is another favorite tourist spot, located on Lake Michigan and on Pentwater Lake about 75 miles north of Holland.  Katja bought a Pentwater sweatshirt to go with her Grand Haven sweatshirt.  By then we were well-equipped with sweatshirts.  We looked over a local real estate guide.  Summer homes on the shore ran from $300K to $2.6 million.        

String band in downtown Pentwater

We came upon an 8-member string band playing bluegrass music on a street corner in downtown Pentwater.  All but one were senior citizens, and one man could have been my father’s twin brother.  We were told the group plays there every Sunday afternoon, and they were good enough that they might have appeared on Prairie Home Companion.  It brought a tear to my eye.  On the way back we picked up some blueberries and watermelon at a big farm market.    

Lake Michigan at Ludington State Park

On Monday we packed up our gear and headed north for Ludington State Park, a few miles north of the city of Ludington.  I'd read that Ludington is regarded by many as the best state park in the Midwest.  That's because of its magnificent location on the shore of Lake Michigan, with hilly dunes and wide sandy beaches that reminded us of the Atlantic seashore.  The lake was gorgeous; blue water, white surf; sea gulls; fishing boats and pleasure craft; lighthouses; swimmers and sunbathers; kids playing in the sand; even a para-glider pulled by a power boat.  

Lake Michigan from the dunes

This lake view is right over the dunes from our campsite, about thirty yards away from our tent.  

Native fauna

Mike and Duffy came with me to gather some kindling for a campfire, and we ran across three white-tailed deer at the edge of the forest.  The dogs were only mildly interested, and the deer seemed equally calm about our encounter.    

Night-time tent interior

Being together in the tent at night is one of my favorite things about camping.  It’s filled with mystery (as this photo of lantern and blanket indicates).  

Downtown Manistee

Katja spent part of Tuesday a.m. on the Lake Michigan beach, enjoying the sunshine and reading her book, “Rafa”.  Then we took a sightseeing trip to Manistee, a coastal town of about 6,000 which became a permanent European-American settlement in 1841. On the way there we had lunch at Culver’s which has the best frozen custard the world has ever seen.  Like most towns in the area, Manistee’s architecture dates back to the late 1800's and houses lots of interesting shops.  Katja got a book on “Word History” at the used book store on Water St.  

The Manistee River

We took a relaxing stroll on the boardwalk along the pretty Mainstee River in downtown Manistee.

Mike at the motel

After a rainy night at the campground, we packed up on Wednesday morning, enjoyed breakfast at the House of Flavors in downtown Ludington, and then set out for Ann Arbor for an intended two-night camping stay.  However, we got stuck for three hours in a massive traffic jam on the Interstate, and it started raining as well.  My gas gauge dropped from a quarter tank to “Empty” as we sat in the stranded traffic, and we got very nervous.   Even though I had long claimed that there were no motels in the United States that would accept two large sheepdogs, we found one as soon as we finally reached an exit.  Though it violated my Spartan camper principles, we humans and dogs did appreciate the luxuries of air conditioning, showers, firm mattresses, and Wheel of Fortune on cable TV. 

At Zingerman's Deli

We spent several hours checking out Ann Arbor’s downtown and campus areas on Thursday.  School was in session, and Ann Arbor looked busy and prosperous.  We stopped for lunch at Zingerman's Deli in Kerrytown, our favorite Ann Arbor destination in recent years.  They have a dog-friendly patio.  I was a little nervous because Mike had vomited on the floor of the only other dog-friendly patio we've ever visited.  I decided, though, that that was a one-time freak occurrence.  Wouldn't you know, we'd just settled in when Mike promptly vomited up his entire breakfast on Zingerman's floor, right the feet of a nice couple who had befriended him.  I cleaned it up as best I could, and the sunshine dried up the rest.

We headed for home from Zingerman’s and used Katja's smartphone to guide us to a Dairy Queen in Wapakoneta, OH.  After four hours on the road we reached the Cincinnati city limits.  As always, it was sad to wind up an enjoyable trip, but also pleasing to be home again.  I’d say Michigan’s west coast is about the most enjoyable travel destination we’ve been to in the Midwest.  I carefully packed up all our gear the next morning and stored it in the basement.  But it's ready to go at a moment's notice.

Love,

Dave

G-mail Comments

Jennifer M (9-17):  Great photos and great trip!  Also -- Holland, MI really is Dutch!

Growing Up in World War II

My Dad: Victor L., 2nd Lieutenant JG, U.S. Navy (circa 1943-45, approx. age 35-37)

Dear George,

When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, I was four and a half and my brother Steven was one.  As with hundreds of millions of families, our lives were powerfully altered by World War II.  I started kindergarten at Boswell School in 1942.  A year later we moved to Sheridan Road, and I transferred to Washington School for first grade.  There was a lot of patriotic fervor throughout my grade school years.  We began each day reciting the Pledge of Allegiance; our Weekly Reader highlighted news reports about the war; and our teachers made continual reference to America’s role in battling Germany, Italy, and Japan and helping save the free world.  My school’s fourth grade teacher structured her entire classroom as a system of military ranks in which children could earn points through approved activities and progress from Buck Privates to a possible rank of Gold Star General by year’s end.  Though I didn’t enter fourth grade until a year after the war’s end, we still attained positions in the classroom army and it was highly involving.   I was a comic book addict at the time, and I spent a lot of school time drawing cartoon faces of Hitler, Hirohito, and Mussolini.  The culture as a whole was nationalistic, militaristic, xenophobic, and male-dominated, and all of that filtered down to us schoolchildren as well. 

The media in the 1940’s was saturated with war-time news and propaganda.  Kids from our neighborhood went en masse to matinees every Saturday afternoon at the Menominee Theater, located in the old Opera House.  We bought a season’s worth of twenty tickets for a dollar.  The matinee typically included a couple of cartoons, a news reel, a short (e.g., The Three Stooges), and a main feature.  Most of the features tailored to children centered upon violence in one form or another – either war movies, which were being churned out in Hollywood by the dozens, or westerns or crime/detective movies.  The newsreels featured war-time news clips from Europe, depicting cataclysmic events laden with tension for kids whose parents or other family members were fighting abroad.  Even the animated cartoons involved war-time themes, e.g., Superman battling the Nazis.  My friends and I became knowledgeable about the various symbols and artifacts of war – identification of enemy and allied planes and ships, symbols of rank in the various military branches, prominent generals and admirals, flags of the nations, weapons, and the various battles that appeared in the news.  I was probably more knowledgeable about international events in grade school than I was in the twenty years that followed. 

Preoccupation with violence carried over to our childhood play activities. Guns were our single most important playthings, at least for boys.  Through play and games, we were getting psychically prepared for a future in the military or other aggressive adult male roles.  We all owned six-shooter cap guns, and we made regular treks to the corner variety store to replenish our supply of caps for a dime a pack.  We owned toy military guns, cowboy guns, and police/detective weapons and paraphenalia.  Our personal armories also included water guns and rifles which shot ping pong balls or suction cup arrows.  We played cops and robbers, cowboys against Indians, and War (Americans against Nazis or Japs).  We had separate military games for the Army fighting in towns and forests and Marines storming the beaches.

My dad left for officer training at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station outside Chicago some time around 1943.  My mother, my younger brother Steve, and I moved to a second floor apartment in a building in a less affluent section of town.  My mother had her hands full, keeping a household going and rearing two young boys.  She felt uneasy about some of the kids in our neighborhood and monitored and restricted my playtime activities outside the house.  It was hard to no longer have two parents at home.  According to family legend, I saved up several pennies and gave them to my mother to help my father come back.  Everything was rationed at the time – gasoline, rubber, clothing, sugar, coffee, food of all sorts, even bicycles – and there was a general sense of deprivation among civilians, though also a lot of commitment toward contributing to the war effort.    All in all, I think my mother was terrified for my father after he left for the Pacific theater, as were her female friends and relatives for their military spouses and family members.

The war came to an end, of course, in August 1945, within weeks of the U.S. dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  In the months and years that followed we schoolchildren learned details about the atomic bomb, as well as potential peacetime uses of atomic energy.  When news came later about the Russians development of nuclear weapons, rumors circulated in Menominee to the effect that Russian bombers could mistake our river and harbors from the air for the St. Lawrence seaway and drop atomic bombs on Menominee.  In school we had regular classroom drills in preparation for nuclear attacks which mainly consisted in bending over and putting our heads under our desks.  Tensions regarding the potential destruction of the human species became a chronic condition – the world had profoundly changed. 

On the day the Japanese surrendered, I was allowed to go out to the family automobile and honk the horn as long as I liked.  My dad came back from occupied Japan around six or seven months later, and I still have vivid recollections of my parents hosting a coming home party for the Steffke’s (Pat was in the Army) and the O’Hara’s (Mike was in the Marines).  Steve and I were exiled to our bedroom after the first hour or so, and we were bitter about being excluded.  Pat Steffke had married an Austrian opera singer (Martina) that he’d met in Europe, and we young boys thought she was the most beautiful woman to ever grace our home town. The postwar period was a time of great national pride.  My father and his friends shared strong bonds from their military experience that lasted throughout their lifetimes.  Years later my dad told one of my college friends that being in the Navy in the Pacific during the war was the most meaningful experience of his life.  In contrast to our country’s subsequent wars, there was no question whatsoever of the rightness or necessity of America’s involvement and the country’s crucial role in helping to save the world from Fascism.  Adults and kids wound up with unwavering patriotism and feelings of pre-eminence in the world.  America had emerged as a super-power, and there was little recognition of  possible downsides of that role.   Nowadays, following Korea, the Civil Rights revolution, political assassinations, Vietnam, Watergate, the emergence of the counter-culture, 9-11, and Iraq and Afghanistan, that seems like an incredibly long time ago.

Love,

Dave

G-Mail Comments

-Terry O-S (9-2):  I think you meant  circa 1943-44, not  43-54.  I have long believed that the primary reason why our parents and  their friends were so exuberant in their social lives was because they were all so relieved that the men, at least in their immediate circle, had all survived the war.  Martina was the beautiful, indeed - and was also grateful to our Moms for befriending her.