I usually work through the Labor Day Weekend, but this year I am a tourist on Mackinac Island. It seemed like a good idea at the time until I walked down Main Street and wanted to bypass my own anti gun laws and shoot myself in the face. Stuck behind a family of three who seemed to take up the side-walk, half the road, and walk incredibly slow and stopping suddenly every three feet, I looked to the sky and envisioned a .45 and the feeling of sweet relief.
I don’t know what it is about Mackinac. I know it’s beautiful albeit smelly, but it has a way of changing people. Throngs of tourists get off the boat and cannot walk at a normal pace anymore and forget what footpaths are, waitresses spend the season waiting for long weekends so their tables are full of potential tips only to complain about the people when they arrive – they either tip poorly and or it’s not as busy as they thought. Dads and Grandfathers instantly become professors of history and architecture, mothers spend their entire weekend buying souvenirs for every person under 12 they know, even if they haven’t been born or thought of yet, only to return home with no memories of the vacation because they spent the time trapped inside Nephew’s. Kids, well they don’t give a shit as long as they get ice cream, fudge and some type of souvenir at some point.
I spent the weekend on the island, lazing around on a chair in front of Mission Point trying to make some decisions. I fell asleep on my first attempt, got side tracked by frozen yogurt on my second, by a bulldog on my third, but on my fourth I decided what I want – to some extent. I decided upon a bunch of things I didn’t set out to – I want a French style home by the water with large white wooden chairs on the porch, a boat docked on the marina, a big backyard with a vegetable and/or herb garden and fruit trees, a Golden Retriever to walk through the tree-lined streets and to spend afternoons sitting on the porch watching the sun go down with imported red wine from Bordeaux. Then I want a kid whom I can take overseas every summer and have him learn foreign languages and practice it with the locals and soak up the local cuisine and history. I’d have a husband who is my best friend and makes me laugh until I am 80 years old and then refuse too due to lack of bladder control – unless it’s a joke about Depends. This is all very domestic and homey from someone who has spent 12 years living from a suitcase! But now that I know what I want, where is this place? As my friend said, “find the guy and you’ll have the answers.” Hmmm…that sounds suspiciously easy.
How did you spend your Labour Day Weekend? Whats your dream for the future? I am leaving Mackinac Island for Mackinaw City tomorrow for 2 nights before I fly out to London* – do you want anything specific info on Mack City?
*Although I have not brought my ticket to Chicago yet and I leave in 2 two days…I am usually hyper organised. I haven’t arranged accommodation in London either..