Way Back Machine - 1967 - Birth

The way back machine today takes us way back to 1967 as on this day 47 years ago at Mt. Carmel Hospital in the D, a big headed baby squeezed his large melon out of his mom's womb and said hello to the world; then started crying like nobody has ever cried before. Yes, I cried with the best of them. One of my first memories of said crying was when I walked in front of my brother practicing his batting swing in the back yard. Little Timmy's eye made direct contact with one of the swings, blood gushed similar to a Monty Python skit and 47 years later, the stitch scar still remains (noted below).

What a year it was to be born as out west people were getting frisky with whomever was near them in the summer of love while my birth town was rioting. My favorite riot story (yes, the riots sucked) involves my dad. And no, he wasn't looting on Clairmount Street. He was doing some painting at our home in Farmington. What does every man need when doing a home project? A cold beer to enjoy. Well, with the riots, all of the metropolitan Detroit liquor stores were not selling. In the car my dad went and an hour later, he arrived in Toledo, got his beer, drove back home and completed his project. Nice perseverance there.   

Happy 47th birthday also to Pedro Borbon (looked it up).  

Trail Head 

birth home



baseball bat scar from youth still visible today

Moon Over White Lake

Yep, the moon was out in White Lake as I did a double take the first time driving by this creation yesterday. If there was a contest for best pumpkin, this one would have to take it.

Trail Head

Way Back Machine - The Mullet Year - What the *@#$! was I thinking?

The year was 1988 and young Tim was, well, young Tim thought he knew everything there was to know about the world. Young Tim didn't know shit. Long hair in the back? Yeah, it will look great and the ladies will love it! That was the mindset in my pea size brain that still wasn't fully developed (still waiting for that). The only thing missing was an extra large comb in my back pocket with an Ozzy logo on it. Thankfully I didn't take it that far. When I transferred to State that fall, they put me on a floor in the dorms with mostly freshmen; I was a junior. With the hair, the youngsters one night were calling me the Antichrist. Shame on them for following the Antichrist as the only thing I led them to was community college once their parents saw their report cards over winter break. Needless to say, the mullet didn't last long as my friends will attest that my hair can produce oil faster than any human being out there. Combine that with the excess hair and by three in the afternoon, I could have replaced the oil in my car. Add in some neck pains from constantly flipping the hair back and by late spring of 1989, the mullet said goodbye for good. Looking back on some things in our lives, some we can say, "yeah, that was worth it."

It wasn't worth it. A royal pain in the ass trying to maintain it. I don't know how (or why) others do it.

Trail Head

 



Doe, A Deer, A Mountain Bike Deer...



 The "on your left" call out wasn't needed as I pedaled on the Milford Trail yesterday; the four-legged furry riders crossing my path had me on the speed factor and there was no way I was catching them. I turn the corner on the trail and bam, there they were. A pack of four deer having a hang out party, probably discussing survival techniques and safe areas as bow season is on and they know it. All was well with their gathering until my mug made an appearance and off they went.

Ride on Bambi.
Trail Head

Way Back Machine - '73 - Griswold Family Vacation

Old Tucson

The way back machine takes us to 1973 today for the Reeves' version of "the Griswold vacation." Three kids with attitudes and two parents telling themselves "never again" after the week was up (joking, we did in fact do it again later in the decade) heading west to visit my grandparents in Tucson, Arizona. We didn't see the biggest ball of string but did see "Old Tucson" for some gunfight re-creations, the Grand Canyon and the grandaddy of them all, a trip to the Pinnacle Peak Steakhouse. The place is famous for cutting the neckties off of customers and pinning them to the wall. I looked it up and they are still cutting ties off today. The outstanding leisure-wear you see below was just before our trip there. The GQ of the 70's...not.

Trail Head



bro and sis do NOT look happy





bro in the distance getting his tie cut off - sweet lamb chops on my dad



Last Float For Summer Calendar

nightcrawler harness - 17"

I'm not sure if it was the warm front coming through or the southwest winds stirring it all up but the lake of a thousand casts, Dunham, served up some nice keepers Saturday morning for Doke and I on the last official weekend of summer. For all the 10 to 13 3/4 inchers that this lake normally produces, I'm not even going to question it as doing so is doing the impossible. The lake should be re-named Lake Anomaly.

The lure of choice for me was a mix of a nightcrawler harness to troll with and a pink wacky to throw. Both did quite well with the pink grabbing a monster that I "horsed" near the boat and lost. Wa wa.... There is your fish story for today. Doke, meanwhile, went with the crankbait angle the entire time; one lure, and would have had quite a bag to present had we been keeping the fish.

Thanks go out to Al for the portage.

Trail Head





tough doing the fish selfie out of the kayak as Doke shows

 

Nine Live Radio

In a postscript to the Chip float last weekend, the radio did indeed survive the drink in the river I am happy to report! This radio, which I've had for probably 25 years, is the Rambo/Jason of Friday the 13th/Freddie Krueger of radios; it will not die! It has also taken a drink ice fishing, been dropped, thrown, dropped again, and survived that as well. And yes, that is a file for the antenna. Are you going to get crystal clear digital tuning with Bose surround sound? Yeah.....no. One speaker and a wobbly tuning button will get you where you need to go, however. Keep on keeping SoundDesign!

Trail Head