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One Thanksgiving Dinner…to go.
Onions sauteeing on the stove preparing for their union with bread cubes for savory stuffing. Cranberry’s bitter-fruit scent wafting from it’s patiently waiting glass vessel. The plastic Kroger bag being tossed open to retrieve the pre-cooked bird in all it’s store made glory. Wait…what was that last one? It was good. Damn good. I ate it and enjoyed every morsel from the gelatinous, stupid-sweet cranberry sauce, to the boxed mashed potatoes with a slight hint of melted Glad-ware on the back of my tongue. (Anyone who’s ever reheated lasagna in said reusable storage container gets the reference). Yes, the meal was delicious and remarkably easy to prepare thus making it incredibly easy to enjoy. But, that’s not really the point, is it? After all, what’s Thanksgiving dinner without my frazzled Mom sitting down for the first time all day to enjoy the fruit of her labor whilst dabbing the sweat from her brow? The holding of the family’s collective breath as Dad cuts into the overly browned fowl praying it’s cooked all the way through (the thermometer popped about 20 minutes into the cook time, so there goes that fool-proof method of checking). The sigh of relief and subsequent mastication marathon when we realize it’s not only done, but was probably done 2 hours ago (right after the commencement of Carmen Harlan’s “Thanks for joining us!” parade speech on t.v.). See, Thanksgiving isn’t about ease of preparation and quickest to the finish line…it’s about taking the time to, well, be thankful. Thankful for the effort in creating the bounty. Thankful for the lumps in the potatoes and the rogue stem in the cranberries. One may argue that Kroger customers everywhere are thankful for the pre-fab eats Annie the Deli Lady has prepared for them. I’d rather get half way through my meal, then remember the rolls are still warming ,and now burning, in the oven. Those are the memories I prefer…mistakes (and inedible roll briquettes) and all. Thanks, but no thanks, Giant Supermarket Chain…lesson learned! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the store to buy some leftovers.  Viva Italia! We continued our annual tradition of attending the Festa Italia on Saturday. It’s a celebration of all things Italian and always a chance to get in touch with your inner Tony Manero as well as indulge in all of the delights Italian culture has to offer. This year, the festivities were held on the freshly Obama-fied grounds of Macomb Community College, as opposed to the larger Freedom Hill venue from last year. Nowhere was the pesky recession more evident than at this beloved gathering of my people. Where vendors had once peddled their sparkly jewels and baubles, they now were noticeably absent, replaced by, well, nothing. Where the bleacher-style seating allowed for all in attendance to pop a squat and enjoy the premier entertainment last year, we now had to contend with “chair-savers” and 70 year old devotees of the event none too willing to part with their folding chairs. When the rain finally hit, as the ominous skies had been threatening for hours, we all forced our way beneath the undersized pavilions like oil-packed sardines much to the chagrin of the aforementioned chair savers. To all of our relief, the clouds parted after 7 or 8 minutes and now the hunt was on for food. After what I affectionately call my “welcome Chianti”, my palette was craving another, so off we went to one of the four booths offering libations that evening. At only $4 per 4 0z. glass of wine and only $3 for beer, our wallets were in full cooperation. “One Chianti, one Perino”, we ordered. “Sorry, out of Chianti”, was the reply. Out of Chianti?! That’s like McDonald’s without the nuggets, Letterman without Palin jokes, and…uh, an Italian Festival without the Chianti! Luckily, another vendor offered up my favorite vino just a step or two away. As far as the food goes, the choice was a bit limited but I HIGHLY recommend the sausage sandwich! There it was in all of it’s fennel-y, grilled pepper-y, marinara soaked splendor. We enjoyed our sammies standing up as we happened to snag a table next to the stage obviously intended for band use…no harm. The rousing performance by the always perfect Gaylord’s made them go down much easier! Top off the evening with the absolute best cannoli I’ve ever had (ricotta filling is the way to go!), and the night was just as magical as ever. Yes, we missed the Lamborghini display and local jewelry vendors, but the sense of family and belonging and…coolness was more than enough to keep hope alive for next year’s festivities! Have You Seen My Childhood? No, I’m not going to pretend like the allegations didn’t exist. His behavior was freaky, his nose virtually shaved completely off, and his speaking voice…well, he sounded manlier when he was eleven years old talking to Dick Clark. Duly noted. If you’re like me, you’ve almost separated the two Michaels in your mind: The magnificent talent who single-handedly shaped an entire generation of pop culture, and the other one. I’m choosing to honor the former. After all, it was Dancing Machine Michael I can thank for inducing the drop of my jaw at the wonderment of his body control and introducing the world to popping and, yes, locking. It was the Billie Jean Michael who united the family in jovial laminate-floor sliding in an attempt to duplicate his signature move. Didn’t you? It was Thriller Michael who inspired my sister, Christa, and I to perfect his choreography well enough to insist John Landis must have accidentally skipped over us when casting the zombie sequence. My stories aren’t unlike yours, but if you’re one of the many observers perseverating on 1993-present Michael, you probably just don’t understand. To you, I say, “You ain’t bad, man, you ain’t nuthin’!” When I was a kid, there were musical artists, movie stars, famous athletes, and then there was Michael Jackson. He transcended color, musical taste, and age and proved to be larger than life time and time again. He was a child star, but his stratospheric rise in the 80’s seemed like perfect timing. The short film that was to become Thriller was such a simple concept, expertly crafted and accessible to everyone from grannies to grade-schoolers. If it had been released today, I’m afraid it would be seen as corny, too simple, and irrelevant. Times change, people change, perceptions change. I can’t help but wonder what celebrity out there right this very minute would be able to command a simulcasting of their latest project during Prime-time television? Who could unite the biggest names and faces from American pop culture in the name of charity? Who is as big a star as Michael Jackson was? The answer: no one. Fans and detractors alike simply must agree on that fact. Families in peril united for his music. The lonely found a voice. The discontent found a distraction. The dreamers found inspiration. So, as I say goodbye, I find that I’m directing my condolences to my childhood and MY Michael Jackson. There will never be anyone else like him, and for that I’m glad. Check out my very favorite MJ dance footage….HE is the real Dancing Machine! (The 2 minute mark is where the magic happens!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sRfqvwgimU
I think it’s safe to say, we Metro-Detroiters are proud people. We get a certain sense of self-satisfaction by paying our bills on time and making ends meet all on our own. We don’t look for handouts and think long and hard about taking one, even if the help is greatly needed. That is why I’m a little confused by the announcement of Belle Isle becoming ABC’s newest backdrop for…not a movie…nope, not even a short film….Belle Isle will set the scene for a (sigh) reality show. A reality show…called Crash Course…about testing couples’ driving skills…groan. Now, look, I understand we’re all excited at the prospect of a new film industry pitching it’s tent right here in Michigan. Why, just the thought of big names like DeNiro and Walken are enough to send most of us pop culture buffs into a tizzy. Yeah, Kilmer, Eastwood, Orlando, Cortese, big names like that. What? The last two don’t sound familiar? Those are the names of the two Q-listers ABC has chosen to host this most cerebral of summer replacement hits. You may remember Dan Cortese from MTV circa 1995, and Orlando Jones from Mad TV back in the day…or not. C’mon Detroit, we’ve got a good thing goin’ here, do we have to say yes to the prom date just because we’re asked? Almost as surprising as the willingness of the city to allow the use of our beloved Isle to promote the mush-ification of brain matter everywhere, is the dollar amount being paid to the city: $1,500 bucks a day for 30 days starting June 30. Now, I’m no math whiz, but, well, that’s it? $45,000 for filming during our Belle Isle busy season where visitors will inevitably be restricted from filming areas? C’mon, we only want to set up shop with a cooler of Faygo and a coupla sammies, but instead we will probably be subjected to some sniveling ABC page instructing us to, “Move it along, folks. Mr. Cortese is filming his pyrotechnic go-kart scene now.” I guess I’m just one of those gluttons for rebuilding Detroit’s rep on my terms. If our tax incentives and talents are good enough to film Oscar nominated films here, then golly, can we at least hold out for a movie-of-the-week or even an SVU here and there? I suppose many would suggest we just say thank you and feel honored to have even been thought of, but I can’t help but see a little green flag waving in my head: Ready…Set…Lame. BOCCE BALL!
The assumed indulgence of Father’s Day food and fare was alive and well at the McAllister household yesterday, but an unexpected past time also made a welcomed appearance: Bocce Ball! Being a first-generation American from my father’s Italian side, this backyard sport showed up a few times over the years. Be it at Grandpa’s house or at a BBQ for the Carlomusto clan in our very own neighborhood, I’d always heard about the spirited game, but myself had never played! I was always too busy with the Slip ‘n Slide or attempting to conquer a twin-pop without sacrificing half to the lawn gods. Leave it to Bill do introduce yet another new favorite I never knew I had…add that to the list next to Indian food and Ricky Gervais. For those unaware, Bocce Ball is a simple little sport consisting of two teams of 2, 4 balls each, and a jack ball. One player tosses the jack ball down the “court” (in our case, 25 feet of uninterrupted lawn space) and the players subsequently toss their team balls trying to aim for that very jack ball. A series of startegic bumps and knocks ensue in anticipation of the first team reaching the magic number of 11 (1 point for each ball closest to the jack without the opposite team’s balls in the direct vacinity) Sound confusing? IT’S NOT…think curling…outside…on the grass. My attention now turns to where I can continue my new favorite obsession. Ever hear of Palazzo di Bocce in Orion Township? That’s right, an entire free standing oasis dedicated to the play of this most relaxing yet inevitably energized game. Palazzo di Bocce encourages the joining of leagues or starting your own team, but they also welcome parties, business meetings, and events! What luck! Any game where you can still play with a Vernors in your hand is the sport worth trying to me! For those of you who have grown up with Bocce Ball and wonder how one could be so new to the game, my answer is this: some folks need a little more time to discover things than others…I hear there’s this new thing called microwave popcorn…sounds crazy, but maybe I’ll give that a try, too. http://www.palazzodibocce.com/index.html Father’s Day
Father’s Day approaches and I can’t help but connect the current demolition of Tiger Stadium to the less acknowledged parental holiday. Let’s face it, Mother’s Day always gets more hype. When was the last time you and the sibs got together for a Father’s Day buffet? Patriarchal snubbing aside, Tiger Stadium is quickly disappearing. At the time of this post, the third base line is “lonngg gone”! They expect the entire stadium to be leveled by the end of the month. It’s definitely time. The last game was played on September 27th, 1999, most stadiums don’t make it this long without being torn down. I remember my first time (doesn’t everybody). August 6th, 1970, Al Kaline Day. Mel Torme sang “Thanks For The Memories” and old Mel “Toupee” couldn’t have been more prophetic as I have commited so much of that day to memory!…The Tigers lost 4-3 to the Minnesota Twins but I will never forget walking into that stadium. My brother, my mom and my dad walked through the corridor and I thought the smell of stale beer and peanuts was the greatest stench ever created. We turned into section 123 and it was as if we were ascending into heaven. There before me was a slowly revealed, early afternoon, blue August sky followed by the greenest grass God ever created! Follow that with an army of green seats and you understand why green is the color of envy because you wanted to live there for the rest of your life! The usher then led us to our seats eight rows behind home plate and I settled in for the greatest afternoon of my seven year-old life. 22 years and 200 some-odd games seen at Tiger Stadium later, it is Father’s Day 1992. The only thing Dad wanted to do was go to a Tiger’s game and who were we to say no. It is the only time our entire family went to a game together. Me, Mom, Dad, brother and both sisters, just the six of us. Couldn’t tell you the score, didn’t care. We gorged ourselves on Ball Park Franks, peanuts and Pepsi. Dad made his usual corny jokes, Mom wanted us to stop throwing peanuts at each other and all we did was try to make each other laugh for nine innings. We simply moved the “us” show to a new location. It is my favorite Father’s Day to date, my Dad’s as well. We’ve had our disagreements over the years but we’ve always been able to talk about baseball. Mom passed away three years ago and Dad hasn’t been the same since. Tiger Stadium will also soon be gone. So, this Father’s Day we’ll all head over to Dad’s, we’ll barbeque and watch the U.S. Open, that’s all he wants to do, heck we might even turn on the Tiger’s game! What are you waiting for…go call your dad! Something to Look Forward to…
Upon perusing today’s top headlines, it’s tough not to notice the pervasive doom and gloom feeling. Unemployment tops 6.7 million, our political leaders continue to embarrass themselves and us, and once again, Detroit makes national headlines for it’s conspicuous absence of grocery stores and retail outlets within the city limits…whew, and that’s only a few! Today, I’m choosing to write about a cool event that will helpfully give our minds a well deserved vacation from all of this nonsense. The Detroit River Days can only be described as a hodge-podge of family friendly activities as well as a collection of great (well, mostly great…hmm…) local bands coupled with a few of our favorite national artists from days gone by! Yeah, that oughta do it! The best part? FREE! Now there’s a word you don’t hear too often anymore (unless it’s describing what Councilwoman JoAnn Watson assumed her property taxes were). It’s always easy for Metro Detroiters to boost the Motown economy by taking in a ball game, or popping into the Science Center for the Star Trek exhibit, but why not get to know the city one-on-one? The River Walk is a fantastic place to get in touch with what really makes the city tick…you’ve got the gentle flow of the river, power walkers, kiddies on the carousel, an ice cream stand, always a caricature artist or two, and this weekend: FREE MUSIC AND EVENTS! There was a minor setback when GM pulled funding for the festival this year, and a few cuts had to be made, but you wouldn’t know it by the lineup scheduled! Yeah, I know, The Gin Blossoms were rockin’ it when I was still wearing Hypercolor shirts, but it’s FREE people (are you detecting a pattern here?). If it’s the little ones you’re concerned with, trust me, they’ve thought of everything! There will be a display of tall ships (think Jack Sparrow!), a Kid Zone chock full of games, music, and crafts, and even a parade of lights showcasing local boater’s prized possessions. So if you’re looking for a little something different this weekend, be sure to carve an hour or two into your day and head on over to the River Days at the Detroit Riverfront, you won’t be disappointed (and neither will your pocket book)! Cat Got Your Tongue, Monica? The sky is blue, a Hot Pocket and Ramen noodles are perfect for lunch on a chilly day, and Monica Conyers is bad for Detroit…no news here. Under the scrutinous eye of the public, however, Conyers never seemed to care much about the latter. She didn’t care about what people thought or what they had heard spewed angrily from her mouth. Oh, how she loved to compare public figures to beloved, green CGI ogres. My, how she reveled in her astute observations of those requiring the aid of hearing devices and possible oncology care. A true poster child for free speech, Monica always had something on her mind and somehow a forum to make it known. After all, it’s just us. Lil’ ol’ Detroit: the folks that have known her for a while now, who don’t question too much, who have blindly voted her and her name into power positions for years. She’s the star of our local, long-running sitcom “That’s Just Monica”, where she plays the wacky neighbor who just never seems to get it right. She knows just how much she could say and just how much she can get away with. Until now. Imagine her chagrin when it’s the big dogs who wanna have a little chit-chat. The Feds are familiar with our cast of characters, but have no interest in the hilarity and bumbling that ensues on a daily basis. They want answers, and, by all accounts, are intent on getting them. Why, I can almost hear her internal dialogue now. “You mean, they don’t care who my husband is? You mean, they’re actually checking my books, my numbers, my spending, and my decisions? There are people out there who will not only discover some of the poor behavior I’ve managed to blow past my constituents, but hold me accountable?! This is Detroit, don’t they know that? They want to expose years of uninterrupted corruption is favor of…gulp…truth, honesty, and service to the thousands who have put the fate of their city in my hands? THE NERVE!” Y’know, I’m trying to be a more positive person, but I can’t help but feel the anticipation of Monica finally being laid to political rest. I’m actually…happy…yes, happy she has nothing to say. When reporters ask for details on the investigation and rumored plea deal, she simply replies that she can’t talk about it. Can’t talk about it! Ha ha ha! Could this finally be it? The proverbial sock to stuff that uninformed, abusive mouth of hers? Did the long arm of, not only the law, but logic, morality, and accountability finally reach out to tap our corrupted council member on the shoulder? Golly, I hope so. And for all of our sakes, if she’s found guilty of evil doings, I hope it’s not a mere tap, but a full-fledged spanking. Our First Video!
Throughout this cyber-journey, we will be posting videos of our favorite spots in and around Detroit. Be it restaurants, businesses, or community events, there’s so much to love around Detroit, we simply MUST document a few! Our first video comes from the Ann Arbor Music Center - a great place to learn and polish your skills as a musician! Loooooong before Jack Black made it cool, the AAMC was crankin’ out the tunes with its original rock band school! Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biRFl6j_Aes Get in Touch with Your Inner Michigander at Kensington!
To many out of state folk, we here in Michigan are a bunch of beaver-skin cap wearin’, beef jerky chewin’, nature boys and girls. I, for one, embrace that notion! As the years pass, my pride level blossoms at the bounty of natural offerings that abound. I must admit, Twelve Oaks Mall is as close as I get to nature some days (that doggone Bath&Body Works ropes me in every time!). But, when I really want to ingest the fruits of Mother Nature, I run down a quick internal list of my favorite outdoor spots: past and present. Sentimentally speaking, my choice is always Belle Isle. Dad used to pack a cooler full of fresh nectarines, Rock n’ Rye, and a myriad of colorful candies from the Brach’s bulk bins, and haul our brood across the bridge to the shore line. Back then, the aquarium was the star of the show and our adventures in fountain coin-tossing would take us all the way to dusk. Time and budget cuts have been cruel to the wonderment of Belle Isle I remember from my childhood, and my visits are fewer and fewer. Fortunately, two and a half million folks yearly can’t be wrong about my new, second place natural playground: Kensington Metropark. Not only is this Metropark a fantastic way to stretch your legs and breathe deeply all the freshness Milford has to offer, but it’s a veritable playground for any nature lover. Perhaps kayaking is your thing…well, how about paddling the crystal waters of Kent Lake while smelling the Kingsford and sizzling ‘dogs on a nearby grill? Bill and I are particular fans of the paddleboating…we seem to have our best ideas (the idea for this site for one!) while enjoying the gentle lapping of the water on the paddles. The miles and miles of nature trails are always a great way to burn off some of those extra calories indulged upon at lunch time, too! If ever there were a perfect place to bring someone you love to show them exactly what Michigan is about, I can’t think of a better place than Kensington. From beaches to an 18 hole golf course, this place has it all. A seasonal pass for $20 is WELL worth the investment and the drive time! I implore all of our readers to pick a day - a bright, sunny, day and remember a few of the things Metro Detroit gets right! http://www.metroparks.com/parks/pk_kensington.php |
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