7/2/10

There are certain things that we Michiganians do as a matter of ritual.  One of these things is that we refuse to call ourselves Michiganders, whether or not our state is willing to adopt an 'official term.'  Another of these things takes place on holiday weekends.  Those of us from the southern part of the state, where there are plenty of things for civilized people to do, pack our shit and head to the northern part of the state, where there is very little for civilized people to do.  Don't ask why.  That's just the way it is.

Today began a little earlier than I would prefer, given that 10am is the earliest point at which I consider life to be worth living.  I perceive 7am to be the province of psychopaths and degenerates, but that's when I woke today.  Bummer.  I got up and headed over to the terminal in order to clear some things out of my truck.  After a lengthy stay on the road (like my most recent one), my truck tends to get a bit cluttered.  In such a case I prefer to drag everything out of the truck and then start over again.  I didn't manage to get everything out of my truck this morning, but I did make some progress.

After my trip to the terminal and a subsequent visit to McDonald's for breakfast, I had some time to kill.  I needed to get a birthday gift for my father and a few things for myself, but the stores weren't open yet.  (More proof that only an asshole would wake at 7am on a day when he didn't have to work.)  So I went home and watched another James Bond movie.

In the afternoon, after I headed back across town to the shopping mall, I noticed a couple of things.  First was that I buy my clothes in stores where very attractive people shop.  Second was that people who look like me tend to shop elsewhere.  Those people who look like me shop at places like Gander Mountain.  I can find nothing appealing about such a place (meaning that I need to work on my appearance, obviously), but I did manage to find a decent birthday gift for Dad.  Good enough.

Later in the afternoon, it was time to deal with that bizzare ritualistic pilgrimage to the northern half of the state.  I headed out along I-94 and flipped on the radio.  There were reports of tie-ups near the airport.  I live near the airport.  No traffic as far as I could see.  After I continued along for a while, there were reports of traffic along I-96 in the western suburbs.  I was on I-96 in the western suburbs.  No traffic as far as I could see.  Some time later, there were reports of traffic at a dead stop at the junction of I-96 and US-23.  I was approaching the junction of I-96 and US-23.  No traf... wait a minute... okay yeah, traffic was pretty fucked up there.  Time to duck off and get some dinner.

I got back on the road around an hour later and found that everything was rolling nicely.  Until I approached the Saginaw area, that is.

There's a stretch between Flint and Saginaw where the freeway has four traffic lanes.  Why they would get four lanes while those of us in Wayne County have to suffer through three lanes full of potholes, I don't know.  That's just the way it is.  At some point though, the four lanes are whittled down to three.  The left lane ends, so the people in the left lane should begin to merge gradually to the right.  If you think they do so... haha... I laugh at you.  Of course they don't do so.  The people in the left lane drive along until they run out of road.  Then they panic and jam themselves into the left-center lane at 10-20mph.  Then the people in the left-center lane freak out and jam themselves into the right-center lane.  Then the people in the right-center lane freak out and jam themselves into the right lane.  Hey... guess which lane has people trying to merge into it from the freeway entrance ramp on the right.  Yeah, this is what we Michiganians do on holiday weekends.  It's in our DNA.

As I sat parked in traffic on the Zilwaukee Bridge, I received a phone call from my mother.  She was wondering when I would be heading up for the family holiday weekend and such.  Already on the way, mama.  I told her of my predicament and she suggested that I should take the exit for MI-13 on the north side of the bridge.  I took the exit.  Then I sat stationary for ten minutes.  Then I wanted to kick my mother's ass.  There was a bridge under construction on MI-13, causing the delay.  After I made it across that bridge though, things shook out and the rest of the trip was fine.

The family is set to arrive up here in a piecemeal fashion.  My father has been here all week.  My mother arrived yesterday with my sister's kids.  I got here this evening.  My youngest brother showed up a couple of hours later.  My sister and her husband will be here tomorrow afternoon.  My other brother and his wife will be here on Sunday morning.  Once all is said and done, the whole crew will be around.  Then we'll head over to my aunt's place and we'll put the fear of God into anyone who wanders onto Lake Huron.  Be afraid.  Be very, very afraid.

Hey, awesome, it's the middle of the night and I'm awake after everyone else has gone to bed.  Why ask why?