Michigan Mud Jam 2013

Yes, I'm aware that mud jams, monster trucks and the like are not usually sporting events for the disabled. However we went to this event in Hale, Michigan because our nephews and their significant others and friends wanted to go and make a big party of it. It's just not a party without Uncle Wild Bill, and I couldn't see any reason why I couldn't enjoy it to, and I did, BUT, it is not an event I feel comfortable recommending to my fellow Gimps.

This event was held at the Iosco County Fairgrounds and some neighboring property. It was open to anything from monster-sized mud trucks like Dennis Anderson's King Sling to your more run-of-the-mill lifted farm trucks and boggers all the way down to side-by-sides and 4-wheelers. We took our crew cab side-by-side Polaris Ranger, but there were people there with everything under the sun--even their 4WD everyday trucks, cars and SUVs! One of my favorites was a Volkswagen Beetle, lifted, on mud tires, and damned if he didn't even pull a stuck pickup truck out of the mud! (We demanded the driver of the pickup relinquish his man-card immediately!) Another favorite of mine was a lifted lawn tractor with big mud tires. I don't know how they did that, but I think it would be great of Wild Bill built one of those! The only thing we didn't see were any 3-wheelers. They were expressly forbidden. And I have to tell you, that was the ONLY rule I heard about ahead of time.

The weekend was odd for me because of it's lack of rules of any kind. Even if there WERE any rules, there was no one around to enforce them! No one wore helmets, and people drove around in the mud and up and down the roads with as many people they could pile onto their vehicles--such as 5 people on one 4-wheeler, a dozen or more people on one Ford F-150, etc. That was okay early in the day except for the CHILDREN! So many young kiddies under the age of ten that had no safety precautions taken on their behalf whatsoever! I'm usually not big on child advocacy or child safety laws, mostly because I have no kids, never raised them, and in general I'm not interested in them. But seeing all these kids riding on their dad's lap on a 4-wheeler through a mud pit or a big pond, or just zipping down the roads through the camping area. We saw a pickup tip over in one of the mud ponds, and there were unrestrained KIDS in it, for crying out loud!

Except for to logic-challenged parents, it seemed like 98% of the people there were cool. That is, they didn't MEAN to be rude, and if you pointed out to them that they'd run over your tent stakes or blocked you in so you couldn't move your ATV, they'd move for you. But as Saturday passed into the afternoon hours, the campers grew drunker, rowdier, and uglier. We heard people start yelling at each other over stupid things, and there was no one around to keep the peace. If your camping space was next to theirs, you were on your own! When it became obvious it was unsafe to even drive your toys in the mud bogs because the drunks were now taking over, we packed it in and left for home. From what I understand from our friends and family who camped there the whole weekend, Thursday night and Friday things didn't get so ugly. People drank, of course, but it was more of a "cool," laid-back kind of drunk, the kind I actually enjoy now and then!

As a Gimp, I had hoped that although the grandstands had no handicapped seating, there might be a place where I could stand and people might allow me to see the action after a few quiet coughs and "excuse me's" but no such luck. I even had trouble walking down the road--thank goodness by Saturday no one was allowed to drive in the grandstand area because I'm sure I'd have been run over! The road was bumpy and deeply rutted, and mine was the only rolling walker I saw, but I saw two wheelchairs and lots of walking canes. It was extremely HARD to get around the area on foot, and I was shoved and bumped like a pinball. Here again, in most of the world people will be more polite about running over an obvious cripple, but not here. I saw one old granddad who had brought his grandsons to see the big truck show get knocked right over by a group of guys in their mid-20's who didn't even seem like they were wasted, just rude, rough thugs.

So in a nutshell, although I DID enjoy myself to a certain degree, I now have a much healthier respect for rules, regulations and security. I'd LIKE to think that people are cool and you don't need rent-a-cops at every event, but now I've changed my mind. Later I'll comment on the organization of the Michigan Mud Jam.

Clare Brewfest

Today I went to the Clare Brewfest, a one-day event featuring samples of craft beers from all over Michigan. I don't care for beer myself, but this year I couldn't resist because they added samples from five Michigan WINERIES!!!  Three I've actually visited in the past, but who cares? I was there to "sample" the festival's set-up.

The Brewfest was held in a downtown parking area and empty field across the street from the City Park, the police department and the fire department. There were large canopies over the tasting areas, picnic tables and other round tables for people to congregate around, a performance stage for live

music, bleachers, and a temporary metal fence surrounding the entire area. Here's the band that was playing while I was there during the afternoon: Third Coast Steel Band. They had a fun, summery sound, making me feel like I was waiting for a Jimmy Buffet concert to start!

Entry was gained through a check-in area in one corner of the festival grounds. Most of the ground under the tent was paved, and there were wood chips along the edges. Wood chips and some sort of temporary sidewalk led from the entrance to the tasting tent; the rest of the ground was lumpy, sandy ground with occasional patches of grass and weeds.

I arrived at 3:30 pm, roughly an hour and a half after the festival opened. There were still many open parking spaces within a two-block radius, and several of them were right across the street at the park. A person who could walk a block or more would have no trouble reaching the festival. A person who was attending with an able-bodied companion but could not walk quite that far could still enter the grounds and wait at a picnic table while her companion parked the car.

Anyone using a wheelchair, a motorized mobility chair or scooter would have no trouble navigating the festival. The samples were obtained from long banquet tables, easy to approach and a comfortable level. Anyone who is using a basic aluminum walker or a cane or crutches would need a posse. There isn't anywhere to set your sample drink glass down under the tent so you'll have to dance your way over to a gap between the tables to get outside to a table or the bleachers. Also a strong bladder would be helpful: although the porta-johns are supposedly handicap acessible, really are they EVER?

There were other ways to attend besides arriving by car. A train brought festival goers from Owosso.

There was also a bus painted up like an old trolley that is part of Isabella County Transportation that arrived some time after I did. This trolley is handicap accessible.

Despite the proximity to Clare Castle, a senior housing building, I didn't see many senior citizens attending. I also didn't see anyone else in attendance that had any visible mobility issues. I brought my rolling walker with the built-in seat. All I needed was an attachable table and I'd have been set! Here is how close Clare Castle was to the tent:

That white canopy is the ticket gate--just kitty-corner across the street!

Bottom line:  Next year if you are looking for a little outing for Grandpa and he enjoys a nip of beer and live music, don't be afraid to bring him down to the Clare Brewfest, tentatively scheduled for August 16-ish.

Not All Disabilities Are The Same

Just a short rant--I keep looking for groups on Facebook and "real life" that offer opportunities, tips, resources, etc for people with physical handicaps, but they are very hard to find and slip through my fingers as fast as I can find them. I've found a few groups on Facebook that seem to be abandoned. Others are only for people who want to ski, go rock climbing, compete in marathons, etc, even though the members are all paralyzed to some degree. My goals are not that lofty. I only want to live a normal life for a 50+ year old woman who likes to occasionally lunch out without suffering the indignity of getting trapped in a walker-eating doorway, shop in a store with aisles wide enough for people to limp through with mobility aids, enjoy a show or a sporting event in which I can be seated comfortably without the staff having to pass me on to three or more other people because no one knows how to "handle" a mobility aid and they can't figure out where to seat me.

Oh, I forgot to mention that many of the "disability" groups are mostly for the mentally-challenged, and the jury is still out of whether I fit that description, ha! And some are so vague in their description of what they are about and who their members are, I decide they aren't for me because I'm not looking for more confusion in my life right now.

The End.

House Hunters

Sometimes I watch "House Hunters" on HGTV if I'm off my feet for any length of time. It amazes me how some people who don't appear to have any steady source of income cry "poverty" and must stick with a ridiculously high "budget." of more than most people here in Michigan will ever be able to afford. Equally amazing is how a house can be priced at something like $180K and only have two bedrooms, one tiny bath and a cracked foundation! I know things are "different" in Michigan, but am I living in a parallel universe?

Lost Opportunities

A house Bill and I coveted several years ago is now on the market. It is on Harrison Avenue, the paved part between Ludington Drive and Surrey Road, and has the screened-in porch I'v always wanted. There's a detached 2-car garage, four flat, cleared acres, mostly out back, that Bill could have used tor a practice track and plenty of room for a good-sized dog run. It's one story with some nice extras like a sidewalk from the garage to the front door, and a covered entryway. I believe the previous owner had passed away shortly before we started looking at it, and it's possible the house has been vacant all this time. It's currently listed for $37,000. but it never came on the market while we were looking and we never knew why.

I actually know a couple for whom this house would do very well. Close for his job, close to the residence of her business associate; they'd save a fortune on gas. It needs work, but they have a master carpenter in the family who could fix whatever they can't do themselves. But, she is screwing me over, or trying to anyway, so I'll never tell.

Just A Little While Longer...

Little Dreamboat Annie, as I call her, is already mastering the doggie door and knows that "going potty" is done outside--however at just over 6 weeks of age she hasn't mastered "control" yet. Today she got a gentle brushing and offered her tummy so I could get her all evenly groomed. Rugs are coming up off the floor until she's completely potty-trained, and I've stocked up on Swiffers and wet-mops. I treasure this time with her so much--we've never had such a young baby before!

On a totally different subject: why don't dollar stores carry something as basic as string or twine?

Changing of the Guard (Dogs)

Abandoned this little project a while back when I was too busy, yet not going anywhere, but it's time to get back at it. The day before yesterday we bought a puppy.

Our previous puppy, Jerry, lived only until 2 1/2 years old. He had a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, probably since birth, that worsened faster than the vets could treat it and we finally had to make the difficult decision to just let him go. It was a valiant fight, but when it became clear that we were not going to win, we made the decision that we were not going to make him suffer. As long as he maintained a level of devilment and playfulness we'd keep on fighting, but one day he began failing very fast and we took him in to Surrey Vet and had him peacefully released while we held him in our arms. We requested his cremains but we don't know yet how we will memorialize him.

Immediately, people came out of the woodwork offering to give us the dogs they wanted to be rid of! I don't know how many such offers Wild Bill fielded, but I had 7 in one day last weekend!  I am all about "recycling" pets, having adopted my beloved Cooper from a rescue group in western Michigan, but I just wasn't ready. Cooper was really enjoying being an only dog, and I'll confess I was enjoying the "freedom" from life with a problem child. But Bill came to me Wednesday night and told me, "I know what my problem is."

"Which one?" I asked, knowing full well what he meant, but being unable to resist the opening for a jab. "Haven't you noticed how depressed I've been lately?" he persisted. And yes, besides my own bouts of inconsolable weeping and deep pangs of loss, I'd noticed he was even quieter than usual and smiled even less than what was normal for his grouchy self.

But I'm proud of him for admitting to his sadness and weakness, and for being willing to step right up and fill that void with a new dog right away. Happily I skipped off to the Clare County Animal Shelter to see if there were any guests of the county that might interest him. There weren't, but new dogs come in all the time, plus there are several other county shelters in a 50 mile radius.

But there was a breeder in Coleman who had one purebred German Shepherd little girl left, and we drove out to see her. They called her "Pinkie" because she was wearing the pink plaid collar, and she and her litter-mates turned 6 weeks old that day. Normally I don't like to pull a puppy from their mother until 8 weeks or so, but these pups were all fully weaned already; healthy, fluffy, active little darlings! Pinkie attached herself to Wild Bill's legs and feet immediately; she accepted my presence and my holding her but it was clear from the moment she caught Bill's scent that HE was her Daddy, and she was going to be Daddy's Little Girl!

So this is Annie:

The first night was a mess. Bill is temporarily working the overnight shift, and we put Annie in a crate for the ngith with cuddly things, a little chow and a bowl of water. SHE NEVER SHUT UP ALL NIGHT LONG! Poor Cooper's nerves were just shot!  So last night when she fell asleep next to Bill's recliner, I just let her lay there and snuggled up next to Cooper on the spare bed in the office and fell asleep watching some special-effects movie. She did fine! A few piddle spots in the kitchen and a big healthy poop on the chair mat (thank you for not doing that on my floor!)

So as we start another chapter in our lives, I thought it was time to start up my animal-loving, non-productive, no-income, lopsided and crippled diary. Again. Now with (hopefully) less bitch.