The Andrew Extravaganza

From June 30th to July 5th I was in Michigan with the Morgan clan. If I owned a digital camera, I could have provided picture goodness to accompany this entry. Next year I’ll make sure to document things better; as for this year’s tale, I will use some generic pictures of the town that I found on the web.

My dad was born in San Antonio in 1956, but it was in Manistee, Michigan that he did most of his growing up. My grandfather spent his entire career as a chemical engineer with Morton Salt; from 1965-1974 he was assigned to their plant in Manistee. My memory is pretty fuzzy, but it was around 1990 that my grand parents bought a summer house in Manistee (they were living in the Chicago area at the time; they now reside in Baton Rouge).

The point of all this is that the Morgan clan has been congregating in Manistee for the 4th of July since they bought the house. We somehow manage to pack 11 to 15 people into a three bedroom, 2 bathroom house for a solid week’s time. It isn’t always pretty, but for my money it’s one my favorite times of the year.

Introducing the Victorian Port City: Manistee, Michigan

Manistee peaked at the beginning of the 20th century. Based mostly on a booming timber industry, it was the third largest city in Michigan at one time. I think the winter population is about 5,000, but during the summer it swells to between 12,000 and 15,000.

There are still a lot of Victorian style buildings and homes in the city. The main drag is River Street, which runs east/west on the south bank of the Manistee River. The majority of the 4th of July Parade runs down River Street.

Here’s a picture of the US-31 bridge over the Manistee River near the entrance to Manistee Lake.

Here’s the lighthouse:

James Earl Jones was born in Brethren, a town in northeast Manistee County. In his early acting career, he performed in the historic Ramsdell Theater:

The 4th of July festivities are part of the Manistee National Forest Festival, here’s the logo and a generic shot of the parade:

This festival is big time. This year (and several years before) the World Famous Twiggy the Water-Skiing Squirrel came to town to perform. I did not attend any of Twiggy’s performances this year, but I have had the pleasure of seeing him in years past.

I’ll stop playing the part of the Manistee Chamber of Commerce representative and return to what I did up there this year. I’ve Photo-shopped the aerial picture to show a few details:

There are three main activities that go on during the week: 1) Golf, 2) Party/Fireworks, and 3) the Parade.

1) Golf and the mass consumption of beer

This year I played three rounds of golf in three days. The weather was warm, low to mid eighties, but always with a strong wind blowing off Lake Michigan. On the first day (at the country club) I shot my best round ever, an even 100. Not bad for my first round of golf all year. The second day we played at Manistee National. It was a much more difficult course and therefore required more beer consumption to ease the pain. I carded a 106 en route to becoming very well acquainted with the flora and fauna of Michigan’s central LP.

The last day of golf was back at the country club on Sunday; it was one for the ages. Holes 7, 8, and 9 run parallel to Cherry Road, which isn’t heavy with traffic, but it does have a steady trickle. Worrying about a potential slice into the street, both my Uncle Ed and Uncle Dennis aimed well left and put their shots in the left side of the fairway and way left into the trees respectively.

As a lefty, my slice typically would have placed me well left and safely in the trees (or even onto the fairway of #6 when things really go bad). So based on my normal flight path, I wasn’t too worried about street traffic and decided to swing out of my ass and really go for it. In a disaster on par with the Columbia explosion and 9/11, I cut across the ball and sent it off about knee high like a cannon ball in that piece of crap movie The Patriot. As it flew over the center of Cherry Road, my slice went into effect and caused the ball to turn left and bounce merrily along in the right lane.

Cherry has a speed limit of 35 mph. Had it been just 40 mph, things would have turned out much better. My ball was tracking an old Ford Escort hatchback. Said Ford decided to make a right turn just as my ball closed in. A big hop sent my ball up onto the rear window and launched it off the roof into someone’s yard.

I would have ducked behind a tree, but I was paralyzed by fear as I watched disaster unfold before me. Adrenaline was coursing through my system in a way that I had never felt before.

The car’s window didn’t break, but the guy had to be pissed. I started thinking of how I would explain myself, but the car just kept going. Crisis averted. The adrenaline ruined my game for a long time though. Thankfully it was now past noon and we were finally able to get some much needed beer at the turn. I went on to shoot a 106.

2) Party/Fireworks and more alcohol consumption

The fireworks display is set off from the south beach on Lake Michigan. The deck behind my grandparents’ house offers a perfect vantage point, but I think it’s the food that draws the big crowd of family friends and neighbors.

My grandmother and my aunts Laura and Mae all work together to provide a Cajun smorgasbord. The poor bastards up there don’t see this kind of spread but once a year: crawfish pie, crawfish pasta, crawfish étouffée, crawfish saffron rice, sausage & chicken jambalaya, and spinach Madeleine are all featured and gluttony is encouraged.

3) The Parade

For the last 10 years we’ve entered a float in the parade. I’m not really sure what the motivation was (or is) behind this, but it turned out to be a hell of a good time. Our entry is as “The Harbor Drive Partying Society” (In the first couple of years it was “The Harbor Drive Walking Society” because we operated out of the back of a van).

Our float is built on top of a 16’ X 8’ flat bed trailer, which is pulled by a family friend’s truck (the Kiefer’s). Every year but one, the float has been green and gold (Mardi Gras like in appearance) and featured several American flags. Last year it was decked out in purple and gold and a large LSU flag to celebrate LSU’s first national championship in football since 1958.

We usually pay cursory attention to the theme of the parade and blatantly ignore several of the governing rules and regulations. The largest violation is our throwing of Mardi Gras beads. The first year we dispensed about 5,000. This year we set a new high water mark by dishing out about 20,000. And these aren’t crappy beads either; they’re the real deal like you would get while celebrating debauchery down in New Orleans.

I’m being modest when I say this: Our float (and I suppose the Scottsville Clown Band) is the only reason to go to the parade. Next year I’ll have pictures. It will be a sight to behold.