East Jordan living

Once upon a time, there was a blogger named Meg whose blogspot grew cobwebs. The fans look forward to her return. The end.

When I received the above message, I figured its about time I start thinking about a new blog topic. I have been in Michigan for most of August. My grandfather goes to dialysis three times a week and every once in a while my aunts and uncles need a break from checking in on my grandparents. So, my mom and I went out there to help out and visit, but we did plan for a few exciting things as well, like getting our Christmas shopping done, haha.

East Jordan is the small town where my grandparents live, and if you imagine the caricature "small town" from any movie or novel, that would be East Jordan. A group of family members came to visit, so we all went out for dinner to a place called The Lumberjack. During the course of the meal, three people came in the door and shook my grandfather's hand ("Hey Charlie, how's it going??"), and two more at the bar were old friends of the out-of-towners at our table. East Jordan is a place where everyone knows everyone.

When my grandmother went to town to get her hair cut, I tagged along. I wandered down Main Street, window shopping. The clothing store was closed. I wasn't hungry, so that eliminated the bakery, The Lumberjack, the soda shop, and Murphey's Tavern. I passed up the auto parts store, and went into the antique shop, The Busy Bridge, where purchases are discounted if you are related to so-and-so. When I finished there, that was the end. Thats pretty much all that is on Main Street. Oh, and Bruce the Barber.

The barbershop looks like Bruce opened it in 1939 and has never closed it for renovations or upgrades. I went in to ask a question about straight razors. Bruce pulled one out, taught me how to tell whether its ready to be used or not, and proceeded to shave his arm to prove its worth. He got to asking me where I was from and why I was here, and who I was visiting.

"You're the S_____s' granddaughter? Oh, thats wonderful, they are nice people. Here, look at my photos, you'll like them."

There was one of him putting flags on veteran's graves, one declaring him a kidney-removal survivor, and one of his barbershop, framed and signed by my mom's cousin Rick. Talk shifted to my personal life, and he came out with this gem:

"Don't feel too bad that you've spent four years waiting for him. I bought a ring for my girl, and I put it on the friendship finger- you know, the opposite one- and so, I've been engaged for 24 years!" Here he leaned in as if to tell me a secret. "I go to her house for dinner- I always leave by 9:00 you know- but most of the time, I'm ready to leave before that!"

Before I left, I had to sign his guestbook, get a pin, two pieces of bubble gum, and a hug. A few days later my grandfather went in for a haircut and Bruce proudly showed him my name in the guestbook.

My grandparents always have neighbors dropping in to say hi. A visit to their house usually leaves me dizzy trying to remember the names and faces of people I've seen there. The most colorful people are the ones who've been friends with the S_____s for more than 30 years. I hope when I am older, I will be friends with people I've known more than 30 years. Relationships like that seem to make life more exciting.

One of the neighbors went out with us one day, and our trip took a bit longer than expected. He said, "Oh no, I'm late!" Mom was afraid maybe our delays had caused him to keep someone waiting or miss a meeting of some sort, and responded appropriately. He waved her off. "I was supposed to start drinking 45 minutes ago!"

And the last little anecdote I'll share in this post is simply a quote. "There was a family in town by the name of Cole. Well, one of the Slough family married a Cole, so they had a Cole-Slough wedding. True story."

That's colorful East Jordan in a nutshell.