Return to Hoth, or The Air Hurts My F***ing Face, Pt. I

So a couple months ago, my maternal grandma had a nasty fall.  I won't go into the details, but she sustained a head injury so severe she needed surgery to reduce brain swelling.  A risky procedure for anyone, sure enough, but for a woman in her mid-80s it's more or less a death sentence.  The doctors gave her a razor-thin chance of pulling through, and told our family to prepare for the worst.  And we did.

Then, as it always goes with my grandma, she pulled through unscathed.

My plane, enjoying the Orlando sun while it still can. . .

Still, despite a successful surgery and recovery, she's more frail than ever, and so after speaking with multiple family members I decided I should fly back to Michigan to visit with her. . . as horrible as it sounds, in the chance that she doesn't make it 'til June when the Houghs return to Michigan for good. I figured this would be a wise move with regards for my paternal grandma as well - though not nearly as frail, she's even older (late '80s) and is slowly but surely losing her memory.

Cheery, cheery business.

Anyway, I was looking forward to the trip, regardless of its somber overtones - I hadn't been home in a couple years, so it was long overdue.  I had to take two days off of work (which I wasn't fond of doing, seeing how I get a whopping ten for the whole year), but obviously it was worth it.  Our schedules worked out so that Kris was able to drop me off at the airport on her way to work on Thursday.  Weirdly enough, security didn't make me take off my shoes or jacket, or unpack my laptop from my briefcase. . . I just waltzed through the metal detector like it was the frickin' 1980s or something.  Not sure if they just aren't feeling the 'terrorist' thing anymore or what.

Read this now.

Pretty cool, though - I'm definitely not complaining.

I had to sit at the gate for a couple hours, but I've been reading Korda's Hero lately (a biography on T.E. Lawrence - one of my favorite historical figures), so time went by pretty fast.  When it came time to board the plane, I found that we had one of those larger, newer planes Delta added to its fleet - a 2-3-2 seating arrangement (I fortunately had an aisle seat), with the screens in the back of the seats, just like on larger, international flights.

I wasn't down for paying for an in-flight movie (I'm sure it would've cost $10 to watch one), so I just kept it on that little map screen that shows your plane's current location and the flight's remaining time, and read more of my book.

Sunny in Detroit, too. . . only about sixty degrees colder.

Welcome to Michigan, indeed.

Damn it, Michigan.

When we landed in Michigan, two hours later, the first thing stepping off the plane was the smell of the cold air - that's something you forget about, being down in the sub-tropics.  Cold air has a smell to it.  And it's dry, too - I guess I'm used to the high humidity down here - I tore through a tube of chapstick like no one's business while in Michigan.  Leaving the airport, the air was so cold it felt like it was burning the skin of my face. . . I'm definitely investing in some heavier winter clothing when I get back home.

Anyway, I had booked a rental car through Hotwire.com, which gives you an absolutely insane rate on rental cars. . . the only downside (if you can even consider a downside) is that they don't tell you the rental agency you're going to use until after you've checked out online.  This might be a deal-breaker if you're booking a hotel, but for a rental car, who the hell cares.  I ended up getting a full-size car from Alamo for $18 a day, which is awesome.

My Nissan Maxima

I wanted the larger size 'cause I'm not used to driving in the snow, so I wanted a vehicle with some heft to it.  The people at Alamo let me choose my own car out of six or seven they had on the lot, and I came close to going with a Ford Mustang, but ultimately decided against it seeing how the Mustang is a rear-wheel drive vehicle, and I'd be driving in snowy conditions.

Not cool.

More importantly, it didn't have an auxiliary input for my iPod.  If I was going to be spending six hours plus driving this sum'bitch, I was going to be listening to my music while doing so.

In the end, I went with a Nissan Maxima, which had plenty of pickup, smooth handling, and a great sound system (obviously the most important of my criteria.)  It took me probably fifteen minutes to figure out how to turn the car on (it had the push-start thing) and operate the heater (it heated the inside cabin automatically when you set the temperature, so I fumbled with the vents cursing the cold air blowing in my face for nothing,) but I eventually got the car off the lot and on to the highway heading north towards Midland.

Remember ice scrapers?  We don't have those in Florida.

A 'high' of 8 degrees.  Hooray for Michigan winters. . .

My trusty GPS.

Due to a traffic accident, my GPS - which I can only assume receives its instructions from a mentally retarded, chain-smoking chimp - decided to reroute my course home, and kicked me off the expressways onto 30 - 45 mph back roads.   For the next hour and half, I drove around God knows where in the greater Detroit area - it was dark out, the traffic (and weather) was insane, and I was completely at Retarded Smoking Chimp's mercy.  Eventually, and inexplicably, I found myself getting onto trusty ol' I-75, just north of Flint.

In the end, I only lost about ten minutes. . . so I guess that GPS chimp of mine has some credibility after all.

I got to Mom and John's house in Midland around 8:15pm, and was able to Skype with the girls back in Orlando before they went to bed.  We visited for awhile, but I was pretty exhausted from my seven or so hours or travel, and both Mom and John had to work in the morning, so we all turned in and I was out by 10pm.

*                 *                   *                    *

Mom and John's house in Midland.

Everyone had to work today, so I decided to run errands throughout town until everyone got home.  My baby brother Jeff stopped by at the ass-crack of dawn to drop off a diaper bag for Scarlet, and shortly afterwards Mom and John both left for work, leaving Yours Truly behind to enjoy a cup of coffee and a quiet, arctic morning. . .  

I made it a point this trip to crash in each of my old rooms at both Mom's and Dad's houses.  This room used to by my bedroom at Mom's before they converted it into to a guest bedroom. . .

The newly remodeled kitchen - completely different from when we were here last, for Christmas of 2011.

This was a huge add-on they did, from what used to be much-smaller screen-room off the back of the kitchen. . .

Backyard

I took this so my kids could see that I actually had physical interaction with the magical substance known as 'snow.'

Breakfast of champions.  I probably killed an entire 2 liter of Vernor's by myself while at Mom's. . . we don't have the Nectar of the Gods down in Florida.

Meh.

Around 9:30am or so, I decided to get out and hit up a couple places around town.  Being the Dad Away on a Trip, I had to pick up souvenirs for my kids.  I was thinking of getting them something Michigan-y, and so Mom recommended Glover's Pharmacy around the corner from their house.  I remembered the place from growing up in Midland - we used to swing in there to check out Troll dolls (remember them?) while getting Slurpees from a next-door 7-11.

Unfortunately, all the crap they had inside Glover's was over-priced knick-knacky crap that the elderly flip their shit over, and nothing seemed worthwhile for my kids, so I decided to swing out to another Michigan staple instead to try my luck. . .

Meijer.

I probably mentioned this before, but I actually used to work at Meijer on and off throughout college (mostly in Kalamazoo.)  For those of you living outside the Midwest and reading this, they're more or less Wal-Mart Super Centers with better customer service and a somewhat classier clientele.

(Somewhat.)

After shopping around a bit, I picked up the girls some Valentine's Day candy, a few books (a Star Wars reader and Junie B. Jones chapter book), and a card game.  I would've done more, but I was after small items, as my carry-on was already bursting at the seams and couldn't take big toys or the like.

Heaven on Earth.

My next stop was what could quite possibly be the greatest pipe tobacco distributor in central Michigan - Midland's very own Tobacco Shoppe.  I love this joint.  Every time I go in there, I'm floored by its friendly staff, great selection, and competitive prices.

Great selection.

This time around, though, there were a few things that disappointed.  For one, they were phasing out one of my favorite tobacco blends - the Creme Brulee (shut up, it's amazing.)  The silver lining here was that the remaining bags were priced for clearance, and I was able to get 12 oz for half price.  They also alluded to the fact they might be able to special order more once I move back, so that'll be something definitely worth looking into.

Smoking room.

Another blow to the nuts happened once I checked out.  I asked if I could sample one of the ounces of a different blend I had just purchased, as usually in the past they allow you to sample blends in the store, provided you bring your pipe (which I always do.)  I was saddened to hear that, since my last visit in 2011, Michigan had passed an ordinance prohibiting the smoking of pipes indoors.  This was aimed at hookah users, but ultimately tobacco pipe smokers suffered in the legislation as well.  You could tell the store owners felt like shit for telling me this - it's obviously not their fault - but they did tell me they set up tables outside during the summer so that pipe smokers can hang out and enjoy free samples.

Today's haul - two new blends to try out, and the aforementioned Creme Brule favorite.

Again, something worth checking out when we move home in June.

Still standing.

Tobacco secured, I headed back towards Mom and John's house, but along the way I decided to pull into an old comic shop from my childhood - Collector's Corner.  We used to duck into this place as kids to check out superhero cards and flip through X-Men comics, so I was happy to see the place still up and running.  Not being a huge comic book fan myself, I had the owner show me to the area where they housed comics geared towards younger, emerging readers.

Nerd Central.

Almost bought this for the title alone. . .

IDW and Dark Horse - pretty renowned publishers, one tier down from DC and Marvel - do a lot of licensed character publishing, meaning they take existing shows or franchises (like My Little Pony, Littlest Pet Shop, the Wizard of Oz, etc.) and make comics based on them.  I tried to find some stand-alone comics for the girls, knowing Abby would be too young to read them, but would enjoy the artwork, and Alayna would probably get into them.  Most comics geared towards this demographic contain story arcs within a single issue - as little kids can't follow a story across multiple issues - so I settled for an adaptation of Frozen and the first issue of Littlest Pet Shop.

Crack for kids.

If the girls take to these, it's a cheap, user-friendly way of getting little kids into reading.

I'm all about that.

Bay Shitty.  Heh.

Scenic Bay City.

Once back at Mom's, my brother Chris swung by and picked me up so that we could retrieve his wallet from his girlfriend's apartment in Bay City.

She was out of town snowboarding, so it was just a matter of ducking in, grabbing his wallet, feeding her two cats - yes, cats - and heading back towards Midland to buy booze for the weekend.

Should've waited out here. . .

Now, as you'll recall, Yours Truly is allergic - nay, deathly allergic - to the feline species.  Even if I wasn't, I wouldn't like cats.  Cats are assholes.  They think they're better than people, and that. . . that's just ridiculous.

. . .and they taste bad.  Despite what any Ghanain will tell you.  Trust me.

So me, being allergic to cats, and being consciously aware of my cat allergy, took meds beforehand, and anticipated not staying in Chris' girlfriend's place long.  Alas, after a mere two minutes of standing in the entry way to her apartment while Chris picked up his wallet and fed the accursed beasts, my allergies began to flare up.  I walked back into the hallway, the damage done - for the rest of the evening, I'd be sniffling like a sum'bitch.

God, I hate cats.

Back in Midland, Chris and I hit Eastman Party Store (which I recently found out an ex-girlfriend of mine might be buying, oddly enough), where Yours Truly purchased a bottle of Maple Birddog Whiskey (my whiskey of choice for our Tennessee Adventure last June, if you'll remember), but that I haven't been able to find down in Orlando since.

Apparently it's not it's not a big seller among Floridians, but fortunately where we'll be moving to in a few months there are still drinkers with good taste.

The Midland City Brewery

Dublin Street Stout - my weapon of choice.

The whiskey was for tomorrow at Dad's, so we next swung out to the Midland City Brewery to refill a growler Chris had (we ended up on an IPA he highly recommended.)  Inside, randomly, we found our step-dad, John, who was working on some proposal or something, and bought us a round before we all headed back over to the house.

When we finally did get back to Mom's, Scarlet and the grandparents were there, and we quickly transitioned into Family Visit Mode.

Behold:

Scarlet Hough - Alayna and Abby's two-year-old doppelganger. 

Grandpa Chinery's after some Goldfish. . .

This kid kept dragging assorted bags and purses towards the front door.  I guess she was funned out with the whole 'family visit' thing.

'Helping' Grandma in the kitchen

Waiting patiently for dinner.

Grandma was in high spirits, and mentally same as always.  She's lost a lot of weight recovering from surgery, though. . . but overall, her health seems okay.  Hopefully this holds out 'til June when we move back - she really wants to see our girls again.

Messing with Grandma's tupperware?  Prepare to be scolded, Niece.

Making super-healthy pizzas. . .

Killing more time before dinner. . . 

Scarlet couldn't get enough of this guy.

Grandpa flashes his standard, 'I'm eating' face.

Escorting the grandparents to their car after dinner.

Scarlet looks out the window, pissed she wasn't invited along on this escorting venture. . .

The Aftermath

Getting tired

After Grandma and Grandpa left, Chris ran over to his house (just around the block) and picked up his child, Tucker.  The grandparents are too frail to have a hyperactive dog jumping on them and running between their legs, so it was best to wait until after they left to bring him by.

After Jeff and Annie took Scarlet home, Mom pulled out a bunch of old family photos for me and Chris to sort through and catalog for her.  And, in typical Mom fashion, they were completely unsorted and undated.  Fortunately, we had a growler to keep us company. . .

Stay tuned for Part II, America.

- Brian