Aweek of vacation in the upper reaches of Michigan can do the mind and soul good.
Body would have been included in this statement as well if a supply of fudge, wine and cherry pie so bountiful it canceled out regular swims in Lake Michigan didn’t make it a whopper of a lie.
Although ... maybe fudge and wine therapy isn’t that bad after all.
Last week, my parents, brother, husband and I sought an antidote to what ailed us in my mother’s birthplace, Traverse City, Mich. For those who have never been to this beautiful region, it’s in the dip between the ring finger and pinkie in the “hand” that forms the lower part of Michigan.
We were privileged to stay in the home of my uncle’s late parents, a more-than-century-old farmhouse with a private beach on the West Bay of Grand Traverse Bay. The homestead’s deed was signed by Abraham Lincoln. Despite some bats in the barn and no air-conditioning, it was the perfect place to kick back and relax.
Early in the week, we ventured even farther north across Mackinac Bridge to the Upper Peninsula. We stopped in Sault St. Marie to watch an ore-laden tanker pass through the locks, drove by mom’s alma mater, Lake Superior State University, and ate at Antlers, where mom told us about the night she, her friends and a six-pack watched the original establishment burn to the ground.
We then trekked to Whitefish Bay, where the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in 1975. Gordon Lightfoot’s ode to the tanker is on the soundtrack to my childhood, so I wasn’t leaving the UP without setting foot on Superior’s beaches.
After stops at Tahquamenon Falls, a casino or two and the bicycle-infested Mackinaw Island, we headed back to Traverse.
It is at this point I began to get distracted.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved spending a leisurely week with my family in one of the most beautiful places in the Midwest.
But my heart was somewhere else ... San Diego.
It’s where, for four days, my people — the Geeks — reign supreme. Where Hollywood tries to knock the socks off those of us who are the pulse of pop culture. Where the words Comic and Con are one.
You see, on Thursday, when I was watching the rain sweep across the lake, my peeps were watching exclusive footage of Summit Entertainment’s Bruce Willis flick “Red” and listening to geek gods J. J. Abrams and Joss Whedon extol their wisdom. And some, those lucky dogs, got the surprise of their lives when director Edgar Wright marched them across the street to see his new film “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.”
On Friday, while I was sipping wine at Leelanau Winery, the geeks were snapping up free gifts from Aspen Comics and watching the world premier of Marvel’s “Iron Man” anime series. They also got a look at “The Green Hornet” and “The Other Guys.”
On Saturday, while I watched the Traverse City Beach Bums beat the Washington Wild Things, they listened to Ryan Reynolds recite the Green Lantern oath at the behest of a young fan. They saw geek icon Harrison Ford dragged into his first Comic Con in handcuffs in the “Cowboys & Aliens” panel. And, Odin smite them, they saw the Avengers assemble.
On Sunday, while I made the long trek home, the geeks concluded their fun by savoring Nathan Fillion in the “Castle” panel and singing along to the Buffy musical.
I envy them. How amazing it would’ve been to see the first footage of “Thor.” Or witness first-hand what’s on tap for Marvel and DC Comics.
But I also wouldn’t have missed a classic Schwartz family vacation for all the Comic Con exclusives in the world.
Thank God for Twitter ...
Contact Heather Bremer, who is still trying to master the mutant power of being in two places at once, at 640-4867 or heather.bremer@heraldbulletin.com.
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