When in Rome

We're not Judy Garland gays, but her birthplace was next to our motel.
And now we depart Grand Rapids.


Ann said...
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Ann said...

Unsolicited Guest Blogger strikes again!

Driving home from the writing festival, in need of lunch and gas but in no particular rush, I spied on my old-fashioned, analog map the perfect stopover town: Clear Lake, Iowa. Rather than fuel up in a grimy truck stop or Qwik Kum Ezy type station (the names offensive to my now highly literate sensibilities) I decided to stop in this, what I imagined to be quaint, Minnesota-wanna-be town. With fewer lakes in Iowa, it was bound to be a destination shore with at least one sweet lunch joint.

That’s what I got, and more.

Turns out it was the annual Bicycle, Blues, and BBQ festival, though a local aptly called it Blues, BOOZE, and BBQ. So I had my lunch (pulled pork sandwich from a tent stand in City Park) while listening first to Jonny Lang (on CD, a favorite of mine) and then live blues. The band’s first song was “Superstitious,” lead guitar by a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer (whom I didn’t know), with the 5-year old son of the bass guitarist on drums. As they began, daddy waved out into the seated audience and said, “Hi, Dad.” His white-haired father (grandfather to the drummer) waved back, then literally hobbled to a seat.

Meanwhile, several flights of bikers whipped their way around the park, making me think of our beloved eWac.

After a little antique-shopping success, I headed back to the highway and home, just in time to see these freshly posted pictures of Eric’s race.

A well-rounded day, overall.