Must Do in the D....#1

Marvelous Marvin's Mechanical Museum

Remember in Big when the-boy-who-would-become-Tom-Hanks wishes upon that so-creepy-its-the-coolest-thing-ever carnival machine called Zoltar Speaks? Remember how you wanted one? Remember how it was frightening and mysterious but, at the same time, tantalizing and fantastic? Well, that's Marvin's in a nutshell.

I remember when I first walked into his cramped strip mall location in Farmington Hills, down the rows and rows of coin-operated machines from all eras. Things hung from the ceiling, the walls, and everywhere around you there were bells and sirens and beeps and sounds as the machines sprang to life before some delighted and possibly mesmerized patron. When I was locked in the movements of any given machine, I was immediately transfixed and I could almost be convinced that, yes, I did want to run away and join the circus and, yes, I could live without all modern conveniences if it could just be 1929 or 1899 or 1910 all over again.

I briefly considered how I could pull off the theft of Marvin's collection of Carter The Great posters so that I could covetously keep them with me for always. Although, after meeting Marvin, I suspect he has the power to command retribution for such an act, be it mafia-like or supernatural.

Walking through Marvin's is much like wandering the dusty aisles of an antique shop. The machines create a yellowed and outdated atmosphere that is at once comfortable and terrifying. Every time I slipped a coin into the slot of one of the giant wooden cabinets, I wished with every fiber of my being that something magical would happen to transform me.

Marvin's has remained one of my most special memories of metro Detroit. Everyone must go there at least once and play every game in the joint.


Marvin's Online

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The Maize and Blue On An Afternoon

This afternoon, on a bright and crisp, clear-skied day, I and a number of friends and acquaintances descended on Ann Arbor for some fun and frivolity. Ann Arbor is located about 40 miles from Detroit along the I-94 corridor and is the home to one of the Big 10, University of Michigan. Poor planning on our part had us arriving just as the graduation ceremony was letting out but, surprisingly, the town was not overly crowded.

Ann Arbor is a beautiful college town and reminds me and Remy of our own alma mater, Indiana University Bloomington. The houses are quaint, the landscape lush and well manicured, the buildings are substantial brick and stone behemoths and the downtown is filled with hip and interesting boutiques, all of them bustling with young people in pursuit of higher learning.

We started our afternoon of escape from the chaos and agitation of the city with lunch at Pizza House. Pizza House proves that you can have Chicago pizza outside of Chicago. If you're in the mood for drinks, they have a number of tasty Long Island Iced Tea specials (I had the Sicilian) as well as wine and beer. I have to admit, I've never had anything other than pizza at the Pizza House but I did notice, as I was salivating over the photo of the pizza I was about to get, that they carry a full menu of other food types like sandwiches and pub-style food.

From Pizza House, we made a stop at Pinball Pete's, a still-standing relic of an arcade from any Gen Xer's childhood. Pete's is in the basement of a building just around the corner from Pizza House and is filled with at least a dozen pinball games, all manner of first person-shooter games, interactive games like Dance Dance Revolution (3 different versions) and Guitar Hero, as well as air hockey and skeeball.

Next door to Pete's is a bubble tea shop where we stopped briefly at the request of the pregnant lady among us. If you've never had bubble tea, it's a smoothy-type beverage with large tapioca pearls in it. In order to drink it, you are given a huge straw capable of sucking up the pearls. For some, bubble tea is an unnerving, squidgy experience. For others, like our pregnant comrade, it is a treat.

If you're into incense (which I'm not) and all things mystical, folkloric or fantastical (which I am also not) as well as gifts, cards, jewelry and toys, Middle Earth is a stop you might consider making. Ever found yourself in desperate need of a coffee mug with something clever blazoned across it or coveting one of those "COEXIST" bumper stickers? Well, Middle Earth is where you go.

As we were walking toward the remainder of places we were to visit this afternoon, we stumbled and picked our way through the remnants of the graduation ceremony. Stuck all over the ground were handicapped designations, presumably to signify the areas where people in wheelchairs and other mobility devices could comfortably sit. Our party found great enjoyment at collecting all of those stickers and re-purposing them. The things we most prized from the outing turned out, in the end, to be the only things we didn't pay for.

Also on the way, we encountered a well-lunged street preacher and his supporters. Not content to shower his word on the faceless mass of pedestrians, he actually called out to and verbally attacked specific people passing by. We tried our best to avoid any contact with his bilious band of proselytizers but were thwarted at nearly every turn. Later in the day it occurred to me to offer him some ice cream, the universal cure for every ill, but he and his friends were gone by the time I sought him out with a cone.

The second part of our day was spent on or around Liberty St. If you're like us and pee yourselves over Bauhaus picture vinyl or a drawer full of sea shanty albums, I would advise you to spend some time in Encore Records on Liberty St., just across the Quad from Pizza House, Pete's and Middle Earth. Encore Records gives you the opportunity to feel as though you are participating in an archaeological dig for your music with their tight, floor-to-ceiling aisles of every possible genre (I was serious about a drawer of sea shanties). Their staff is incredibly friendly and knowledgeable and might even share in your excitement at discovery.

While you're on Liberty, check out the Mural Alley and the Michigan Theater. The Mural Alley is an amazing, painted alley that frequently houses performers like Michael Jackson Guy who dances, as his name suggests, to Michael Jackson songs. Dance with him, it will make your spirit shine. The Michigan Theater is a restored 1920's theater that shows smaller Indie films.

We ended our day with a stop at a comic book shop on Main Street to feed our Dunny addiction. Remy is very into the artist Ashley Wood and I am a fan of Renee French's work so we took some time to track down copies we don't already have of their respective works and then finished off our trip with scoops from Stucchi's ice cream (2 locations).

I find that no trip is ever complete without public humiliation. Mine came as I was crossing a street and I put my foot down in a hole. My personal belongings strewn all over the intersection, I managed to escape without scuffed palms or knees. My final advice for a day trip to A2 is to watch where you are going or, at the very least, hope that your falls come without the large and captive audience I had today.
Pizza House website
Pinball Pete's info and reviews
Middle Earth
Behold the wonder of Encore Records
Liberty St. Alley
Michigan Theater
Vault of Midnight

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The best laid plans

I've had the week from hell. Between a completely manipulative, histrionic employee who flat out lied to me and then lacked enough integrity to own up to it, a hospital visit for severe chest pains, a participant who died from a crack overdose and Remy getting fired from his job, I am struggling to maintain a semblance of sanity. Mostly, I fear that our dreams of moving, of visiting Spain, and of owning a home will disintegrate into the ether from whence they were born.

How can we save with such a greatly reduced income? Should Remy look for work in New England so we can move or should he look for something here so we can keep saving? Should we buy a house here or buy one in Maine? Should we go ahead to Spain this Autumn or should we come to terms with the fact that we'll never be able to do the things we dream of doing?

I feel as though we rarely ever follow through on our dreams. We talk so big and live so small.

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