Having partied pretty steadily since our wedding in June, Nancy and I were slowly realizing that it was time to ease up on the gas and find a more sustainable cruising speed. Not that the partying was over. Let's be clear about that. But our thoughts were turning to more domestic issues. And as our first holidays together were upon us, it seemed a good time to figure things out for the long term.
Thanksgiving was on the horizon. It was to set the tone for the duality that faces many new couples - how do we give proper holiday attention to both sides of the family? I say new couples because as one's family grows with the addition of children, there comes a time when the burden of travel for holidays shifts. But in the beginning, it's on you.
For us Thanksgiving is the least problematic version of this dilemma, as we had four days to work with (as long as we blew off work on Friday, which we always did). And one or two-day old turkey and fixings are nearly as good as the original, with considerably less work. So as long as we fit everybody in over the long weekend, we avoided trouble.
We had one other circumstance that impacted our approach to this first Thanksgiving, and as it turned out for several years thereafter. At the time, son Ted lived with his mother 120 miles from us but only a few miles from my parents in Linwood (just north of Bay City). So it was reasonable to all that we should have Thanksgiving dinner with the LeRoy side of the family, who were local, then head north on Friday for a leisurely weekend with Ted and my folks. And that's what we did.
We were pretty busy learning about each other's families and finding our niche, but we did manage a few pics that weekend. Here are some from the Thanksgiving Day gathering at Nancy's brother Dave's place. In this first one I am assisting Nancy's mother Marge with some table setting tasks, like a good new son-in-law. Little Brian is auditing our technique.
Likewise, here's one of Nancy working on the stuffing. Unlike me, she was permitted to actually interact with the food.
And then we have this classic. Nancy's dad Rae in his holiday raiment, sharing a post-dinner moment with grandson Brian, who in the spirit of the holiday is sharing in Rae's holiday raiment.
And one of my favorite pics from the early days. My parents enjoying their visit with Ted.
Moving into December, Nancy and I were preparing for our first Christmas together. We found that our respective customs were pretty similar, so blending them came pretty naturally. The early days of the month were busy with identifying gift ideas, shopping (old school - at the mall), wrapping presents and assembling toys. There weren't many pics of these preliminaries, but I did find this one of a scruffy Santa's helper putting together an HO gauge electric train.
However, there were plenty of pictures of the various celebrations. First, a few days before Christmas we stopped by my sister Wendy's house in Flushing. The cousins exchanged gifts and had their usual good time. In this first pic we have Nancy with niece Melanie.
Ted, of course, was in fine form.
And nephew Tristan.
Finally sister Wendy with her eldest, Jennifer.
In later years, these cousins drifted apart and really didn't see each other that much. But at the outset, they were pretty tight.
Next was Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at our little house in Harper Woods. At the time, we had the "one gift on Christmas Eve" rule. Here's a shot of Ted dressed for dinner, taking advantage of that rule.
Nancy's folks came by for Christmas Eve cocktails and dinner. Here's a shot of the guests with the Burk boys. At the left that's actually, me. Not Francis Ford Coppola.
Christmas morning was more relaxed. The dress code was less formal as shown in these pics of Ted and the old man. It appears that I may have been slightly overcome by fumes from an overheated electric train transformer.
By late morning we had recovered enough to tidy up and head over to Nancy's folks' for Christmas Day Part 2. Here Nancy and Ted are ready to depart.
Grandpa Rae with a wide-eyed Ted taking it all in.
Nancy on the phone, most likely with the Canadian cousins for their traditional Christmas greeting.
And a shot of little Brian and Ted spending another family event together.
Early in 1981 there was another celebration. Nancy's dad Rae decided to retire from his career in sales. It was a grand affair held at Marge and Rae's house. It was well attended by Rae's lifelong friends and close relatives including a large contingent of Canadians. Here's a pic of Rae in his retirement glory, enjoying the spotlight for the evening.
Yes, that's a jigsaw puzzle of a double cheeseburger. Obviously, we spared no expense for the celebration. I don't know if Rae ever put this puzzle together. But I can tell you he liked a good cheeseburger (the puzzle has survived in the family to this day; for those who like a challenge, it's in residence at Wiser Times).
February of 1981 turned out to be a unique month in my life. It was the one and only time I have ever worn skis. I'm not sure who had the original idea for a cross country ski trip. It might have been me, as I like social gatherings. But this turned out to be a little more social than expected.
First, we were a group of five couples. We rented a two bedroom cabin in the Traverse City area. The math should have triggered the thought that more space would have been nice. But we were young (at least youngish), and excited about getting out of town with friends. Included in the group were our work friends Bob and Patty and Dick and Mary, along with two old friends of mine and their brides, Jeff and Helen and Jim and Ruby. I might add that only a couple of our group had ever been cross country skiing. We all thought it looked pretty easy. Yeah. Here's a group shot of us properly shod and making our way to our first run. We look like we know what we are doing.
Some of us managed to keep our dignity through the first day, like Dick (our boss at the time),
and Jim (my oldest friend),
his bride Ruby (shown here refreshing her antifreeze),
and Jeff (another old friend from college days) and his bride Helen.
Nancy and I also looked the part as we posed for this shot. Sort of my Jean-Claude Killy look.
A few of our entourage had some difficulty, as it turns out even cross country skiing runs have frequent turns, small but challenging hills and inconveniently placed trees. For the most part we spared these tormented souls from embarrassing photos. But not entirely. Here's one of Patti after an unfortunate tumble, considering if she should get back up or just call for a cab (this of course was pre-Uber).
And in the spirit of full disclosure, one less-than-graceful fellow spent much of the weekend in this position, here taken out by a mighty pine tree he couldn't avoid. More like Peewee Herman than Jean-Claude. I meant to do that.
Back at the cabin we relaxed, salved our bruises and recovered from our battle with nature. The common room of the cabin was just large enough for us to gather around and share the day's adventures. Here a few of us are celebrating our Nordic prowess over an upscale repast. Well, upscale for in the middle of nowhere.
In this shot Ruby and Nancy have just realized that this was only day one and that we had to do it all over again tomorrow.
And here Nancy is inventorying our medical supplies to see if we have enough to get me through the second day.
Finally, after tidying up from our lavish cocktail hour and dinner we converted our cabin "great room" into sleeping quarters for six. I can't remember who drew the long straws and won use of the two bedrooms, but it wasn't Nancy and me. So with sleeping bags laid out wall to wall, with a narrow path carved out to the one bathroom, we all crashed for the night.
Despite the close quarters, we all awoke the next morning fresh as daisies, ready for another day. As depicted in this shot of me at dawn's early light. What, me worry?
We made it through this survivor-like weekend and eventually arrived back home to our little bungalow in Harper Woods. We were quite happy to get back to our daily groove of work we enjoyed, lunches at our favorite spots, after-work happy hours and dinners with friends, and relaxing evenings at home with our little puppy Heidi.
But before the winter was out, we were to have one more up north adventure. That was our first trip to the little town of Indian River.
Through the years the Indian River area has played a big part in our lives. Currently, the Kuhlman branch of the family has a comfortable cottage on Burt Lake, just north of Indian River. Daughter Cathy and her family visit Matt's parents Kit and Paul for fun weekends at the cottage as often as they can, building happy memories.
But earlier, in the 80s and 90s, Indian River was the main getaway destination for my parents, Wendell and Dolores. About every third weekend during those years my parents would pack up their party clothes and their little lap dog and drive the two hours and 30 minutes to Indian River. They had a couple of motels they would frequent, most often The Northerner.
There were three bars/night spots at that time on what I would call "the Indian River strip". They were Vivio's, Mor Joi's and the Indian River Inn. Once there and freshened up, my parents for two days would cruise from one of these places back and forth to the other two, pausing only to check on the dog, clear their heads with a little fresh air, and when absolutely necessary get a little shuteye.
The hook for my parents was that they knew several people from the Bay City area (where they had lived their whole adult lives) who either had cottages in Indian River or had retired and moved there. The bartender at Vivio's included. So the weekend was really a marathon reunion with old friends. Those trips to Indian River were the centerpiece of my parents' social life for years. And they loved it.
Still sorting out our groove, Nancy and I thought we should get into the swing of things with Wendell and Dolores. So in March 1981 we headed up north with them for the first time. My sister Wendy and her husband Dick came along. It was a lot of fun, but we quickly learned that we were out of our league.
They ran us ragged. About 10:00 pm each night we were ready for the sack, but we couldn't drag them back to the motel until after midnight. They seemed to get stronger as the night went on, as did their "old" party crowd. We would make future trips up north with my folks, but I always remembered this one as the time I learned I was a wimp. Here are the few pics from that trip that have survived. I was a little groggy each morning from running with a fast crowd, but managed to pull out the camera every once in a while. First, a shot of the ladies - sister Wendy, Nancy and my mother.
Wendy's husband Dick.
And my dad strolling around a piece of land he owned just outside of town and hoped one day to build on. I guess the motel bills could be a nuisance.
Dad had this land for years, first planning to put a small house trailer on it, then maybe a cabin. But before he could realize those plans, he and mom ended up buying a place in Florida instead. But he loved to dream about it. Here's a couple more shots. the first of him explaining the glory of the outdoors to a fascinated Dick.
In this one he is sizing up the work that would be needed to restore the little trailer that had come with the land purchase.
You'll see that trailer again as dad eventually towed it to his yard in Linwood for repairs, where it lingered for years. As noted, it never went into full service. But my dad had hours of enjoyment tinkering with it and making plans.
For a break from the "strip" establishments, what did we do? We went to another bar, of course. This one a little off the main drag but just as friendly and welcoming.
I always liked this pic of Wendy. It sort of captured her personality. That of living in the moment. She spent much of her working life managing bars and restaurants of various kinds, and knew her way around a shuffleboard table.
We made it through the weekend up north (again) and arrived back in Harper Woods safe and sound where we resumed our newly fashioned lifestyle. This seems like a good place to close out this episode and go to press. I'll pick it up next time with April 1981, and some very big news.
Grosse Pointe Charles
