Memory Lane - The Cycle Renews (January to June 1989)

With the passing of the 1988 holiday season, the 1989 version of our family cycle began. We plodded through the winter months in the usual way, spending most of our time and energy maintaining our household and meeting work and school obligations. Nancy and I were both working downtown Detroit but commuting separately in order to cover parenting duties. Nancy was usually on the 7:00 to 3:30 shift, with after-school child care. I worked 9:00 to 5:30 after getting the kids off to school. 

There were plusses and minuses for both of us in this arrangement. Being both an early riser and one of those people who always wakes up energized, the early shift suited Nancy quite well. She also preferred to get home early enough to tend to those domestic duties on her side of the ledger. On the other hand being a more even-paced individual who prefers to ease into each day's adventure, the late shift was perfect for me.

As you may expect there were occasional speed bumps. For Nancy, they were usually about homework stresses and school-weary kids demanding attention. For me it was striving to get the kids acceptably attired, fed and to class before the bell rang. It can be trickier than you think. Little girls' knit shirts and pajama tops look a lot alike (yes, there's a story there).

Occasionally, we would grow weary of our respective assignments and fall into the delusion that the other person's role was easier. That would lead to exchanging duties for a time. These swap-outs never lasted very long because we would soon realize that with our natural preferences we were better off the way we'd been. But our little switching experiments served to preserve our appreciation for each other's contributions.

There were those moments over the winter months when we broke out of our routine for a little fun. One of those was a visit downtown to the Detroit auto show. The show was a big deal in those days, running for a week in Cobo Hall. You could see, touch and even sit in most of the cars on display (but not the Bentley or the Silver Cloud, of course). 

At its peak in the early 2000s the show drew over 800,000 people. In the snow-covered middle of January it offered a cavernous display hall where you could take a long walk in comfort. The cars were fun, too. Here's a shot of myself, Nancy's dad Rae and my son Ted from our outing to the show of 1989. There were times when the girls came along, but this year it was a boys-only affair.

Note how we each are sharply dressed in the fashion of our respective generations. I guess dapper doesn't mean what it used to. 

Despite the winter weather there were times when one just had to tend to business. Like shopping.

Note the fur and the heels. Talk about dapper.

There were also new friends to meet.

And car trips.

The driver of this classic (Nancy's old Buick) appreciated that dad always kept the highway cleared of snow. 

As winter morphed into spring the pace picked up. There were Easter dresses.

A new family member. That's Checkers peeking out from his exercise wheel, not yet too sure about his new surroundings.

And outdoor time without snow pants. Here's a shot of Ted and sisters Jamie, Christy and Cathy on our back deck enjoying the spring air.

There was even a brief visit to Florida to visit my grandmother Katy. Here she is posing with the great grandchildren on her sun porch glider.

Cathy thought it was "bad-face" photo. Poor communication. My bad.

In May we continued our roving ways with a train trip to visit our Canadian cousins in Mississauga, Ontario. In their youth Nancy and her first cousins Lynne and Ann were (and remain) very close. On one occasion in her early teens Nancy took the train on her own to visit them. She loved the trip, and wanted to give our girls a similar experience. Here are a few pics.

The girls were excited but a little apprehensive about climbing aboard a vehicle larger than their house.

The three-hour train ride went smoothly, after we all adjusted to the subtle but constant sway of the tracks (it was my first long train ride, too). We were greeted by cousin Lynne at the station and whisked away to a gathering of the Canadian relatives for our usual reunion celebration. The weekend was a memorable three-generations affair.

During the visit our hosts treated us to a car ride through a nearby zoological park. Here the kids (Andrew, Heather, Cathy and Christine) are crammed into the back seat for the show.

It's always fun to see wild animals, especially up close. We enjoyed the usual zoo offerings and had a couple of closer-than-expected encounters. The first was this little fellow who climbed aboard and sat on the hood for awhile. 

Apparently, we were not entertaining enough for our new friend so he moved on and attempted to enter the vehicle ahead of us through the front passenger side window. 

The assailant eventually gave up and scampered away. The kids were disappointed. I think they were rooting for the monkey. 

A short time later we ran into these bad boys.

We caught the eye of one gang member who thought we looked like an easy mark for a snack.

But we held firm. Again, much to the chagrin of the backseat crew.

Having survived the jungle tour without mishap, we headed back to base camp for some R&R. For the adults, it was an especially enjoyable happy hour during which we reveled in our great adventure. For the kids, it was a little time on the playscape.

And some well-deserved chair-sharing time. Can't do that on Zoom.

The visit having run its course, the next morning our hosts dropped us back at the train station for the trip home. 

It was another excellent chapter in our family's long international tradition.

Another chapter that was playing out in 1989 was what I call the great Federal child care experiment. One of my collateral duties at work at that time was representing the Detroit IRS Office on the local Federal Executive Board (FEB). The FEB was a vehicle for coordinating business and charitable activities among the Federal agencies in the Detroit metropolitan area. One of the Board's pet projects was establishing a child care service for employees in the local Federal building. I was one of a handful of FEB members who agreed to oversee the operation.

The experiment ran its course over the next few years. It had some successes but faced several obstacles that in the long run could not be overcome. Eventually the FEB-managed child care center was closed and a private company brought in to run the program.  

I've dragged you through this little tale of woe to explain this next picture. The convenience of the Federal child care center was too great for us to pass up, so we enrolled Cathy. She was three at the time. 

One of the many activities the caregivers provided for their charges was the occasional venture out into the city. These field trips were well-organized and supervised and provided a little exercise and fresh air for the kids. Sometimes they included a ride on the Detroit people mover, an elevated train that operates on a closed-circuit track around downtown. The kids always loved the rides. The picture below is of Cathy and three of her child care buddies forming up for such an outing.  

In addition to the obvious benefits for us of having on-site child care, we felt that exposure to the more diverse environment of the Federal child care center would broaden Cathy's horizons. We think it did. 

As the school year came to a close at the end of May, we were looking forward to our favorite summer activities. Our first was a weekend visit to Linwood to see my parents. Here's a shot of the girls with my dad Wendell, hanging out on the back deck.

And one of my brother Jeff and son Ted engaged in a "friendly" game of cribbage.

Cribbage has always been a popular pastime in our family, played by just about everyone. I think between our house and the cottage we have almost a dozen cribbage boards of varying shape and design, from a folding travel set about eight inches long to a jumbo model about three feet long with three-inch pegs.

 

We even have a cribbage-golf game where you peg around 18 holes, trying to avoid various hazards (in which you lose points) while you playout your cards - clever. 

The curious thing is that we keep playing cribbage at all. I can't remember a single game when someone wasn't accused of cheating (mostly in jest). Something to do with moving pegs in and out of someone else's row, or trying to squeeze a 15-2 out of an all-even hand (you cribbage players will understand). I'm looking forward to playing more cribbage with my grandkids in a couple of weeks during our leaf-burning weekend at the cottage. To paraphrase The Dude, I'm teaching them "the ins, the outs and what-have-yous" of a winning strategy.

The balance of June unfolded according to our well-established ways. We had our first look of the year at the cottage at Ipperwash Beach and again managed to wangle an invitation to the preliminaries of the Detroit Grand Prix. I found a few choice pics to share.

This one of Christine and Cathy idling along the water's edge at Ipperwash on an overcast day is a favorite. I've had a blowup of it hanging on our upstairs wall for many years. I go by it several times a day and never fail to glance at it. It captures a simple pleasure. 

This second shot of the girls is also a classic. 

In 1993 Nancy's brother built a 12' x 12' deck over the seawall that provides a 180-degree view of the beach and the lake. Prior to that, these steps down to the beach were the only option. Chilling there was a regular thing for whoever could get there first. Occasionally, Dad pulled rank.

The Grand Prix outing was pretty much the same as in previous years. Free food and drink, plenty of sunshine, a great view of the riverfront, and lotsa these guys making lotsa noise.

The girls loved it. Here they are sporting their matching Grand Prix outfits.

Nancy and I enjoyed it, too. There's nothing better than the deafening roar of Formula 1 engines and the smell of high octane gasoline to heighten one's senses. Here's a shot of Nancy and I sharing a "quiet" moment within the chaos with our very good friend Bruce C.

This brings us halfway through 1989, and a good place to end this post. It's snowing outside as I write this (ugh), so I'm looking forward to getting out of here mentally and slipping into the summer of '89 - the next leg on my Memory Lane journey. 

Until then,

Grosse Pointe Charles