Old

 As I was driving around West Michigan today, I got thinking about old - the concept of old, the abstract idea of the good ol' days, the stories and experiences of those who came before us, and just how the hell we all got here.  Hemingway said “Every man has two deaths, when he is buried in the ground and the last time someone says his name,” and when I consider my own path here, and the reasons why I made this blog, I want to uphold that idea as best as I can.

Part of what draws me to thrift stores and antique stores is wondering about the stories of the items around me...part of why I did the $50 Thrift Store Golf Challenges was to take something I enjoy (golfing) and explore the experience of using old clubs that I'd find.  Let me tell ya, you really gain an appreciation for modern metallurgy and computer design after playing with some of those old stinkers...yet, those are the clubs I learned on back in the day at Rolling Hills Golf Course in Hudsonville; those are the clubs that my dad and uncles played with in leagues during the 1980s.  Those clubs are a tangible window into the past.

The same goes for vinyl records - most thriftos have 'em for a buck or less, which is cheaper than a Spotify subscription, and is another tangible way to reach into the past.  I use Cocaine & Rhinestones and the albums they cite as a shopping list when I'm searching for old records.  The 2006 Hipster in me wants to boast about infinite sample rates and the feel of a vinyl record, which are both cool, but in listening to C&R and learning the history of the music I grew up listening to, there it is again, that blasted tangible window into the past.

As mentioned, all of this was swirling around my head as I was driving down I-196 this afternoon.  That interstate route roughly follows one of the interurban routes from Grand Rapids to Saugatuck (Shackhuddle was a stop along the way, and interstate basically demolished the town), and as the highway goes south crossing the Allegan County line, there's a little cemetery off to the side - the East Holland Cemetery.  My mind wandered to thinking about Saugatuck Dunes, then to Sleeping Bear Dunes, and the thoughts in my head as I wander through the sand:  Can you imagine being the first white person to see this?  Obviously, the indigenous persons had lived there for millennia, but this was something new for the European colonists.  But, I wondered about the people - the people buried in the cemeteries at Shackhuddle and East Holland, all the millions of souls that drove past the two without so much as a second thought, the hard-working men and women who built the interstate, who dedicated their lives to preserving the Saugatuck Dunes...

Further south in Niles, the Old Tavern Inn is recognized by the State of Michigan as being the oldest restaurant in the state.  Early on in my blogging experience, I made the trip and got a meal there.  As pointed out here, it's hard to find...I wound up going into the State's archives.  The Old Tavern Inn isn't even listed on listicles like these.  But, there's a handmade history book at Old Tavern Inn (another low-key inspiration for this very blog) about the history of the restaurant, the convenient stop on the old roads between Chicago and Detroit, and their signature ham and cheese sandwich (largely unchanged for almost 200 years, holy smokes)...and again, my mind wandered to all the souls who had dined there over the years, let alone made something of a pilgrimage there like I had.

We all exist in this world, a collection of millions of moments and happenings...billions of moments and happenings from our forefathers and ancestors.  I'd love to continue to reach out and consider those who came before me by tangible windows to the past.