disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life

Sunday, June 17, 2012

The Midwest

So we got here, alive. Most of Illinois is flat. My mo masked, like Missouri flat,cause that was flat. No mom. Flat flat. Flat like you cannot believe,and corn as far as the eye can see. Its odd to think, 60 miles around, is corn, all corporate owned, that is, not nature or a small farm or a walmart but all con agra or whatever. To reitterate, it is flat. I had to laugh at the "mountainous" Missouri Ozarks, coming from a place with 12,000 foot tall mountains, living at 5,000 feet with the city 4,000 feet below me. In fact, my blog will have photos at some point and it shows the mighty Ozarks. As we rounded the bend past St Louis into Illinois, those mighty Ozarks made sense. Its weird once you pass Oklahoma, you can be on the freeway through a large town or city and not know it. The roads are lined by trees, and often a clearing just peeks in on a meadow or something, not buildings. Unlike out West where inches from the offramp are gas stations and condos, here the things are tucked away or spread out. We drove through East Chicago/Gary area and there literally is "the other side of the tracks"...nice little Granmda Moses neighborhoods next to something that looks like DC or the Bronx projects housing. But actually, less graffitti than San Bernardino! What Ifind beautiful, that I saw i nOklahoma City and especially this area, is the ghost towns where in the middle of a city, an entire block will be completely abandoned, shuttered, desolate. I have a new love of photography of these buildings, but usuallythey are in areas where stopping for photos just is not safe so I get crappy not artsy shots from the car as we drive by. But it almost reminds me of photos of right after the Civil War,Reconstruction, or of WWI,WWII, the San Fran earthquake....shattered windows, cardboard over doors, crumbled bricks, holes in walls, multiple colors, layersl texture of a building showing its many personas over time. I saw an old steel mill, a huge building that was nearly the size of a Vegas casino, rusting and crumbling, weeds invading, windows shattered, with smoke from working factories rising behind it. A rotting wooden and rusting metal roler coster reminiscent train track into a molding tunnel. Factory housing with yet again shatgered glass and boarded doors, with life, new projects., peeking from behind. A huge oil plant that looked so mechanical, like a gianf erextor set, the harshness of metal and industry and pollution, rust, shining metal, ligjts, pumps, smoke, like a giant insect like alien beast resting in place ,chugging and snoring away, so un natural against the green marsh and blue giant lake.



some cheesy place with giant things, in Illinois. I like giant
roadside cheesiness!
 Anyways today we went up to Michigah. My son has been to 11 states and isnt even two years old. The lake always impresses me ,and since I have a weird fear of waves, the generally gentle lapping waves make me happy. Some people can say theywent to the beach ic they walk on the sand or pier or eat lunch down the street. But me, I have to touch the water. Michigan and its great lake are pure Americana, victorian and crafstam homes with flower window boxes and American flags look towards the beach. A family atmosphere abounds, where the great outdoors are enjoyed (since a 5 degree winter day there is n ofun) and there are carousels, candy stores, playgrounds, kites, beach bums, sail boats. Unlike my home state's beaches where it is commercialiam and cement and private crowded homes until an inch before the trucked in beach sand, here there are dunes covered in natural grass, deciduous trees for shade ,a wide naturally sandy beach, and open space, and nature space, with just some homes and stores. The beaches are for everyone to enjoy the nature of the beach, not for rich people to hog the view and tourists to buy starbucks and touch their toe into the thin strip of trucked in foreign sand.
enjoying the miles of sand

I keep calling it an ocean. But its pretty


pretty little town

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