30 July 2008

Lake House



It doesn’t look like much, but this house is the origin of a lot of good childhood memories. I learned how to jet ski on the lake this house sits on, and I’m talking about a real jet ski, not one of those sissy sit down wave runners that you see people zipping along on with no chance of falling off. We rode it one handed, no handed, backwards and even tried our best to submerge it. Despite running over our friends (and sometimes ourselves) no one was ever seriously hurt (a miracle in itself).

I rode my first tandem bike on the various back roads behind this house. We would pedal the heavy beast through the hilly and twisty tree lined streets that rarely had any traffic on them, starkly contrasting the busy boulevards of Detroit’s suburbs. Some of us would ride it down the hills from the back seat position, a feat that has not been replicated to this day (mainly because along with getting older, we have all gained an allergic reaction to unnecesaary pain).

It was near this house that I conquered “crazy hill” on both a sled and a mountain bike. The mountain is just the remnants of an abandoned ski slope that I never saw operate in all the years I visited there and we spent hours exploring the woods and trails nearby.

I did my first roofing job on this house. It doesn't look like much from the picture, but this house was as large as a castle with multiple rooms and passage-ways. And just like a castle, it needed a lot of regular repairs to keep her maintained, which we were all more than happy to do (as long as we got to take the jet skis out when it was too hot to shovel shingles).

I took my first sunset pictures on the dock near this house which woke up some internal primal need to purchase lots of camera equipment (although some would argue that the need is part of my genetic makeup).

The house represented freedom from the dangers of growing up in a big city and freedom from responsibilities of school work or a crappy minimum wage job which is why I am drawn to it now that I am older and saddled with the yoke of adulthood. What a better place to reunite with childhood friends and reminisce about the antics and mischief that made being a kid so much fun?

Being grown up sucks.

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