40 Years a Tigers Fan!

 

40 years as a Tigers fan! 

[2026 Marks 50 Years!]

Originally posted April 3, 2016

Kirk Harold Gibson. Chet Lemon in the background. At the Corner. This must have been in 1985. 

It was the summer of '76. The year of "the Bird." I didn't know much about baseball because I was only four years old but the way that Mark Fidrych took Michigan by storm, I couldn't help but notice. I lived in Clarkston, Mich., at the time and the Bird was the Word. It was an amazing year, for sure. One I wouldn't understand for many, many years, but I became a die–hard Tiger fan that summer. And I've been a Tigers fan forever.

I've seen great seasons (1984), bad seasons (1989), even worse seasons (2003). I've watched Tram and Lou, Gibby, Jack Morris, Willie Hernandez. I've seen Brandon Inge, David Wells, and Gibby's return. The Bird tried to comeback for several years and became a Red Sox. So many memories of the Tigers. Lance Parrish was a great Tiger and when he left for the Phillies it was a sad day; it turned out to be a bad move for everyone involved. Gibby left for the West Coast and LA glamour a year later, then Morris "went home" for a year and moved to Canada after that. As great as the '80s were for the Tigers, the '90s were a struggle as were the first five years of the 21st Century. The last decade has been solid.  

Cecil Fielder arrived in 1990: an import from Japan. And in that one summer, Cecil Fielder became THE MAN. The Big Daddy. His boy even played for the Tigers for a season, too. Many memories, some good, some bad, some great, some incredible. But it all goes back to the Spirit of '76. The year of Mark "The Bird" Fidrych. I don't remember Ralph Houk managing the Tigers, but I recall Les Moss, Sparky Anderson, Buddy Bell, Larry Parrish, Phil Garner, Luis Pujols, Alan Trammell, Jim Leyland, and Brad Ausmus.

I've been able to watch two future Hall of Famers for several years, Justin Verlander and Miguel Cabrera. During the baseball season, I am amazed every day that the greatest player plays for my favorite team. I've listened to great men announce the Tigers games, but no one has ever been better than Ernie Harwell.

Ernie Harwell. 

Annual rite of spring. 

I've gone to many Opening Days. Most, since the early '90s. I've gone to playoff games, World Series games. I've cheered for solid Tigers teams and the '03 team. The surprise of 2006 started with a trip to Kansas City to begin the season. And this year I'll be starting off in Miami. There is nothing like Opening Day in Detroit; it truly is a holiday. It's an amazing day. Every team has a chance at this point to go to the World Series. It's the beginning of six months of the greatest sport.

Open Day in KC, 2006. Lott, Thering, and Kreiner. 

The Corner of Michigan & Trumbull, 2008. 

I've watched the greatest baseball stadium be tore down for 10 years. I've sat through games in Comerica Park and never thought it had any tradition until 2006 when the Tigers somehow upset the Yankees, then the Athletics, and went to the World Series. Suddenly, the CoPa had tradition of its own. 

Just after the Tigers won the Division Series in 2006. 

It all started 40 years ago with Mark Fidrych. I wonder if I would have become a Tigers fan, or even a baseball fan, if Fid had stayed in the minor leagues all season …

Opening Day is all about friends and family. 

And you never know who will be an Opening Day hero. 

The Anatomy of a School Closing [From January 2014]

 The Anatomy of a School Closing [Originally posted in January 2014]

Decisions, decisions …

We haven't had a day of school since last Thursday. It's like a whole new winter vacation. The snow hasn't stopped but neither has the cold. It's a bit warmer today (just a dozen degrees below zero, according the wind chill) but the roads are impassable.

Monday and Tuesday were no brainers. Today, really, was a no brainer, as well. The reason it was a tough decision is that it would become the fourth day in a row with no school. Superintendents talk and share thoughts about many things. We have had many discussions this week about the weather. We watch the news and weather reports. We always try to err on the side of caution. The idea of safety is one we take seriously. 

After hearing from many students and teachers last night, I knew that the roads were in bad shape. I had driven some roads yesterday and knew that if the wind continued we would have some roads in bad shape. 

Panic Sets In

Lori woke me up at about 4:55 this morning and said, "Looks like we're having school." 

I said, "I guess so. What time is it?" 

She said, "Almost five." 

I had a moment of panic: "I better check my phone to see if I missed any calls."

Nope. 

As I sat my phone back down, it rang. 

Tim, my road checker, said it was bad. "Not a good morning in Buckley," he said. 

I called some other superintendents and texted some others. Everyone was hearing the same thing. Roads bad. Impassable at places. Windy. Cold. We went back and fourth and discussed the reasons for closing or staying open. We knew the right thing to do …

If we hadn't been closed for three days already — today would be a no brainer. 

So, we closed school for the fourth day in a row — six if you count the week–end! 

Be safe. Stay warm. 

What did we do before cable? [Originally posted 1.3.08]

What did we do before cable?

[This post originally appeared in January 2008]

It was Clarkston, Michigan, about 30 years ago. Channel 20 out of Detroit showed the best TV in syndication every afternoon. I would walk home from school and plop down in front of the television and watch Batman, Ultraman or Johnny Sacco and His Flying Robot, The Brady Bunch, Superman, Emergency, etc. I don't remember what else I would watch, but that was a good two hours of TV.

Later, great shows (at the time not yet in syndication) on prime time television included:

CHiPs
The Dukes of Hazzard
Hulk
Miami Vice
Family Ties
The Greatest American Hero

And on Sunday mornings when we would visit Grandma and Grandpa Morgan after we moved up to Kingsley: The Hardy Boys.

Great Saturday afternoon TV when you had to subscribe to The Sporting News, Baseball Digest, and read The Detroit Free Press, The Detroit News, and Traverse City Record–Eagle to keep up on the Tigers: TWIB.

And just for fun, you can drink a Pepsi Light.

Time flies. Fast. What's your favorite old TV show? Is it?

Originally posted on Rick's Writing Again on January 24, 2007

Billy Joel Live in Concert

Did I ever tell you about the Billy Joel concert at the Palace of Auburn Hills in November 1998?

We had two nosebleed tickets for the show. No one was opening for Billy ... he was headlining this tour by himself.

We left Vestaburg and headed down to the show on Nov. 18. I had recently purchased my first cellular telephone, so on the way down, I called Ticketmaster. I just wanted to see if there were any better tickets available.

"Hi! I'm wondering if you have any tickets available for tonight's Billy Joel concert?"

"Sir, that concert has been sold out for weeks. But I will check for you. Oh, oh. Uh-huh."

"I take it you may have found some tickets?"

"Yes, sir. I located some."

"Where would they be?"

"How does Row 1 sound?"

"Seriously, front row? For tonight!"

"Yes."

So, suddenly, we had four tickets to a sold-out show. In no certain order, I called everyone I could think of. No one was able to head to Auburn Hills on the spur of the moment to see Billy Joel. One person said, "Maybe." So, I put the tickets behind the little door that leads to the gas tank. No one took me up on the offer.

It was a great night. This guy, presumably a roadie, walked in front of us. So, outlandish me, "Hey, are you a roadie?"

"Well, buddy," he said. "Actually roadies don't like to be called roadies. They are crew members."

"So, ah, you're not a crew member, eh?"

"No, you see that microphone right over there? Yeah, that's where I'll be. Singing back-up."

We talked to Michael for about a half-hour. We talked about Billy Joel, life on the road, rock 'n' roll, and about anything else we thought of. He offered to take my tour program backstage and get it signed. Everyone in the band signed it. Billy signed the cover.

The show was great. Toward the end, they were jamming "Big Shot." From reading several interviews, articles, and books about Billy and his band over the years, I knew that Liberty DeVito, his drummer, could read lips. I mouthed, "Liberty, throw me a drum stick, dude!" He mouthed back, "You better catch it" and suddenly a "Big Shot" drum stick came flying my way. I caught it.

There is nothing like standing in the front row!

Tim Hortons Makes Coffee [Repost from 2014]

Tim Hortons Coffee

[This is a repost that originally appeared in 2014. I like the content of the blog and it contains one of my favorite photos. It's unedited, and while my opinion has mostly changed, it's a nice nostalgia dip.]

Woman Goin' Crazy on Caroline Street (March 2024)

In the spring of 2024, storms caused a change in Old Dominion's concert schedule in Key West. The band played an afternoon show on Sunday. One of the highlights was a cover of a classic by Jimmy Buffett. 

Woman Goin' Crazy on Caroline Street

Pearl Doggy: Grand Rapids Intermezzo

Pearl Doggy: Grant Rapids Intermezzo 

I originally wrote down my thoughts on this special show in January 1995. I wrote a draft about 20 years ago on this blog. I've been experimenting with AI, so I put this post into Google Gemini and asked it to write this in another writer's style. So, here goes ... 

January in Michigan. You get rain, you get ice, you get snow. You get anything. Today, it was rain, like Florida in July. But this was Grand Rapids. This was January. This was Pearl Doggy.

We stood in line, me and Don, John, Paul, and Marc. Four hours early. A thousand-seat club. Pearl Doggy"s first time. A rare thing.

"Major act, thousand-seat club," I said. "Doesn"t happen."

Don agreed. "Incredible."

The line grew. Pearl Doggy fans. Whatever that meant.

"Pearl Doggy rocks," Don said, Beavis-style.

"Cool," I said, Butt-head-style.

The class reunion came up. A weasel for a president. Don didn"t want to go. Neither did I. A deal.

A guy with a sign. "Hundred bucks." Tickets. I had an extra. Thought about it. Briefly.

A green mini-van. "That"s him!" I yelled.

Don, sarcastic. "Mellencamp, driving."

I left the line. Ten people followed. Back doors. Autograph.

"John, autograph?"

"What the **** is this?"

"Fan club thing."

He signed. Scrawled. Illegible. But signed.

Back to the line. The autograph. Showed it off.

"Wow. Mellencamp"s autograph."

They touched it. Like it was some relic. It wasn"t. Just a scribble.

"Can"t read it," I said. "He was in a hurry."

They didn"t care. They saw the name. Pearl Doggy. Grand Rapids. January. A brief intermezzo.

The Summer of '76 (The Bird Was the Word)

On Mark "The Bird" Fidrych

I remember being a youngster, not knowing much about baseball. It was the summer of 1976. I lived in Clarkston, Michigan, at that time. I was four years old. Mark "The Bird" Fidrych took the state of Michigan by storm. The summer of '76 was my initiation into baseball. The great rookie who single-handedly gave the Detroit Tigers respectability appeared everywhere.

The Oakland Press, one of the newspapers we used to get every day, had included iron ons of Mark Fidrych during the summer when he was taking everything by storm. I'm sure that my mom ironed on "The Bird" to a tee–shirt or three of mine.

Fidrych would fix up the mound between pitches. He would talk to the baseball and tell it where he wanted it to go. In his rookie season, he threw 24 complete games. In 19 seasons and 526 starts, former Tiger future Hall of Famer Justin Verlander has thrown 26 complete games — and nine of those were shutouts. 

The game has changed. The most complete games in a season for Verlander is six. The last guy with 20 complete games was Fernando Valenzuela (another rookie superstar in 1981, five years after the Bird) in 1986. Amazingly, Jim "Catfish" Hunter threw 30 complete games in 1975. But Fidrych was an incredible dude in that fabled summer. 

Down the road, even after he had faded from view, I grew my hair like his so it would fly out of my baseball cap. I thought it was so cool. Looking back, I can't even believe my dad would let me wear my hair like that. But it was for a good reason. In fourth and fifth grades, I had my school picture taken with my Tigers shirt and baseball hat on. I was a Tigers fan.

And it all started during the summer of "The Bird." 

A version of this was previously published on the blog. 

Please, Mr. Ford, FIRE MILLEN!

As we enjoy the "resurgence" of the Detroit Lions, I thought maybe we could go back 18 or so years and remember when times were, um, different (but typical). It's crazy to think of the insane turnover and chaos of this particular era of the Lions. 

There was a time before Millen that the greatest player in the game suddenly retired on the eve of training camp. Dysfunction was not exclusive to Mr. Millen. 

Many, many Lions fans have waiting a long, long time …

Baseball playoffs, circa 2006. Fire Millen! 

December 11, 2006

Please, Mr. Ford, FIRE MILLEN!

The following is a true and actual letter that I wrote to Mr. Marty Mornhinweg when Matt Millen, Lions general manager/team destroyer, held a press conference to say he was keeping him as his head coach. Never before had something like that happened! (Oh, yeah, and the Lions business address is listed below, so if you would like to send a letter to Mr. Millen, please do!

Vestaburg, Michigan 48891

January 2, 2003

The Detroit Lions, Inc.
C/O Mr. Marty Mornhinweg, Head Coach
222 Republic Drive
Allen Park, MI 48101

Dear Coach Mornhinweg:

Good luck next season. We Lions fans have faith that you will turn the team around. As a public school athletic director, I realize that whoever has the horses is going to win the race. You and your organization are working hard to bring some stallions to Ford Field.

Many of us longtime fans are used to disappointment and usually don’t even get our hopes up at all when a season begins. We are asking you to change this for us! We want to be excited when camp opens every year.

Many times players and coaches leave the Lions and become successful someplace else. Will you stay in Detroit and become successful there. I would prefer not to look at a team in seven years and say “Remember when Marty coached the Lions? We always knew he would be successful someplace!”

Best of luck next year and in the years to come. It’s a shame the team had to hold a press conference to say “Yeah, we’re bringing our coach back.” Heck, you’re in place, let’s let you develop your team and put it all together!

Thank you,
Rick Heitmeyer


Hey, the guy many times seemed clueless. He was the consolation prize when Millen couldn't hire Steve Mariucci after he fired Gary Moeller. Some of what I say (or all) in the letter is still consistent today (i.e. Artose Pinner, #3, etc.) and we are all looking forward to the day when training camp opens and we have, ah, hope. It reminds of when Randy Smith was the Tigers GM and basically destroyed that team by signing athletes instead of signing baseball players with good character. I'm not ripping the drafting of Matt Anderson, Jeff Weaver, Robert Fick, Eric Munson, or any of those guys. Oh, yes I am. I am a believer in signing talented players who have good character. A team with good character and leadership can handle one or two players with questionable character, but a young team (i.e. early 00's Tigers) with hoodlums ... yikes!

F. I. R. E. M. I. L. L. E. N. (or dude, just resign)

2016 Redux

The 2016 Edition of the Tigers Team Was Abrupt 

The amazing thing about the 2016 incarnation of the Detroit Tigers is just simply how terribly they could play at any given moment.

Cut, take two.

The amazing thing about the 2016 incarnation of the Detroit Tigers is just simply how incredibly they could play at any given moment.

I wrote about this eight years ago. 

I am re–writing about it again today.

Because it WAS the roller coaster effect.

Mr. Avila. 

August 4, 2015, the direction of the Detroit baseball franchise changed. Dave Dombrowski was out as the president and general manager and his longtime assistant Al Avila was now in charge. It's reported the Avila had it in his contract that he would be paid like a GM and could not interview with other teams for their GM openings. Suddenly after an awkward trade deadline scenario where we dealt players to teams with records similar to ours after saying we would be buyers, the Tigers were a much worse team not worth watching with a GM … with a son on the team. Not to mention a manager on the hot seat twisting in the wind.

I believe that Avila intended to fire Brad Ausmus but once one of his lieutenants leaked the information to the media, he had to backtrack and "keep" him. Into the 2016 season, in fact. Ausmus was out–managed many times and he also over–managed many times. The Washington Nationals hired a similarly under–qualified manager around the same time the Tigers hired Ausmus when they brought in Matt Williams. Realizing the team was talented but way underperforming, the Nats fired Williams and brought in a true manager, Dusty Baker. The Nats ended up as a good baseball team in 2016.

The change at the top with no–change in the middle manager seat probably caused much more than confusion in Tiger town. The constant rotation of players from Toledo to Detroit and back to Toledo got old — Buck Farmer up and down 19 times in those seasons. Okay, maybe that's part of the reason the Tigers cannot develop players. Constant injuries finally caught up to Anibal Sanchez; Sanchy as they call him. Remember how we questioned the signing of Mike Pelfry from the moment the ink hit the paper. He signed a two–year $16 million contract. Meanwhile, our old buddy Doug Fister (don't get a Tiger fan started on that deal with the Nats) signed a one–year deal with Houston for $7 million. The large contract for Justin Upton (basically the old Prince Fielder albatross of a contract) was lauded but with caution.

It's was a long season of ups and downs. The team looked amazing then amazingly terrible. And that's not to say that eventually Brad Ausums won't be a good manager — it just won't jell in Detroit.

Something Like Nostalgia

One night in the fall of 1990, while just a freshman at Central Michigan University listening to music, I remember a conversation with my roommate, Brian.  

It started out like this: "Funny, some day these songs are going to be 'oldies.'" 

Now, thirty–some years later, they're not oldies anymore, they're classics.

In September 1991, Guns 'n' Roses put out two albums in the same day, Use Your Illusion I and Use Your Illusion II. At the time, it seemed like the double disk drop was just a blip on GNR's radar screen. It wasn't until 17 years later that they put our a studio–recorded follow–up, Chinese Democracy. You still hear the first chords to "Sweet Child O' Mine," from GNR's huge commercial break–through, Appetite for Destruction, and you remember something you did back in '87. But, that album was on the shelves for about nine months before MTV broke "Welcome to the Jungle."

By no means did I set out to suggest that GNR is nostalgia. People recently paid close to a thousand dollars to go see Australian rockers ACDC in what is basically a tribute band. I remember seeing them in 1991 and thinking, "Wow, they're old for rock 'n' rollers." A whole new generation follows them now (and I think I was part of the second or third generation of ACDC fans ... )

Music makes us remember. Music sets the tone. I can remember where I was and what I was doing the first time I heard certain songs. The first time I heard "We Didn't Start the Fire" (a young 18 years old, or so — I was a Billy Joel fan ... have been since I was 6) I thought it was terrible. 

"Billy trying to rap," I said my friend Bru. 

Of course, the song grew on me. 

I used to buy music when it was brand new because I wanted to be the one to recommend a new hit or album, or artist.

Nostalgia. It's caused by music. 

Songs set the tone for so much of what we do. If you've ever sung along, and draped your arms around all the people in your row, to Billy Joel's "Piano Man," you can't help but think of that moment in Chicago in 1993 ... right? Or at the Palace in '90 . Music sets the moment.

It used to be ... back in '77 or so, when my parents would play Jimmy Buffett's album Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes that you knew they were having company. The party music morphed into constant music, though. But the song "Margaritaville" meant "good times." Oh, and Amy and Rick needed to stay downstairs ...

Nostalgia. Memories. Thinking back. How many times have we said, "We're making memories" ? 

That, my friends, is nostalgia.

Rock on ...

35-1/2 Hours In Key West '24

 THANK YOU 

35-1/2 Hours in Key West 

'24

“Squalls out on the gulf stream

Big storm comin' soon

Passed out in my hammock

God, I slept till way past noon

Stood up and tried to focus

I hoped I wouldn't have to move far

Sure could use a bloodymary

So I stumbled next door to the bar”

— JB, ‘74

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

At the counter, the nice lady from American Airlines said, “You can’t check bags to Miami, it’s closed.” I thought she was joking. She wasn’t. No Thanks! I thought. So we pulled out a few things to take, stuck them in a carry-on and I sprinted the luggage back to the car. And sprinted back. We headed to the gate.

Start the rhyme, readers: “We headed to the gate, but we were late. We were three minutes late to the gate.” No Thanks!

Back to the counter. This lady from American was truly a nice lady. Not that the other one wasn’t,  but she wasn’t. No possible way to get us all on one flight. But we could do this, do that, and possibly this. We didn’t want to lose the Air BnB or the rental car, so I was elected to jump on a flight to Key West, via Chicago and Miami. We weren’t sure what the others would do YET but I once again sprinted to the car and grabbed my luggage as I was like Lewis & Clark and heading ahead of the gang.

When I got back to Lori Heitmeyer, Steven Lott, and Tonya S Lott, and went to put stuff in my bag from the carry-on, we discovered that the blue bag was Lori’s and I would be taking her luggage with me. It would be okay because we would all reunite in a few hours at the latest.

I sat on the tarmac for quite a while (why be specific about time — we had nothing but time) and they de-iced the plane a couple times. And ran out of de-icer and had to reload. The timing had to be pretty precise to hit the flight from Chicago to Miami and even more precise from Miami to Key West.

And the plane to Chicago eventually left, and luckily the plane in Chicago to Miami was delayed about an hour. Otherwise … well, you know. But that didn’t do anything for the arrival time in Miami and the subsequent leave time also in Miami. We dropped down in Miami about 25 minutes before the flight would leave to head to Key West.

It certainly couldn’t take the 23 minutes from Gate D12 to Gate D60N, could it. Oh yeah it could. I ran, jogged, sprinted, walked fast and anything else I could think of to make it to the gate on time. As it turned to 2:16 I was at Gate 50 and knew it wasn’t happening, but just in case, I kept going.

I am 52. This was not the best workout for someone my age, but alas, I had work to do. I got into Gate 60 and it is probably the largest gate in airline history. I saw a sign that pointed to additional 60s and went through the door. Into a huge room with numbered D60 gates going all the was to 12. The room was packed.

PACKED. There was no Gate 60DN. Was I in the wrong place? Was I in the wrong city? Where was I? I ran over to a place where a dude seemed to have a little downtime and in between announcements, I interrupted him. I’m like:

“So I know I’m three minutes late and it’s not my fault. Is there any chance the plane hasn’t left yet. I’m going to Key West.”

“It’s probably gone, but I’ll check.”

Whew, back to a nice American worker. I don’t mean that the way it sounds, I mean American Airlines, just in case that wasn’t clear earlier.

Suddenly he turned and walked away.

“Sir, sir, you were helping me. Where are you going?”

Panic.

A nice lady says, “What’s wrong?”

Oh, don’t get me started …

“Well, he was helping me and just turned and left.”

She asked what I needed and I told her. She said that these other people she pointed at were trying to get on the same plane. Get in line with them and we’ll see what we can do. Nice American Airlines lady. The plane was indeed closed, but they opened it back up and we headed into Gate D60N territory.

Which then branches even more, but I was hoping to make it. The cool people from Pennsylvania who I was waiting with held the door about 60 yards ahead and waved for me to “Come on!”

Onto the plane, we lightened the load with some small talk and a couple jokes. These nice folks had been waiting an hour on the tarmac. Apparently, it wasn’t all our fault though because the pilot crew was stuck in customs. I assumed that they were already at Miami International. After another hour and some great conversation with our new friends, we were about ready to fly.

But what about Steven Lott, Tonya S Lott, and Lori Heitmeyer? Good question …

Well, friends, that’s a great question.

Lori was able to book a flight to Charlotte then Miami and I would drive up and pick her up from Miami International. That would be easy. I would land in Key West, grab the rental car, and head back north over the Overseas Highway. It would be dark, so I would have to watch for the Keys Deer when the time was right, but it would be all good.

Steve and Tonya would be going to Dallas, spending the night in the airport and flying out to Miami, then Key West in the morning. Easy peasy. The gang would be back together soon.

Lori sat on the plane in Grand Rapids and watched the plane get de–iced a couple times. She was waiting to take off for Charlotte when all the sudden she got a text that said the Charlotte to Miami flight was canceled.

She said, “I don't want to be stranded in Charlotte tonight. So somehow she was able to get off the plane and onto stand by with the other two who were with us, Steve and Tonya.

Remember, they were going to Dallas. I don’t know if Steve was thinking about the last time he had gone to Dallas, in December, the NFL robbed the Lions of a victory three times in five minutes that crazy December night. I know I was thinking about it.

So, the three of them were able to leave Grand Rapids and head to Dallas. They had been in Grand Rapids all day while I had been flying. I suppose my luggage was still on a plane that was headed to Charlotte and Miami. At least I have a pair of shorts and a shirt.

I’m wearing sandals next time I fly to Florida.

It’s Friday evening, March 22, 2024. So, Steve, Tonya, and Lori are all either on their way to Dallas by now, or there. I’m not sure. I have checked into the place at Mills Place  and picked the rental car and I’m just watching the weather turn ugly. I didn’t know it rained like this in Key West in March. I went to Five Guys and got a gut bomb, but that ends up being a story itself. Pro tip, after a stressful day of flying, do not add grease.

The other travelers sort of sleep in the Dallas airport and Steve and Tonya head to Miami on Saturday morning. Lori did not make the stand-by flight this time, but she was first stand-by on a direct flight from Dallas (that’s where she was, afterall) to Key West, leaving at 8:30 a.m. There were “for sure” seats on another direct flight, but …

Ah, hell, that 8:30 flight was delayed to 12:20, so the other, new, different Texas American Airlines lady said, “Let’s get you on this flight.” So, Lori is supposed to fly at 12:30 directly to …

Ah, Thank You for this new announcement: nine minutes before Steve and Tonya are ready to fly to Key West, the flight gets canceled. Not delayed. Not postponed. Canceled. Thank You very much. No rental cars available — but possibly a later flight.

At least we have nothing but time at this point.

We are now 36 hours into the trip and we still haven’t been to Irish Kevins …