2006-08-20 - 9:47 a.m.
This happened a couple weeks ago at the beginning of August, but I figured I should recount it here. See, Nya and I went to Kalamazoo and that�s just fun to say. Kalamazoo rhymes with a lot of words, so a lot of songs are written about it (or at least more than you�d expect to be written about a town of only 77,000). Although the expression �out in Kalamazoo� is sometimes used to evoke a place far away in the middle of nowhere, Kalamazoo, MI, is actually only about 150 miles from Chicago.
Although Nya has an aunt who lives there, she was apparently out of town. (I hope she went somewhere cool; she also has MS and the brutal heat wave the Midwest was going through at the time could have seriously exacerbated symptoms.) But I have a friend who was working in Kalamazoo for the summer after his first year in law school, at an organization that defends the rights of migrant farm workers. So we used seeing him as an excuse to visit, because really how often do you get a chance to go to Kalamazoo?
We took the Amtrak train there. The route goes around the south of Lake Michigan, across the entirety of Indiana. It was quite a beautiful trip. A lot of sun-dappled grass and fields of corn and ancient tractors just sitting around. I felt like we should be eating apples and turkey to go along with the view. At one point Nya pointed out the window at the scenery. �Look out there. It�s �Mer�ca.�(Like, I think that�s where George W. Bush is from. Actually now that I think about it, that�s just his PR machine. W�s really from Mars, I�m from America.)
When we got in, we went directly to the Kalamazoo Institute of Arts. It was incredibly hot out, so when I got out of our cab at the museum, I immediately did a face plant. A museum administrator rushed over in concern, but I reassured him I had just bruised my ego. Then he asked if we�d come for the ArtBreak. Neither of us knew what he meant, but it seemed to be an indoor event and it was air conditioned inside. So we shook our heads in agreement and he ushered us into a big lecture hall.
It turned out ArtBreak is a weekly series where artists on display came in and talked about their work. The first guy made paintings with a poem as text inside, inspired by Japanese art. Unfortunately the slides of his work weren�t very big and my vision is slightly off, so I couldn�t read his poems. He also painted a lot on plastic mats made from melting down old bottles. While the sentiment in this is commendable, it doesn�t seem like a very effective way of recycling�
The second presenter was a local girl, who�s now a sophomore at the Art Institute of Chicago. I felt bad for her because her Powerpoint didn�t project, but she pulled off a good presentation on the fly. She talked about her development as an artist, progressing through early representational works into her current focus on the Armenian genocide. We ran into her that night at dinner and complemented her improvisational skill. Her boyfriend said �Hey wow, you�re a celebrity!� Nya agreed and asked if she would sign her breast. (She blushed and demurred.)
We went to dinner that night at FoodDance, the �best restaurant in Kalamazoo�. Of course, �best� in a small town does not necessarily mean �expensive�. Dinner for the four of us (myself, Nya, my friend, and his girlfriend) with drinks came to under $100. Nya and I shared the seafood pasta and a goat cheese pizza. I had a Bell�s Beer, the local brew. It was quite good. I felt too hot for dessert but my friend�s girlfriend placed an amusingly picky order, asking the kitchen to combine brownies and gelato. It was kind of When Harry Met Sally.
Our hotel was, well, a little colorful. �Cracked-out� might be a better way to put it. It was centrally located, real cheap when I booked online, and I had no idea it was the local hourly-rent place. For true atmosphere, you could get chicken-and-dumplings in the vending machine. Whatever. We didn�t consort with the neighbors and just stayed in our room, which at least was perfectly clean and blissfully air-conditioned. In fact, the next day it was 104 degrees out and we didn�t leave until evening.
We met my friend and his girlfriend at a nearby tavern. I think it was called �Irish�. It had a restaurant upstairs called, I think, �Italian�. Actually, once you got inside, they didn�t lay it on too thick and anyway my years in Boston got me used to that. They had a raspberry beer that was surprisingly good, although a little sweet to have too many of. Fortunately, being a lightweight these days, I simply can�t have too many. We also got a shot called the �Red-Headed Bar Slut�, which was raspberry vodka backed by raspberry beer.
Once again, it was too hot to eat much. Nya and I split Vietnamese lettuce wraps, which I managed to spill all over. Once again, my friend�s girlfriend placed an amusingly complicated order. I think it was for like manicotti with the cheese on the side and the sauce in its own bowl. I don�t mean to be harsh; she was really very nice and her orders were quite amusing. We even went back to her downtown loft afterwards, where she smoked me up. On the way a tremendous storm broke out, dropping a much-needed soak in the oppressive heat.
The next day, we went to a barbecued ribs festival. Although, Nya pointed out it was just described as a �ribs festival�. Nonetheless, despite my Yankee roots, I�m a big partisan of real barbecue. We gave a letter grade to each of the ribs we tried (there were like six or eight different vendors) and I took big points off for ribs that were just broiled and not truly barbecued. (Sadly the �Chicago Rib Company� fell into this category, despite having a promising name.) �Desperado�s Ribs� was the clear winner.
Nya broke her vegetarianism for the ribs fest and wants me to issue a blanket apology to all pigs for eating them. Sorry, pigs. If it�s any comfort, you were quite tasty. After the ribs fest we went to a local minor-league baseball game, cause that�s the kind of red-blooded �Mer�cans we are. The Kalamazoo Kings took on the Gateway Grizzlies. This may be a vicious, bitter rivalry, but I guess you�d have to be a bigger follower of single-A ball to really know. Small-ball is truly �family entertainment� and there were many little kids there, a surprising number of whom were just riveted by my wheelchair.
The next day, we had to take the train back. But in the morning, we went to the Kalamazoo Valley Museum. It�s sort of a science and history museum. We saw the �Mystery of the Mummy� exhibit, which first of all explains how the mummy got to Kalamazoo in the first place (some early local industrialist bought her from a San Francisco museum). We learned that CT scanning and facial reconstruction, she was pretty, high-ranking but not royal, and had bad teeth.
There was another exhibit called �Kalamazoo Direct to You� (that was the slogan of a stove company based there) that looked at the industrial history of the place. I�m such a dork; I got all jazzed that so many big companies were based in such a small town. Upjohn Pharmaceuticals, the manufacturer of Checker Cabs, and Gibson guitars were all based there. They even showed a video clip of Glenn Miller�s �I�ve Got a Gal in Kalamazoo�rom the 1943 film Orchestra Wives. Again, I realize I�m a dork, but it was a great way to end the trip.
Kalamazoo is where it�s at. Although I can�t vouch for thte quality of a lifetime spent there, it�s certainly fun for a few days.
� 2006 Geoff Gladstone
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