There is a Florida Man twitter handle, you know, “Florida Man Loses Arm In Explosion While Making Homemade Faaaaarworks” or “Naked Florida Man Gets Stuck On Top of Open Drawbridge”. We have our own version of Florida Man in the fam, although his activities are less flamboyant than hanging naked at the top of a drawbridge. But y’know, every state has its own version of Florida Man. I am currently reading a book of short stories by E. Annie Proulx and they are set in Wyoming and I don’t think Wyoming Man is a twitter handle yet but…

We have Michigan Man here, and here he is electrifying moe-skee-toes outta the Lyme Lounge at whatever the heck time we retaaaarrred for the night last night. It was later than my usual bedtime but not terribly late, like 10:30-ish. It was a little crazy because… 1) He was counting the carcasses as he dropped them into the sink (they are still there), and 2) we were not all that quiet so the Beach Urchins were shushing us, even though I don’t think *anyone* in the immediate vicinity was bothered by our 10 minutes of noise. After which I CRASHED OUT!

Yesterday some of the younger generation of folks staying at the Old Cabin were wondering where to get sparklers. Multiple people said, “Go over and ask Bill.” Yes, the GG would have sparklers if anyone did. And yes, he did. Multiple packages of them and some snakes and, uh, some stuff we won’t talk about.

So the younger generation did sparklers down on the beach and we watched some of the faaarworks over in Bay Mills and the moe-skee-toes just about ate us alive before we finally gave it up.

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