A couple spur of the moment trips

A Jottings reprints from October 15, 1986
For the most part I live a planned life. I mow the lawn on a certain day, get up and come to work at specific times, write this column at a designated time, etc.
My pocket calendar is always handy, and particular dates and appointments noted far in advance.
Usually, it disturbs me to have planned events, work or pleasure, disrupted.
What I’m saying is, I’m not a spur-of-the moment person. No, ‘Let’s jump in the car and run over and watch the freighters? for me. Or, go to a ball game, visit relatives, or even go for a quick boat ride on the lake.
However, in the last couple weeks, two quick-opening plans were offered and accepted. One came last Sunday morning, the first day of sunshine in three weeks.
My grass, like yours, was six inches high and growing. It had to be cut . . . . until Harry Rosen called and asked if me and my bride would like to fly to Charley’s Crab for breakfast.
I told him no, and mentioned the lawn. He said his was higher. Well, I did want to see Indianwood’s new golf development and the new basketball arena.
What followed was four hours of great enjoyment. The River Crab sent a van to the airport and took us back to an absolutely outstanding brunch.
Then Harry and his wife, Beverly, flew us over the flooded area around Saginaw (island buildings in acres of water), and south to the other two attractions.
Going over ground-level-familiar areas in an airplane is a fun adventure in guesswork. You just know that town is Mayville, and it’s really Brown City, etc.
The other ‘spur? happening was the previous Thursday. While playing the final night of our golf league, Joe Phipps asked if we wanted to take a boat tour of Lake Orion after the game. .
We’ve lived here in Oxford over 30 years and never had the opportunity before to see the many houses around the 22-mile shore line that outlines Lake Orion.
My goodness, the bucks spent on the water side of these residences . . . many which you would never recognize from the road past the ‘back? of the house.
Joe, the guide, who lives on Park Island in Lake Orion, kept us oriented as we toured the numerous coves and circled islands.
I guess we were a little surprised, though we shouldn’t have been, at how many people we know live on Lake Orion. It is an attractive lake.
Two sudden decisions certainly don’t make a habit, but they gave a nice spark to our otherwise regimented life, for which we thank, Harry and Joe.
(Back to the Present . . . the ‘new basketbaall areaena? I mentioned was Palace of Auburn Hills.)