Travel to Shaker Heights Ohio

I shudder as I land in the water of a horseshoe shaped lake. As I sink to the murky bottom, I think on the last few hours. The last thing I remember was the meeting. Then being flown off to some unknown locale. I don't remember how or why. Was it the watch? I pull myself to the surface and swim to the shore. Luckily it's not very far. I attempt to dry myself off in the sun, and begin walking around the perimeter of the water. There're rows of beautiful houses in front and behind me, large tudor homes that looked gracefully aged. I ask a couple walking passed the name of this town. Shaker Heights. What a lovely name. 

I decide to explore my surroundings. For a suburb none of the homes seem to be cookie cutter. They seem to be three styles, French, Tudor, and Cape Code. Perhaps this was a town mandate? There's not much commerce within the area, but I check my phone and we're only about twenty minutes from downtown Cleveland. I decide to take the "Rapid", a tram system that goes all the way from Shaker to the city. It's not very fast, which gives me time to take in the neighborhoods around me. I'm lay my head against the window and doze off. We'll be downtown soon.

Visit to Northville, Michigan 4/14/16

The meeting was uneventful, as usual. The only thing that differed from other meetings was that the other members of our party had also experienced brief but very vivid hallucinations in which they were human beings. Some members expressed concern over these hallucinations, but ultimately we decided that since these incidents had ceased and all members showed up to the meeting in good condition, the incident was not as important as giving our reports.

I diligently listed off the places I had visited since our last meeting. Hank pointed out that roughly half of these visits were in the state of Michigan. Janine suggested that my watch could be malfunctioning, but I assured them that my watch was simply not running on full power. After everyone finished giving their reports, we solemnly listened to the Little Einsteins opening song two times, as is our custom, before parting ways.

I tapped my watch three times and found myself in the middle of a busy street in another suburb. Cars slammed their brakes and drivers and passengers alike screamed as I rushed to a sidewalk. I ran past street signs that read Eight Mile Rd and Center Street and continued leaving the scene at a brisk pace until I was certain that I had put some distance from the accident.

I continued walking for some time until I came across a building that read Parmenter's Northville Cider Mill.

Evidentally the building was a cider mill. Since it was spring, it was relatively empty. I assumed that the cider mill was more popular during autumn.

I walked further along, enjoying the nice weather. I passed by a Planet Fitness, as well as a strange building with an old, spinning wooden wheel. A sign some distance away called the building Henry Ford's Valve Plant, and the wheel a waterwheel, which turned the power of the running water into electricity.

I turned onto Main Street and passed by a Starbucks, which I stopped in to get some nourishment. I heard German and Korean spoken there. When I stepped out of the Starbucks, I immediately saw a church. Continuing in the same direction on Main Street, I saw many small businesses, but mostly eateries. In fact, I counted five shops that sold ice cream, frozen yogurt, and the like. There were too many restaurants and cafes for me to count. Towards the end of the area crammed with businesses was a fire station, library, post office, and police station, all in relatively close proximity to each other.

I left Main Street to walk into the Northville Library parking lot and descended some stairs to end up on West Cady Street, where I found a dog park next to a cemetery. This, for some reason, reminded me of when I visited an area of Queens, Manhattan and found a nursing home next to a funeral parlor.

I continued walking, turning down random streets, until I came across a big structure that read Northville Downs.

Judging from the symbol to the left of the letters, I assumed that people raced horses on the field.

A little tired from all of the walking, I tapped my watch once to teleport within the same town. I found myself looking at Northville High School. Since I had no particular desire to go into the building, I walked onto their track only to find myself frowning at the big orange N on the football field.

The N is very important in my culture to the point where it is in every one of our names. I found it a little unsettling to have it emblazoned on the ground where people could constantly trample over it.

Bay City, Michigan - Cheyenne Couture

When I was in Howell, one of those boys on their skateboards came down the hill and knocked me over, and I hit my head and blacked out.

When I awoke I was back in Singapore with my iced Milo, although now much more melted than when I first got it. I must have daydreamed off for a bit. How strange that I had hallucinated that I did not have my watch. I would be lost without it.

Speaking of the watch, it notified me that there was yet another meeting of the secret extra-terrestrial kind in Bay City, Michigan. So I tossed out my sadly wasted iced Milo (since food cannot travel with me), and tapped my watch three times…

… and landed in the middle of a swamp. Damn, my calibration must be off. I wade out of the water and through the cattails and come across a wooden bridge. A family passes by on their bikes, gawking at me in the water.  I wave and make some excuse about dropping my phone as to not cause suspicion.

I have landed in the middle of a state park. The Bay City State Park to be specific. I had been told the meeting is in the woods behind Tobico Marsh so I began to hike there.

I walked down the cement path and out of the forest and find a cute little nature center. When wandering inside, I was educated about the various wildlife in the area, and played a few of their interactive quizzes on wildlife (my favorite was the birds of prey quiz, I love owls.) After my visit there, i noticed in a distance the splash park and large wooden playscape that was populated by lots of laughing and playing children. I wished to join them, but that would be highly inappropriate since I am an adult and I do have a meeting to get to.

 

I continued down the path and found that it led back out to main road. Across the street from me was a cute little ice cream shop next door to a mini golf course. I wish that I hadn’t come on business, I made a mental note to take a ride on the bumper boats later.

I eventually crossed a street, (I also realized that I may have gone the long way around to view those two places, since the path to Tobico Marsh is literally across from the nature center). I walk down this long path on my way to the marsh. It was enclosed by trees for a brief time and a quite relaxing environment to be in. After I had been walking for about 20 minutes, the path forked, one going down a private road and the other going deeper into the marsh, and I followed the latter. Our meeting was being held at the top of the second observatory tower, the one that was deeper in the forest and therefore harder to reach. The hike through the forest was pleasant, and I stopped briefly at one of the observation areas to watch a pair of swans float peacefully on the water. Another 20 minutes of hiking through the woods and I had arrived at my meeting. I climb the 3 flights of stairs and prepare myself to be very bored for the next hour.

Howell Michigan- Riley Hanson

So, I am a journalist, and I am going to Howell Michigan. The Suburban sprawl spreads its sweaty fingers all the way to the good ole country bumpkin. That same boy wears a rebel flag tee shirt, drives tractors, and calls girls bitches. I meet some kids talking about all the sex they’re having. Their mommies and daddies don’t give a damn because they’re too busy pulling nine to fives at the place down the street that that one girl killed herself at. Driving down these mud-mucked roads I find a few good ole American gems. The white picket fences, a few windows to peak through, and I guess a new swingers group just moved in the neighborhood. But wait, maybe this is all some goddamn Middle American John Waters film. Little boys come crashing down hills on skateboards; they probably toss eggs and smash mailboxes too, all to get away from daddy throwing plates at mommy. That’s the only soul saving business, the skate shop. And maybe the coffee shop on the corner. If it weren’t for that auction house down the street auctioning off a klu klux klan robe back in the summer of 04’ this place might have a chance at a breath of fresh air. No matter all the swell looking billboards promoting a new face lift, this place will always have an evil lurking. At least until all those fucked up ideologies die, and its been way to long for grandpa’s racist slur’s to make it to the ear’s of the freshly popped out young pup. That poor little boy still doesn’t have a chance though, because his daddy wants him to be a ball playing star so hard that that little boy will be so goddamn scared to be himself. God forbid he comes home with another boy in his arm.

This is why I’m here right? A journalist? So I can make some sort of work to show you and everyone else the false ideologies breeding oppression right here in our backyard. “You know sometimes good ole family values are okay,” I recon those values they’re talking about, aren’t the okay ones.