There are times where I feel like blogging is a crutch allowing me to back out of situations that aren�t exactly as I�d like them and attain observer status. In the case of this weekend, I felt at times that I was watching a play unfold. A play, I might add, with a rather strange cast of characters.

We arrived in Saugatuck in the middle of the annual St. Patrick�s Day parade, which seemed to involve a lot of dogs wearing green bandanas and men dressed in green shorts and T-shirts (it was 28 degrees) dancing jigs behind assorted lawn-care machinery. As we were about to lean over and make some kind of scathing remark, our hosts J1 & J2, whom we�d met on the street half a block away with their son G. and friend D., started waving madly and calling the name of one of the overgrown, middle-aged leprechauns and it became clear that he was one of the people joining us for the weekend. Social faux pas narrowly avoided.

After the parade, we dragged a couple of two tables together at a local tavern where some of us dined on fish tacos, others on corned beef and cabbage and others on macaroni and cheese (AJ, of course) which those of us of age washed down with Arrogant Bastard beer, which somehow changed its name to Fat Bastard by the time we�d had one or two. After lunch we strolled the too-quaint streets of downtown Saugatuck, where I bought truffles for my father�s birthday at his favorite chocolate shop (my parents went to college in Michigan and my mom grew up about an hour or so north of Saugatuck), admired oil paintings in a gallery, bought batteries at a hardware store, admired the view, and otherwise made total tourists of ourselves. When we tired of the wind, we piled into our cars and drove up the hill towards the cabin.

J1 and J2 have been talking about their cabin for some time and we�d always assumed they used the word �cabin� like people do to mean �second home.� We even explained it to AJ who had asked, �Is it a real log cabin?� But it was, in fact, a real log cabin. AJ jumped out of the car and said, �Wow! It looks just like Lincoln Logs!� And it did to, with all the corners neatly crossed. Once inside, he hung his coat on the inside corners and placed his small shoes on one of the bottom logs. When asked later, he would say that this was his favorite thing about the trip.

The next hour or so was spent choosing bedrooms and unloading cars and unpacking piles of food and drink. AJ picked a room in the basement with a big bed for us and bunk beds for him. �I�ve always wanted to sleep in a bunk bed!� he exclaimed. He hopped up the ladder, leaned back against the pillow and sighed with contentment.

Later we dispersed into assorted groups. The three children wound up in the basement watching Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which AJ has recently been reading for the umpteenth time, this time in tandem with the terrific books-on-tape version read by Eric Idle. Mr. Spy went for a run in the woods � the cabin is on 5 acres of forest and is down the street from a nature preserve. J2 and the leprechaun went to town for provisions and the three women and D. ((a gay man) sat in the kitchen drinking and talking about nothing in particular. D. seemed a terrific storyteller and had a good voice for a character in his first story, an elderly Jewish woman who chain-smoked. But as the weekend wore on, it became clear that he used this voice for every character he wished to dramatize: his boss, his friend�s aunt, a guy behind him in line. But his adorable dog more than made up for his lack of storytelling acumen. A yellow lab with a pink nose who was not as well behaved as her owner thought she was, but was charmingly doggie nonetheless. The dog freaked AJ out a bit, but he did fairly well at steering clear of her and he loved to watch her chase squirrels in the yard, as long as he was observing from the safety of a kitchen window.

The rest of the evening was spent in various configurations of conversations with food and drink. There was the appetizer cooking scene, with the usual comic interludes caused by too many cooks with too little to do, while another scene, in which I did not play a part, took place in the living room but seemed dreadfully dull upon my entrance late in the act. This portion of the act involved a discussion of the presidential candidates in a way that made it clear that everyone had the same information from the same media outlets. And while some feigned mild opinions, most didn�t seem to much care. With such lack of enthusiasm, the conversation dragged on and on without a clear end point until someone mercifully interrupted and suggested dinner. Then followed a scene at the dinner table where four people droned on about grass fed beef for such an incredibly long time that I was both fascinated at their tenacity and ready to shoot myself in the head. There was the scene after dinner where everyone tried to help in the kitchen but no one actually did anything. There was the ghost-story telling scene, where no one really listened to anyone else�s stories. Then I excused myself to put AJ to bed. I was concerned he would be loathe to leave his newfound kid friends, but instead he cheered at the idea of curling up in his bunk bed.

After AJ was tucked in, my favorite scene began. I gave up a lot of things when I had AJ, most of which I regret little. But I really miss playing music with friends. I can�t even remember the last time I did it. But J1 pulled out his guitar and I my fiddle and we played some tunes � old American songs like �O Mary, Don�t you weep� and Irish jigs and reels and pop ballads like �Wichita Lineman� and a couple of jazz standards. We played for hours, finally packing it in when someone realized it was 12:30 and the two older kids (ages 11 and 8) were still up.

No one in the Spy household got much sleep. Mr. Spy retired early but couldn�t sleep because of his chronic insomnia and the music. AJ went to bed later than usual and woke up at 2:30 ready to rumble. It took me two hours to get him back to sleep. And per his ever-reliable internal clock, he woke up at his usual hour, adjusted for Michigan time.

By breakfast, everyone was feeling a little like it was a cocktail party that had gone on too long and no one was sure how to get out of gracefully. Mr. Spy, AJ and I dragged J1 with us to the nature preserve for a hike. AJ led the way with a map. We followed the trail through the deserted forest, along a bluff overlooking a river and a bird-filled marsh. In a clearing, we spotted a swing hanging from a huge oak tree. I helped AJ up and pushed. The branch from which the swing hung was high and the ropes that held the board seat up were very long. This meant that AJ swung higher than he ever had before. He had a huge grin plastered to his face and he giggled for the sheer joy of it all. This was the other moment AJ said he loved best about the weekend. I have to say that it was one of mine too.

By the time we returned, a few more people had arisen. The adults were looking comatose, hungover, and a little sick of each other. We packed our things and loaded the car. We were ready to leave.

On the way home, we stopped in a nearby town for a classic heart attack breakfast involving large quantities of eggs and cheese and grease and also blueberry muffins which, since they had fruit in them, made us feel healthier. Closer to home, we made another stop, this time at AJ�s grandmother�s to pick up a couple of early birthday presents that she thought he might like to have for our trip. AJ is now the proud owner of a metal detector, which thus far he has used to identify each and every nail in his bedroom floor.

We all crashed early and slept as long as we could get away with. Now begins our final days before the real vacation and we are all making lists and crossing things off and staging mental countdowns (if not breakdowns). I am also remembering that this is the last week of five. Five has been a very good year. And as excited as I am to see six, I�m very sad to see five go. AJ, however, is very much full speed ahead. �Goodbye, five!� he said the other day when I was waxing nostalgic over pictures of his birthdays past. �See you when I�m six!�

[Second entry today. Click back if you like Socrates. Or maybe just wave your cigarette lighter in the air.]

2 people said it like they meant it