Rain, Art, Friends

Well, after more than a month, we’ve finally got some rain on the farm and a bit more is expected later this evening. The lawn, long reduced to a taupe mat, hasn’t needed a mow in a few weeks. The corn in the south field is much stressed and the sunflowers became full victims of the draught.

Of course any long-time resident of the greater Ann Arbor area could have predicted the rain – it always coincides with the start of the annual art fairs. Each year, about a half million people come to town to survey the juried art, dine al fresco, and drive strollers into my shins. Sweaty, uncomfortable babies and tots spend most of the day staring at people’s knees and howling for respite while their parents debate the proffered esthetics.

This four-day event is an economic boon to the area and has a multi-state draw. Yesterday, I met a couple who came on a tour bus from Cleveland. He achieved both his undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Michigan and cheerfully volunteered that his first stop of the day was to the alumni office at the law school to drop off a donation.

I don’t usually spend much time amidst the hordes, but I met my friend Anne, who came to town for the event, for lunch. We were surprised by the ease with which we secured a table – lunching during the art fair can be a contact sport; we thought we’d eat light. As we shared antipasto and a salmon mousse accompanied by a chardonnay for her and cold pilsner for me, we thought we should probably check in with her husband. Grant’s a real food buff so it made sense that we send a photo of the meal (reproduced here) along with a “wish you were here” message. His reply was cordial but with the admonition: “Keep a lid on her spending!”

After lunch, I thought I would walk with Anne through the heart of the exhibits then head back to my office. I’m not sure, but I doubt that we were a hundred yards from the restaurant before Anne fell in love with some ceramics. I can best describe these as Tiki torches shaped like modernistic heads – they really are fun. After getting the artist’s attention, Anne eventually bought about half the available inventory and added a couple of other pieces. These translated into six parcels, each about the size of a rugby ball.

We are on foot, a half mile from my office or truck, a mile or so from her car, the sun was burning off the rain clouds and humidity was starting to taunt us (and, I had already suffered two significant shin/stroller encounters by this point). We distribute the load between the two of us and head through campus to deposit these awkward and fragile treasures in my truck.

Along the way, we encounter a police officer coming our way. He smiles and asks if I was available to take his wife shopping. Had my hands not been full, I’d be writing this from jail.

The packages were safely ensconced in my truck and we had a plan to transfer the goods later in the day. I go back to the office; Anne goes back into the fray.

Around five, we meet at a bistro somewhat removed from the oceans of people to make the transfer – there I got to see the jewelry and other treasures she secured.

Despite the Sherpa work (and Anne, if you are reading this, it wasn't bad at all!), the lunch and the shopping caper were nice diversions during my work day. I can’t report to Grant that I successfully “kept a lid on the spending,” but I’m certain he wasn’t surprised.

The rain has restarted – with it a cool breeze and fresh smell. I’m looking forward to seeing the totems along with Grant and Anne next time I visit.



For additional information about the Art Fairs, see http://artfairs.visitannarbor.org/