you were all hanging out here already so you didn’t see this
[QUOTE=me, late last night in the old MMP]
I am home from my weekend with 299 other women. No, it wasn’t a lesbian orgy, just a Sweet Adelines conference.
I am tired, so I’m not even going to pretend I skimmed. So I’m sorry if I missed anything important or otherwise especially noteworthy. You’ll forgive me, right?
So, we’re travelling home along 78 East and I step on the brakes (because it was warranted) and they slip and I swerve, but got it under contol before anything nasty happened. The whole ride home, whenever I saw that there was no one close behind me, I pumped the brakes which made them work properly, but if I drove for a stretch without doing that, when I did step, they acted like only one side was working.
So I made up my mind I was going to get up early on my day off and take the car in to get the brakes examined and repaired. I was perplexed because the brakes behaved normally and well on the drive out Friday on the rainy wet slippery roads.
As per habit after one of these things, we (roommate and I) met up with her husband at a diner near their home so that I could stretch and get some coffee and transfer her stuff to his car and be on my way.
As I drove off, I noticed a warning light I hadn’t seen on the 80 mile trip home - the parking brake was still on. I never use it, so I didn’t think to check it before leaving the hotel. But roommate had parked the car Friday evening when we got there, so she retrieved the car and pulled it up to the hotel’s front door so we could load up and leave - and she must have set the parking brake So I called her when I got home and told her next time please remind me to check that before I put the car in gear.
[/QUOTE]
The only tales of Michigan I have are from many years ago. The first one: I was at a Mensa conference and in the same hotel was the Michigan State High School Basketball Coaches Association (or whatever the prooper name of that organization is). At one point, on the elevator were 3 coaches and me. They asked about Mensa and I gave a brief but accurate desciption. One of the coaches asked “so what do you do at these things, get together and solve the world’s problems?” As the door opened for my floor, before I stepped out, I turned and smiled and said “no, we cause them” and slipped out as the doors closed (I was far more fleet afoot in those days)
At another Mensa conference a few years after that, the hotel was also hosting a Science Fiction Convention as well as the state association of psychologists. It was easy to tell who was with which group - we were in jeans and t-shirts, the SF folk were in all manner of costume, and the psychologists were the ones following various clusters of us (and SF-ers) around scribbling hastily in their notebooks.
I had relatives in the Ann Arbor area at one time, but I think they’ve since moved