Warning: The Button Is On The Road!

Alert to all Ann Arbor motorists, bicycle riders, and pedestrians! The Button is 16 and has passed her road test!

First, did you KNOW that a parent has to ride in the car during the road test? I’d like to know who thought up THAT bright idea? The test took about 45 minutes, and I sat quietly in the back seat the entire time with my eyes closed, trying to come as close to a state of zen calm as possible.

It’s hard to argue with the longer, more complex driver’s ed process that kids have to undergo nowadays. The Button did six weeks of classes at All Star Driver’s Ed last year, plus several hours of road time with their instructor. Then she had to take a shorter class (again at All Star) close to her birthday this year, pass the written test, and finally the road test. PLUS we had to document that she experienced 50 hours of driving accompanied by her dad or me.

When I was a kid, driver’s ed was offered after school and taught by “moonlighting” teachers. I have very fond memories of my teacher. To this day whenever I parallel park, I can hear Coach Rayce telling me “pull forward so that your front passenger door is lined up with the rear passenger door of the car parked in front of your space.”

Anyway, despite my misgivings the Button passed her road test with flying colors – she appeared to only get marked down for failing to check her blind spot when she changed lanes on I-94. After she finished, I commented that it seemed pretty easy. “Honestly, has anyone ever actually failed?” I wondered. “Yeees!” the Button yelped, “My friend Gina failed three times! Why do think I won’t ride anywhere with her?!”

Twelfth Night, or How to Know When the Knave is Just Not That Into You

The Button and I rented a movie recently, the charming bit of chick-flick fluff called “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Then the Accountant and I went to see “Twelfth Night” in the Arb Saturday night. And the two have gotten kind of mashed up in my head….

Olivia: So wait, this was at the end of the date or the beginning of the date?
Viola: End. Why?! Does it matter?
Olivia: Yeah… ‘Nice meeting you’ at the beginning of the date, that’s normal. ‘Nice meeting you’ at the end of the date…it could be a blow off.
Viola: (uncertainly) Maybe it was at the beginning…
Olivia: Okay. That’s fine. He’s gonna call.

Orsino: Look, you seem like a cool girl so I’m going to be honest with you. The guy is never going to call you.
Viola: Really?! How do you know?
Orsino: Because I’m a guy, and that’s just how we do it.
Viola: He said it was nice meeting me!
Orsino: I don’t care if he said you were his favorite female since his mommy or Joanie Cunningham. Over a week went by, okay? He ain’t calling you.
Viola: But maybe he did call, and I didn’t get the message. Or maybe he lost my number. Or is out of town. Or got hit by a cab. Or his grandma died.
Orsino: Or mayyybe he just didn’t call because he has no interest in seeing you again.

Maria: I’m pretty sure that something’s about to happen between us.
Andrew: (knowingly) Ohhhhhhh.
Toby: So then are you at the party like, as his guest? Or like, as his date?
Andrew: (interjecting) I hate that! When you don’t know if you’re a date! So you don’t know if you should bring a friend, or are you like co-hosting? And should you stay to the end to try to get some alone time?
Maria: He didn’t really say. But I’m sure I’m more than a guest. I mean, there have been signs.

Olivia: I can’t text. I’m not charming via text.
Malvolio: Well, maybe you should stop texting.
Olivia: But it’s not just texting. It’s email. It’s voice mail. It’s snail mail.
Malvolio: That IS regular mail.
Olivia: Whatever. None of it’s working. This guy left me a voice mail at work, so I called him at home. And then he emailed to my blackberry, and so I texted t his cell. And then he emailed to my home account. And the whole thing just got out of control. I miss the days when you had one phone number and one answering machine. And that one answering machine held one cassette tape. And that one cassette tape either had a message from the guy or it didn’t. Now, you have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It’s exhausting.

Beg, Borrow, or Steal

“I read this article in the travel section of the paper,” Kelly said to Sherry and me as we sat down to the bar on the roof at Palio. “It was all about getting the most for your dollar for a night on the town. I think the goal was $40 per person. We should try that tonight!”Kelly was in town from Chattanooga, so we were in the early hours of one of our bi-annual girls’ night out. We were exploring Main Street as part of Restaurant Week, and had just rejected Black Pearl’s $25 prix fixe meal in favor of 1/2 off appetizers and wine at the Palio roof bar. We had a very congenial bartender in the form of Vinnie (who looked young enough to be the Button’s prom date), but the restriction of staying at the bar had us literally sweating it out. Comprised of a large concrete slab, it had absorbed the heat of the day and was radiating it right back at us. A little toasty.

So we vowed to try to make it through the evening, dinner and drinks, on $40 each. “I think we could even stand out on the corner and beg for money!” Kelly laughed. “You mean like on ‘Amazing Race,’ when a team loses their wallets?” I asked. “Yeah!” I then pointed out that it would take some nerve, in a town where half the people have suffered paycuts or lost their jobs, to beg to pay our bar bill for the night. No matter how cute Kelly looked in her sundress.

Palio offers a limited menu on the roof, with only four appetizers on the menu. We ordered the bruschetta, the tapenade variety plate, and some sort of melted goat cheese thingy. The bruschetta was the best – the balsamic vinegar drizzled on the chopped tomatoes, onions, and capers was tangy and yummy. And the artichoke spread among the tapenades was also a standout - garlicy good. The melted goat cheese had been under the broiler too long, we thought – too stiff to spread and too oily.

We wrapped up at Palio and walked down Liberty towards Top of the Park, bumping into Beth on her bike on the way. Luck was with us, since it was one of the few nights this week that rain wasn’t threatening, and it was a beautiful evening on the Ingalls Mall. We marched up to the bar in the Beer Garden at TOP, and Kelly explained “Girls’ Night Out - Beg, Borrow, or Steal Edition” to Max Kurek, the bartender.

And this is where things started to get a little fuzzy, so allow me to refer to my notes…

Max is…
… a Greenhills graduate.
…junior at U of M.
…philosophy major (didn’t know people still did that).
…taking “Philosphy of Religion” with Prof. Louis Loeb spring term.
(exactly 23 years ago I took the same class, same professor. Think I passed.)
…member of Phi Delta Theta.
…not dating anyone right now.
And, without a doubt, Max Kurek is the most charming, handsome, erudite bartender to ever grace the staff of Top of the Park. If you think Max might be a good match for a friend or daughter, send me an email and I'll forward.

As I said, things started to get a little fuzzy about half-way through TOP, but emerging from our hangovers the next day an email came through from Sherry, who had been tracking our expenses on her iPhone:

Palio - $42.14
TOP, Max 1 bottle of wine - $12.00
TOP, Max 4 mini bottles - $15.00
TOP, tip $5.00
Arbor Brewing - $22.00

So, that adds up to $96.14. We easily beat our goal of $40 each.

(Thanks Max!)