The other day I stopped on my bike ride to buy a loaf of bread. I was having a serious carb deficit, and with the long hill still ahead, thought I’d add an oatmeal cookie to the order.
“That’ll be…eight dollars,” the clerk said.
On the very short list of Things I Will Not Miss About Ann Arbor, that tops the list — eight bucks for a loaf of bread and a cookie. So many of the other things I was warned about have not only not been a problem, they make me question the perception of the warners.
Here’s the gist: “Oh, man, you’re not going to believe that place. Buncha liberal busybodies in your business all the time. The P.C. capital of the universe.”
True, for every “God bless and support our troops” sign you see in Fort Wayne, you see an “Another family for peace” sign here. But no busybody of any political stripe has been in my business at all, nor in any business I’ve been able to observe. You can still smoke in restaurants. Rampaging gangs of lesbians do not enforce no-leg-shaving laws. I’m sure the city council is capable of passing resolutions declaring the city a nuclear-free zone, but so what? Nearly 20 years of life in the Fort has inured me to city-council silliness. And if you see an excess of Honda Accords with bumper stickers reading “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention,” it’s balanced by the years in Indiana reading about someone’s cold, dead fingers being pried off a gun.
Yin, yang, blah blah blah. Anyway, it’s time to move.
The truck arrives in the morning and everything goes out the door shortly thereafter. We’ll be out of touch for a few days. Check back…Monday, maybe? When we’ll be back in the land of cheap bread. Dammit.