Hollywood Spoils Little Bohemia

We saw Public Enemies last week, our one venture to the movies all summer. It was the 7:00 show and the theater was packed. It was also filthy. Spilled popcorn and snack wrappers littered the floor and clearly, the high traffic for this show had taken its smelly toll.

This made me wonder: Can the Northwoods handle Hollywood success?

Public Enemies, starring Johhny Depp, was not a winner for me. I had hoped it would be more of an inside look at the life of the notorious gangster, John Dillinger—particularly because of the talents of the man portraying him. But no. It wasn’t much more than two hours of machine guns blasting. And because all the trench coats and “Cagney” hats looked the same, I had a hard time distinguishing which characters were the public enemies and which were the public servants.

In my uncomfortable seat, I spent most of my viewing time waiting for the scenes shot at Little Bohemia, a restaurant located in Manitowish Waters. I had eaten there many times prior to the release of the film on July 1, 2009, viewed the preserved bullet holes in the windows, and read the yellowed newspaper articles about the shootout there in 1934. Last spring, “Little Bo’s” menu got an overhaul and I made the 45-minute drive there twice, just to eat the best walleye I’ve ever had in the Northwoods.

Being a resort owner, I am asked daily by our guests where they should go out to dinner. This year, without reservation, I have suggested they make the drive up to Little Bohemia, to experience the atmosphere and the fantastic food. I make the recommendation with such passion, that almost EVERYONE goes.

Last night, we took a visiting friend there, expecting a wonderful evening out. Unfortunately, Little Bohemia fell far short of our expectations.

First of all, our table wasn’t ready at our reservation time. And then, the surly hostess seated us right next to the constant swinging doors of the kitchen and the waiter’s station. We asked to be moved and it was as if we had asked for a free meal. She reluctantly moved us to a table across the room and then we were ignored. Wait and bus staff folded napkins and set tables all around us, but no waiter or waitress would even look in our direction. All the indifferent hostess had to say was, “Someone will be right with you,” and it would have been fine. But she couldn’t have cared less.

Finally, our waitress, who failed to give us her name OR smile, was highly unpleasant. The Coke’s were flat. Twice. My salad tasted like Styrofoam and I was brought the wrong dressing. The appetizer of sour creamed egg whites was inedible. My daughter’s ‘medium rare’ steak was still “mooing” and had to be sent back.

The good news is that the walleye was still delicious. It was the best part of the experience—similar to Johnny Depp being the best part of Public Enemies.

My guess is Little Bohemia is experiencing mid-season burnout. The wait staff seems to resent their success more than they appreciate it. Clearly, they’re tired of the onslaught of tourists, and even though it wasn’t particularly crowded when we got there, they had no desire to act the role of accommodating public servants.

In spite of how much business we’ve sent them week after week, we didn’t mention it, nor did we expect any special treatment. Regardless, we certainly didn’t expect to be treated like public enemies. We were just hoping to have a nice evening out and ended up doing research for the concierge portion of our job.

So, this morning when asked where to go out to dinner, I recommended the families staying in two of our cabins skip the drive up to Manitowish Waters tonight, and instead go to Mama’s Supper Club. It’s close by and ALWAYS a winner.

Piper in the Pro Shop

Musician, Dave Graham, Illinois resident and Sandy Point guest for the past seven summers, treated the resort today with his bagpipe show. Decked in a jaunty Scottish tam, this year he left the kilt behind and first played at the beach, where it was a bit windy. He brought the pipes up to the cabin area and when he played, a large group of disc golfers stopped in their tracks, held onto their discs for a moment and listened. Soon, putting practice took on a ceremonial feel.

Friday is always a busy day on the course and today was no exception. So, Dave brought his pipes into the pro shop and gave me a personal performance. "It's going to be a lot louder in here than it is outside," he warned as he stepped inside and filled his lungs with air and his pipes with music.

It was a true treat from one of the nicest guests we are lucky enough to see each summer at Sandy Point. Dave is also known as Dave "Catfish" Graham. He is a member of The Salt Creek Boys, probably best described as a folk rock band, and regularly performs in venues around the Chicago area. He not only plays the bagpipes, but also guitar and dulcimer. For more information about the Salt Creek Boys, visit their website at: www.saltcreekboys.com. Meanwhile, check out the Pro Shop Performance:

Sushi in the Northwoods? Moo!

Last week and for the past 20 years, anytime anyone mentioned “sushi” in the Northwoods, the word that most frequently followed was “bait.” It was similar to the asking the question, “Farms in Berkeley?” (the place from which we came) and hearing the answer, “Moo!” *

Being major sushi aficionados when we first moved here from Northern California, it wasn’t unusual for us to travel as far as Appleton or Madison with a cooler full of ice in order to transport a to-go package to fulfill our constant cravings for this raw fish, Japanese delicacy.

But that has changed. In the year 2009, sushi has finally found its way to the Island City of Minocqua, Wisconsin. We went there for the first time last Sunday and three days later, tonight, we went back. Yes, it’s a regular hamachi, unagi, maguro, caterpillar roll, dragon roll, white tuna, salmon, miso soup and edamame dinner. And, it’s fabulous.

The first time we were there it was odd eating something other than fried food, steak or grilled walleye here in the Northwoods. But not tonight. Tonight we sat right next to the Main Street window and watched the tourist show walk by. Meanwhile, every 10 minutes we saw someone we knew either dining at or passing by the restaurant—disc golf season pass holders, resort guests, even fans of my books.

So, when sushi hits a small town it tastes even more familiar.

Dōmo arigatō to the proprietors of Kobe Sushi, 519 Oneida Street, Minocqua, WI • 715-358-7983. We highly recommend it.

* Berkeley Farms, a dairy company based in Northern California once used the slogan: “Farms in Berkeley? Moo!”

The Cost of Good Clean Family Fun

Yesterday was Camille’s birthday—a family holiday to be sure. Each July 15 we all do minimum tasks at Sandy Point Resort and put the pro shop in the very capable hands of our man Stu, so we can spend the day celebrating our youngest member.

After watching her annual renewed membership in the Northwoods Birthday Club on NBC Channel 12, she opened her gifts and plastered a smile across her beautiful face that lasted the entire day. It doesn’t take much to please Camille. She could have opened a box of rubber bands and it would have made her happy. So, the iPod touch sent her soaring.

In years past, we’ve gone to an indoor waterslide facility, a place called The Waters; however, last year her broken arm prevented that. This year she was looking for something “new.” I’m not sure who had the idea to go Go-Karting, but it was certainly in-line with all our thinking (particularly because we’ve seen the movie “The Great Outdoors” about a thousand times) that it’s a great—even classic— Northwoods family activity.

And it was.

The kids went on all three tracks, dad on two, I on one. The kart was a little kramped for me, but I accelerated around those curves and loved the feel of the wind in my face. It was a fun-filled five minutes of burning fossil fuels.

Total cost for 15 minutes of activity (45 if you add up all our individual five minute runs): $54 . . . plus six bucks for the ice cream, bringing us to $60. This means that while we were out gallivanting, our own business that tries to attract the family-activity crowd, needed to take in 12 green fees to pay for our expenses.

We might have had half that number.

Something is wrong with this picture. Sandy Point Resort and Disc Golf Ranch offers a great family activity that costs five bucks a head and kids under 12 are FREE. Further, as compared to a Go-Kart run that lasts five minutes, a disc golf green fee is good for the entire day. With 25-27 holes on the course, an average round takes 1-1/2 to 2 hours; but you can play it twice, even three times. You can even leave and come back, and like some of our die-hard fanatics, play night golf til 3 AM.

Even if you don’t care for the game, no one can deny that the grounds are gorgeous, and walking with your friends or family while they play is a great outdoor exercise. There’s a picnic area and a lovely, clean public bathroom. 

So if you’re looking for an inexpensive way to spend time with your family this summer OR if you want to bring out the kids for a birthday party, head out Hwy. 70, 20 minutes West of Minocqua. It's worth the drive and we’re open during the road construction. 

We've got a fabulous, unique shop too, and frankly, we could use the business. For one reason, we have to find a way to pay for that iPod.

The Beyotch at Sandy Point Resort

What a nightmare. I have been the crabbiest beyotch on the planet for the past six weeks due to the Internet project put before me at a time of year when I hardly have time to go to the bathroom without interruption.

The problem: Our original webmaster, who could never get the shopping cart to function on our online store, gave up. Yes, he threw up his hands, pushed aside the keyboard and said, "I quit." He doesn't feel good about it and has offered to make some kind of restitution; however, this cost us A LOT of money and even more time photographing and uploading products to said site. 

So, we hired a new guy, who promised us a working site in 12 days. He agreed to match the cost of the original but failed to mention we'd have to duplicate the number of hours (and we're talking hundreds of hours) to upload the some 200 products we had in the store.

After 12 days, we weren't even close to having a working site. Every day there was a new glitch, snafu or problem. The misspellings and grammar errors alone made the editor in me ROAR (and I've never been much of a copy editor). I lost count after day 45 of correspondence that usually began with a morning email from me asking: "When is our site going live?"

That was at least a week ago.

Well, it looks like we finally have an operating online store. I can't be sure because we haven't had any REAL customers yet, and I suppose that means I'm going to be spending whatever minutes of time I can find during the remainder of the season to promote this thing . . . hence this blog.

The Shop at Sandy Point Resort

Christmas in July

This Thursday, July 9, 2009, the annual Christmas in July Arts and Crafts fair will take place in St. Germain, Wisconsin. This will be one of only two juried shows I will be participating in this summer. I will bring with me my traveling jewelry boards, showing off all the latest creations from Dream Life Designs.

This fair, St. Germain’s largest of the season, takes place between 9am and 3pm at St. Germain Community Park, just off Hwy. 70 East. For the first time I’m not bringing my tent with the colorful waving flags. They wanted me to set up on a dirt road and I didn’t want the jewelry to get dusty. Why I can’t manage to get the same tent site each year after doing this show for about seven or eight years is always puzzling; however, I’m happy to try out a site under the pavilion.

Hopefully I’ll see many of my regular customers who always help make this show a success, and meet some new people as well. Of course, for those of you who can’t make it, the shop at Sandy Point is open every day between now and September and you may also want to check out our NEW online store: www.sandypointproshop.com

And by the way, the weather forecast is for 78° temperatures with a chance of late thunder storms. That's far better than the 53° highs we had last week, when it truly felt like Christmas in July.

Birch Trees Strip Tease

Some of you may remember our valiant effort to save the birch trees at our shoreline last summer after a momentary microburst tore apart about 400 ft. of our lakefront. Most of the trees uprooted or snapped in half by the sudden wind gust could not be saved, nor could the boat house they smashed. But the stand of four birch trees at the east end of the property were pulled back into position by our “muscle boat.”

Here is a link to a video documenting the birch tree rescue.

Seventeen years ago when we moved to the Northwoods, the previous owner of Sandy Point told us “all of the birch trees would be gone in ten years.” Given we still have hundreds of them on property, happily his prophecy didn’t come true. We have, however, lost several hundred to both a birch blight and a birch bore. Evidence of dying birch trees is around every corner in the Northwoods.

Because they tend to die from the top down and regularly drop branches and large sections of trunk, they can be a hazard. Twice now, we’ve had our friends, The Good Family, (who are Sandy Point regulars and happen to be lumberjacks) come in the fall and take down all the dead birches in the common areas of the grounds.

When we returned to Sandy Point in the spring, we were happy to see our rescued lakefront stand had re-rooted and survived a particularly harsh winter.

But it was a sad sight to see the holocaust pile of dead birch logs piled just off of Sandy Point Lane, on the fairway of long-hole 9.

Because I couldn’t bear see these trees go to rot, I found a way to preserve their beautiful paper white bark. Armed with plenty of mosquito repellant and a utility knife, I stripped many of these beauties bare and opened the birch bark factory.

So far my creations have been canoe ornaments and switch plate covers. Unfortunately I just ran out of sewing sinew.

More is on the way, though, and I’ve got these beautiful pieces of classic Northwoods beauty for sale in The Shop at Sandy Point.

I don’t know how much longer nature will supply my materials, so don’t hesitate to get your hands on these items. They make great gifts, and even better reminders of Northwoods’ beauty.

When Your Sister Hates Your Photo

For months I believed—and more importantly—my husband believed my Facebook profile photo was a good one. After all, he’s the one who snapped it.

We were on the deck of our oceanfront room at the Some Like It Hot Hotel in Coronado, California, while celebrating our wedding anniversary. Apparently he thought I looked nice enough to photograph.

Last night, however, I found out that my sister thinks it’s a horrible photo.

“Why would you use that photo?” she asked. “It’ not a photo of my pretty sister.” These were her kindest comments.

I think it’s a good photo. And yet, my sister Gayle (and apparently our other sister, Mary Beth, with whom she discussed it) thinks it looks nothing like me. Huh? I swear, it’s most definitely my FACE in that photo.

Maybe they didn’t recognize the me I am when I actually get four days off to spend alone with my husband. Or me with my hair down, a little bit of make-up and nice clothes. Me . . . actually happy?

Perhaps my sisters can’t help but still think of the kid with the face full of freckles and the mouth full of braces they once knew. 

It’s amazing how thirty-something years can change a girl.

Runaway Brides: Fazio Fails.

Diana Jones, communication director for the Tanque Verde Valley group against the Fazio wedding business development on Tanque Verde Loop in Northeast Tucson (Pima County), reports today that the County Zoning Inspector decision once again denied the conditional use permit to this 'wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.'

BACKGROUND: John Fazio and his wife, Debi, purchased a three-acre property in a residentially-zoned area on the East side's Tanque Verde Loop. Their intent was to develop a church and obtain a conditional use permit to do so. This may have been permissible if it weren't for their track record of using two previous "non-profit" and tax-exempt operations for what ultimately appeared to be a cover for a lucrative wedding business operation. 

Fazio was quoted that the Tanque Verde Loop location, "Mesquite Grove Chapel," intended to host some 70 weddings per year. This did not sit well with the residents of this otherwise quiet, horse-friendly neighborhood. This, by the way, is the same neighborhood that successfully fought the Tanque Verde Unified School District's efforts to utilize the $12 million afforded by the Arizona State Facilities Board to build a high school in their midst, on a nearby, Loop-adjacent property formerly known as the MK Ranch. 

Not a group to be taken lightly.

 

The Tanque Verde Valley grows 'em SMART and ACTIVE, and through a vociferous community effort led by neighbor Diana Jones, efforts stopped the Fazios in their tracks not once, but twice.

Per Jones:

“After a (VERY) long Board of Adjustments hearing, the board voted to uphold the Chief Zoning Inspector's decision that Fazio's plan appeared to be more of a business than a church.

A BIG THANK YOU to everyone who wrote letters (about 50), attended (about 90), signed petitions (about 650), and donated in any form! I know everyone who supports us couldn't be there, and some who came couldn't stay for the 4 1/2 hours, but every one of you count!

Please join us this Saturday, June 13th @ 7 pm to hear Kevin's band play & visit with neighbors. More info to follow.

Your neighbor, Diana Jones”

Never underestimate the power of community organization. Congratulations to the Loop neighborhood. May your days continue to be filled with the peace of the Lord.

N, NNNNNNNNNNNNNN! A Thousand Times N!

Mac Laptop Users, I ask you: Which letter on your keyboard is the most worn out?

I ask because I have two Macs made of the most current material. One is a Powerbook G4, which I keep because of some non-transferrable software; and one on which I currently type, a MacBook Pro. This laptop is about 13 months old. And I use it daily. The other one is, uh, older. I don’t know how old exactly, but that’s not important. What’s important for this topic is that on both, the most used (i.e. worn away) key is the N key.

If I were a horse, I’d say: “Nnnnnnnnnneigh.”

What’s UP with the N-key? Is it the N-word of the keyboard world? Is it because for old home row-method typists like myself the N-key is an index-finger key?  We all know the index finger may not be the most expressive, but it’s by far the strongest. And then again I wonder, is it because I’m right handed? Or is it because the N-key is so much more popular than my other right-handed index keys (H,J,Y,U and I).

I had to close my eyes and type those keys. And in doing so, I realized, there’s no way I could recite the letters of a keyboard and/or tell anyone which fingers touch which keys. It’s totally a rote-mind/finger thing.

I wonder, do my daughters feel the same way about their texting fingers touching their cell phone keys as I feel about my laptop keys? Is anyone teaching a texting efficiency class, or do keyboards just come naturally to children born in the mid-Nineteen Nineties???

 

Because I’m a SCRABBLE player, it occurred to me to consider the value of each of the 26 letters of the English alphabet and, of course, it’s no surprise that the oft-used N tile is worth only one point. So are all the vowels. Other consonants worth one point are  L, R, S and T.

So far, my 13-month-old computer is R and T clear . . . however, S is a wee bit worn. The L-key is definitely showing some signs of abuse, but it’s nothing compared to the N. Nope. (Even M—N’s next door neighbor—is looking far shabbier). And each of these cheap Scrabble letters, particularly the S, is ssssssssssorry and sssssssssad on the Powerbook G4.

So what’s the bottom line?

The bottom row of my keyboard has nothing where the N should be. And I have No point. Not really. . .

. . . Nuts.

Local Author Pens Another Winner

By Joyce Laabs
Features Editor

Summer resident Michele Van Ort Cozzens, who with her husband, Mike, owns and operates the Sandy Point Resort in Lac du Flambeau, has written another winner.

It's Not Your Mother's Bridge Club (McKenna Publishing Group) is set in the Rattlesnake Valley, a desert community in southern Arizona. (The Cozzens make their winter home in Tucson).

It’s the story of the members of "The Snake Eyes Dice Club" - eight middle-aged women who try to meet monthly to play Bunko. For many in the club this represents their only social outing.

The members: Sylvia, Brandy, Tootsie, Chloe, Amanda, Blanca, Tara and the narrator of all that happens, Shonah.

Members take turns hosting the monthly meetings, and preparing is quite a production in itself. There are also rules: No men or children allowed; and no drink counters.

The reader sees each woman evolve as they meet the challenges in their lives. We learn of their joys and frustrations through their own words.

Although Cozzens has been a member of a bunko group in Arizona for several years, she insists the ladies of the Snake Eyes Dice Club, are all products of her imagination - and that is good - for most members of the club border on dysfunctional - but perhaps if you dig deep enough in any person's life you will find most dysfunction in some area.

We loved the book, and empathized with each and every member of the club; and what a diverse group - from the very wealthy to just making ends meet - from obsessively scheduled to "living free" - from social drinker to alcoholic - they all had their unique characteristics.

Through their conversations at bunko parties and intimate thoughts on their relationships with members of the club, revealed by Cozzens' pen, the women come alive, and you will probably recognize someone you know.

Shonah, whose childhood friend founded the club, gave up her journalistic dreams when she married, but keeps a piece of it alive as a columnist for the local newspaper. Each chapter begins with a quote from her column titled "The Dice Club Chronicles."

I'm not sure I would have liked to have been a member of this particular bunko club - much too stressful for what is supposed to be a fun night with the girls - but it makes for a really great read.

There is another plus - you learn bunko.

The 240-page soft cover book sells for $19.95, and can be purchased at the gift shop at Sandy Point Resort or through amazon.com.

Five dollars from the sale of each book are donated to "Bunko for Breast Cancer" chapters across America for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.

Cozzens is a soccer mom, jewelry-designer and resort owner; married to the man of her dreams. They have two daughters, and as we said, divide their time between Northern Wisconsin and Tucson, Ariz.

Joyce Laabs can be reached at
features@lakelandtimes.com

No One Loves Your Dog As Much As YOU!

We have a dog. She’s a six-pound, longhaired Chihuahua. How do you spell A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E? If you’re a dog lover, it’s hard not to adore Cinco at first sight. If she further blesses you with a sniff and offers the opportunity to pet her, the word L-O-V-E may even form in your mind.

If Cinco doesn’t like you—say you’re another four-legged bitch threatening her family, or she just doesn’t fancy the smell of you—you may find her yappy bark quite annoying. We get it. No one loves their dogs more than their owners. Some dog owners love their pets SO much they’re simply blind to anything that may cause others to be annoyed.

 

We used to live in the San Francisco Bay Area. At the time, in the city of Berkeley, there wasn’t a STOP sign in town that didn’t have an additional message spray-painted below it. “STOP War;” “STOP Abuse;” “STOP Racism;” etc. Because of this, I remember not being the least bit surprised about finding graffiti on nearly every public sign in the East Bay. One I remember particularly well was in a public park. The sign read: “ALL DOGS MUST BE ON LEASH.” And the spray paint below it read: “This includes YOUR dog!”

So often people believe the rules don’t apply to them. Specifically in the case of dog owners, many are so sure their dog is the most well trained—the best-behaved dog ever—that a leash isn’t necessary. These are the same owners who simply don’t hear their dog barking incessantly at all hours of the day, whether they’re inside ignoring the barking, or away all day, neglecting the ‘best-behaved dog ever.’

As resort owners who happen to love dogs, we want to provide a facility that allows dogs. We’ve tried. Over the years, 17 to be exact, we’ve had to tweak the dog policy to make it work for us; however, I’ve come to believe no one reads policies in advance. They only read them after they leave, and only if they have a reason.

The reason would be, of course, because we kept the dog deposit.

 We currently don’t charge for dogs. We only charge a deposit. The deposit is refundable, unless there are violations to our policy. I can count the number of times we’ve found it necessary to keep a dog deposit. Most—repeat MOST—owners are highly responsible in picking up after their pets. There is virtually no sign that a dog was on property, indoors or out, after they’ve left.

Unfortunately, there are and will always be exceptions. And it’s the less responsible dog owners that ruin it for the rest. When the offending dog owner further proclaims we are completely unfair or unjustified in keeping the deposit and goes as far as to issue threats such as: We’re never coming back and we’re telling ALL our friends to never go to Sandy Point;” well, we have to put them in our “People Can be Jerks” file and move on.

But it also means we have to change the policy. We simply don’t like being put in the same awkward/difficult situation more than twice and being the kind of people who learn from our experiences, we once again find the need to change our dog policy.

Yesterday I searched for websites of other resorts that allow dogs and nearly every one I found charges a fee. It costs us $150 to fly with Cinco (and there’s NO clean-up required by placing her soft crate under the seat in front of us). Every hotel we stay at for weekend soccer tournaments that actually allows dogs has a fee as well.  So, our research has shown that Sandy Point is unique for two reasons: 1. It still allows pets and 2. It doesn’t charge a fee.

Time to get with the program.

We only allow dogs in the shoulder/off-seasons. This will still be the case. But now there will be a fee in ADDITION to the damage deposit. We don’t want owners to think just because they’re paying for the privilege of bringing their dog that they don’t have to clean up after their best friend as well.

And if we feel the need to keep the cleaning/damage deposit, I guarantee you, we are justified in doing so. If it means you’ll never come back to Sandy Point with your barking, shedding, clawing dogs . . . good.

Showbiz Kidz Danz Bunco Fundraiser

Are you looking for a chance to win $1,000? This is a fun opportunity for bunco enthusiasts to play the game they enjoy, raise money for a talented group of kids, meet new people and have fun!

The nonprofit group ShowBiz Kidz Danz Booster Club is hosting a Bunco Championship in Tucson on Saturday, June 27 at 3:00 p.m. Entry fee is $25 and the grand prize for the dice-rolling champion is $1,000. There will be live entertainment, food and drinks available.

If you don’t know how to play bunco, organizer Kathy Renteria is offering a “Bunco Bootcamp” at 2:45. Since bunco is one of the easiest games to learn, boot camp won’t be a painful experience. If you can count to six, you can play bunco.

The event takes place at the Junior League, 2099 E. River Road, just east of the intersection of River and Campbell.

 

According to Renteria, ShowBiz Kidz Danz is a community dance program offering more than 40 classes in pom, hip-hop, ballet, jazz, technique, break dancing, lyrical, tap and competitive dance teams. "Moms" classes such as strength and conditioning, adult hip hop and “praise” dance classes are also available.

ShowBiz began in 2001 and currently has some 400 students. “The owner, Jennifer Barton, can name every single one of those 400 students,” says Renteria. Mrs. Barton is also the dance instructor at Marana High School and has over 19 years of teaching experience. She prides herself in offering quality instruction at a lower price and provides scholarships to those in need.

“It is our belief that all children who want to dance should have the opportunity,” says Renteria. “It's not just about dance. It's about lifelong friendships, the confidence that dancers build, teamwork, responsibility and dedication.”

Reminds me a bit of what it’s like to be part of a bunco group.

 

Showbiz Kidz Danz is located at 6906 Camino Martin, Tucson, AZ. It has two small lobbies and four rehearsal studios. The main dance studio features over 1,000 square feet of hardwood floors with 8-foot mirrors along one side. Other rooms are available for tap and ballet. There is also a small homework room for the students to study in between dance classes.

According to Renteria, the Bunco Championship fundraiser on June 27 will help with competition fees, costumes and traveling expenses for dancers. They travel to Phoenix and California for monthly competitions and are hoping to travel to Florida, Texas or Las Vegas for other competitions.

Vendor booths at the event include: Avon, Partylite Candles, Gold Canyon Candles, Lia Sophia Jewelry, Sashay Jewelry, Gift Basket Creations, Amparo's jewelry, Pampered Chef, Arbonne Health and Wellness, Natural Health Chair Massages and more.

For more information contact Kathy Renteria at kathyrenteria@comcast.net

The Business Needs Some Botox

We have highway road arrows leading to our business, Sandy Point Resort. They are at least 15 years old. Sporting black and white paint wrinkles and withered lettering, they’ve aged more than I—at least physically. Today, I decided, they needed a few shots of Botox.

We have two sets of road arrows steering State Hwy. 70 traffic to our resort and disc golf course—those facing east and those facing west. Over the years they’ve attracted a phenomenal amount of business. Almost daily during our high season we have wayward travelers coming into the pro shop asking everything from “where’s the DISCOUNT golf course” to “what’s DISCO golf?” Also, on a weekly basis, we find enthusiastic disc golfers at our door, who “never knew” there was a course here and couldn’t believe it when they saw our arrows.

Pretty important signage, don’t you think?


Mike and I made the six-foot arrows ourselves. He sawed the wood and I painted the white background, cut out and traced the letters from type I printed from the computer, and hand-painted with black enamel paint and a very steady hand. Mike would have hung them if the Wisconsin Department of Transportation had allowed it, but mere mortal men aren’t allowed to hang highway signs.

The government required we drive the arrows about 30 miles away to the nearest county hub, drop them off, and have professionals put them in place. It took weeks. But back then, when we lived here year round, we could afford the time. Perhaps it’s not surprising that we didn’t enlist government help for the cosmetic surgery required today.

I woke up this morning knowing today was the day. The sun was shining, all our cabins were clean and ready for the guests, and it was a designated maintenance day. I drove to the arrow site, less than a mile from our house, parked, and painted the west-facing arrows on site. Using a ladder to reach them and sporting what my teenager called “MOM JEANS” and a blaze orange cap, I wasn’t cute. Cars didn’t honk and wave; however, two cars did stop to ask directions while I worked on the arrows exposed to the west.

It was awkward and the conditions were far from perfect. I admit I did a half-assed job. I assured myself, however, that the Sandy Point motto (WHERE GOOD ENOUGH IS) applied.

BTW: The counterpart set of arrows some 400 ft. away on the opposite site of the highway and exposed to the east, were in FAR greater need of repair. There was no way I could give them a proper facelift on site. Without question, they had to be removed and bought back to my workshop for more serious microderm abrasion and Botox injections.

Baby, the morning sun when it’s in your face really shows your age.


Last summer, when we first noticed the arrows had grown tired, we couldn’t dedicate the hours needed to refurbish them. We didn’t want to take them down and miss the business that directed drivers off the Hwy. and into our den of income. For about a minute, I considered driving my golf cart to the highway and making a paint-in-hand house call. Mike even thought it would be good for business if I donned my special red bikini.

Don’t laugh. I gave it some thought.

As is usually the case, the season passed by so quickly, and the road arrows were left on the 2008’s backburner. But upon my 2009 return and like being fed up with too many gray hairs on an otherwise attractive middle-aged head, I simply had to go into makeover mode. I put on the blaze orange cap and the Mom Jeans, and broke out a little Road-Arrow-Loreal.

The business was worth it.

Ultimately, like a good dye job or a few Botox injections, we—the proud owners of the prettiest resort in the Northwoods—are probably the only ones who will notice the improvements.

I Have a Crush on my UPS Man

And I’ve just admitted it. Not only in the headline of this blog, but also to his face.

Does anyone share a similar experience? Have you had the same UPS deliveryman for 17 years? Have you had a guy drive a big, brown truck down your quarter-mile-long driveway on a regular basis, who on some days is your only visitor? Has he seen you through two pregnancies? Has he helped you fix your lawn mower? Have you bet on him to win the annual “who-can-wear-shorts-the-longest-into the-the winter” contest? Has he read every book you’ve ever written and told you about the campfire discussion that ensued about your characters while on his Canadian vacation?

My UPS driver’s name is Robin. And Robin he most certainly is. He may not be the caped-crusader; but he may as well be the Batman of the delivery world. He’s certainly my deliveryman hero. Rhinelander Robin is the skinny-legged, shorts-wearing Brown deliveryman who is so pleasant, he MAKES me want to order things from Internet websites and more civilized places than the Northwoods, just to have them delivered.

 

I encountered Robin today for the first time this season when I happened into the kitchen after being hauled up in my office for two hours. I was taking advantage of generator power to do my paperwork, a daily necessity to run our resort business. This afternoon, one of exaggeratedly high winds, we’ve experienced a lengthy power-outage on property.  The power is still out, and we’re not sure why other than suspecting the wind and the ominous smell of smoke wafting into our windows from the other side of the lake.  Because of the noise of the generator, I didn’t hear the brown truck pull up.

Usually I sense the diesel-fueled wheels like Radar from M*A*S*H sensing choppers. Not this afternoon. I had gone downstairs to get something to drink and before opening the fridge, heard a yell. Given we have no guests in the cabins and only a handful of disc golfers on the course, the yell wasn’t very alarming. But nonetheless, I looked out the kitchen window and saw him.

Glancing to the right of our yard, sure enough, there was the big brown truck. “Robin!” I squealed. I ran to and opened the front door without checking my hair or my teeth—and soon realized I was wearing my schoolmarm glasses. And there he was wearing shorts and a smile. “Hi!” I said with all the fanfare of greeting an American Idol.

His smile was that of a teenager instead of a middle-aged man. “You’re here,” he said. He gave me the once over and flashed an approving grin. “I’ve been walking all around because I need a signature for this package.”  He nodded to my right.

The delivery was stored on the table sitting on our front porch. It was the box of jewelry I had just packaged and shipped from Tucson, and tried to insure for ten grand, but didn’t because it was too expensive. Briefly examining at the well-taped box, I was happy to see it in excellent condition—definitely worth the $160 gamble I didn’t spend to add extra insurance.

As I sighed with relief, Robin took a second to look me up and down again. “Did you just get back?”

“A day or so,” I replied, camouflaging my blush. “I didn’t hear your truck because the generator’s on. We’ve had no power for a while. . . .” I shifted my weight . . . “Hi, Robin. Gosh, it’s good to see you.”

“You too!” he said. And then he hugged me, pulled back and looked me up and down for a third time. “You don’t age a bit, do you?”

From a man who’s known me for 17 years and seen me through two pregnancies, I KNEW that was a compliment. So I paid him one back.

“Oh Robin,” I said, “Am I the only girl in Wisconsin who has a crush on her UPS man?”

With that comment, he handed me the electronic clipboard and requested my signature. “Welcome back,” he said.

Then his skinny, shorts-wearing bottom bounded back to his vehicle and the rumble of a diesel-fueled engine filled our driveway. Hence, Robin and his big brown trunk ambled down Sandy Point Lane.  For tonight.

Holy deliveryman, I know he’ll be back tomorrow.