Author: Pointes of View

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The August List

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Our vacation rental on Walloon Lake.

1) Northern Michigan (aka Up North) is to Detroiters, as Tahoe is to San Franciscans. I blame Northern Michigan for my blog lull, by the way. We’ve been back over a week and I still can’t get out of vacation mode.

2) Most gnats inhaled on an evening run: four.

3) Nevermind gnats. Whatup spiders? Unless you spray (which we don’t), they are everywhere. I walk through at least one web per day, usually in the morning before I’ve had coffee (letting the dog out). Creeps me out every time, even though I’m expecting it.

4) The guy at Trader Joe’s asked me if I just moved here (they always check my ID, which still says California). He’s from Santa Rosa. He said, “You know what you won’t be able to find out here….good Chinese food.” Yep.

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American Spoon

5) Speaking of food, the best meal I’ve had since I moved was in Petoskey (Up North territory) at a great spot called American Spoon. As I was enjoying my not-greasy whitefish sandwich and potato salad with snap peas and mint (I miss you, San Francisco!), I fell in love with the paint color. Which miraculously they had on file. Which unfortunately is either a mistake or no longer exists, because I cannot find it anywhere, at least not under the brand name they gave me. Waaaahhhh!

6) Yes, you did just see my kid sitting on a pink potty. In the back of my SUV. In the library parking lot.

7) When school starts in Grosse Pointe, summer is officially o-VER. Pools close, restaurants shorten hours, traffic laws change (no right turn on red). In San Francisco, there is no official end of summer. In fact, summer is just getting started (September and October are two of its most gorgeous months).

8) Finding the perfect paint color for the foyer suddenly seems ridiculous and embarrassing when you are waiting for your Italian sub at Which-Wich and start reading the headlines of the newspaper tacked to the walls. Ugh.

sign9) A lawn sign you will never find in San Francisco (above). For one thing, no one has a lawn in San Francisco, but that’s not really the point. Lawn signs are big here. There’s one in front of our new house right now, actually, that the painters put up.

10) Need to get back on your feet, Detroit? Start charging for stuff! It’s free to park anywhere on Belle Isle and admission to the aquarium and conservatory are free (in SF, prices are $35 and $5, respectively). Residents also get a free ride to the DIA museum (at the SF MOMA, it’s $18). A couple weeks ago I parked at St. John’s for a doctor’s appointment. It’s a huge Detroit hospital, as big as San Francisco General. Free parking. (In SF, you’d pay $6.00 – $12.00 easy for the shortest doctor visit).

11) When the guys at Benjamin Moore say, “Bye, see you soon!” as you’re leaving, it’s time to decide on a paint color already.

12) When you start giving other Benjamin Moore patrons color advice, it’s time to pack it up and go home. (Although she did say the creamy white I suggested was exactly what she was looking for. Boo-yeah.)

 

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Meet Tim, Wallpaper Remover Extraordinaire

IMG_7843 (600x800) It’s hard not to talk about our new house without bringing up the wallpaper. It was the first thing you saw when you came in. If it didn’t take your breath away, it certainly surprised you. And it was everywhere. Throughout the entryway, up the staircase, down the upstairs hallway. There was no question we were going to get rid of it. And there was no question who we were going to use: Tim Heidt, wallpaper removal extraordinaire. (There are people out there whose only job is to remove wallpaper? If you have to ask, you’ve never been to Grosse Pointe).

homes.wallpaperI begin my conversation with Tim by asking how he got started. He looks at me curiously, wondering what I mean. I say I’m sure as a little kid he didn’t dream about someday owning a wallpaper removal company. He smiles (as he does many times during our short interview) and says, “well…and I don’t tell everyone this…”(I hold my breath, waiting for the juicy details) “…I used to be a special ed teacher.” Oh. The old, I didn’t make enough as a teacher story. We’ve all heard it before and too many times.

So Tim the special ed teacher with two masters degrees needed to make some extra money. He started working for a painting contractor, removing wallpaper (of course). There was so much work to be done in the world of wallpaper removal that eventually he quit his teaching job and branched off on his own.

IMG_7845 (600x800)Twenty-eight years later, the business is still going strong. I tell him everyone I talk to knows who he is. Realtors, painters, builders, friends. Whenever the subject of wallpaper comes up, people say, “You using Tim?” or “You have to use Tim Heidt. He’s the best.”

He smiles, nodding in agreement. He tells me why he has such a good reputation. “Three things,” he says. Timeliness. Cleanliness. Fairness. He could probably raise his prices (he could. I’ve done online comparisons), but he’s always tried to be fair and it’s clear he’s proud of that. Also, even though he could expand the business, he wants it to stay small. Being an absentee owner is not on the agenda.

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Matt, working on the first floor bathroom.

We continue talking as he and his assistant Matt prep the walls with glue-eating enzymes (or something). The solution breaks up the wallpaper paste and turns it into what it was before – “icky gooey stuff,” in Tim’s words. Am I going to interview Matt, too?, Tim asks, chuckling. He’s getting a kick out of this interview thing. Um, sure. This is Matt’s third year working for Tim’s Wallpaper Removal. What he enjoys most about the job is traveling around the Detroit area and getting to see a new environment every day.

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Gone.

My final question for both of them: What’s “in” for walls? Matt says he’s seeing a lot of florals and earth tones. Tim says wallpaper is out. But he’s quick to add that wallpaper is much like miniskirts and bell-bottom trousers – it’ll come back. People choose wallpaper because it’s a medium that creates an effect you just can’t duplicate with paint. As I take a last look at the big, bold flowers covering the entryway, I have to agree. Part of me is sad to see it go (but not to worry, I’ve kept the remnants in the basement. Just in case).

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In Search of Coffee, Part III: Astro Coffee

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Looking towards downtown Detroit.

A couple Fridays ago when the girls were with a sitter, I drove to Corktown, Detroit’s oldest neighborhood (though, as Wikipedia points out, the actual city of Detroit is much older) located on the west side of the city. Originally occupied by Irish immigrants in the mid 1800s (most from County Cork, hence the name). At the end of the decade, Maltese immigrants came through, and in the early 1900s, Mexicans.

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Central Station, Corktown.

This up-and-coming neighborhood (according to various news articles I’ve read, most recently in The New York Magazine’s “Post-Post Apocalyptic Detroit”) is a hot spot for cool restaurants (including the always-crowded Slows Bar BQ), clubs, retail stores and yes, a coffee shop in the form of Astro Coffee, which opened three summers ago. Astro Coffee lies at the edge of Corktown, kitty-corner from the abandoned Michign Central Station.

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The 2100 block of Michigan Avenue (Astro Coffee is housed in the green building).

I was really excited to finally visit Astro Coffee. We tried as a family to pop in one Saturday, but a sign on the door told us they were closed for a week-long holiday. This particular stretch of Michigan Avenue was quite busy with business lunchers and some families at Slows and Mercury Bar across the street. As I walked by the front window, I noticed the Ritual Coffee (from San Francisco) sign, which made me both happy and unsure (I have mixed feelings about Ritual. It’s a long story).

IMG_7757 (580x800)Inside, there were some pastry and cookie selections up front, with daily sandwiches (which the flies seemed to enjoy, even with the mesh domes meant to keep them out) along the side counter. I ordered a cappuccino and a sage shortbread cookie.

IMG_7756 (785x800)The clientele was what one would expect. There was the usual one or two people on laptops at the back communal table, a couple regulars at the bar area, a few business folks ordering cups to go. I sat at the counter facing the street. The guy behind me was talking to a friend about such and such picking up his new TV show (yawn) and the older couple next to them were tourists (I’m guessing. They were speaking French).

IMG_7762 (800x800)So what about the coffee? you ask. Delicious! It was full-bodied, and bitter the right way. The crema was thick and creamy and I can’t remember, but I don’t think I needed sugar. The cookie was served on a pretty little vintage plate. It was quite sweet and the sage tasted suspiciously like rosemary, but hey. I was there for the coffee.

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Meet Tim, the Color Expert

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My bad on the blurry photo. This is maybe the second or third time I’ve ever asked a “stranger” if I could take their photo (my introverted self applauds my bravery and excuses my poor photography. Hope you will, too).

Meet Tim, the color expert at Shelby Paint (the local Benjamin Moore store). We met at the new house yesterday to finalize colors for the walls.

But first, lets turn back time a couple weeks. I was in the thick of researching, reviewing and setting up appointments with various contractors and was starting to doubt my ability to make decisions (when you’re talking about spending large sums of money, you want to get things right. Or at least close).

My (exasperated?) husband suggested hiring an interior designer, which pretty much everyone does here. And they are everywhere. Seriously, I have seen more interior decorator/design shops and businesses here per square mile than….well, at least than any other place I’ve lived. After giving it a lot of thought, I agreed we should go ahead and take money out of the home improvement budget and hire someone. However.

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Our “office.”

My gut didn’t really want to go that route. So I called up my friend and former roommate Liz for her take on the matter. She completely changed my mind, arguing that so many places nowadays will provide design help for free or for a small fee that you can put towards goods or services (upholstery shops, furniture stores, paint stores, carpet places). And, she said, do you want to spend $150 an hour for someone to show you paint samples? No. You have a good aesthetic, she said. You can do this.

Really what she did wasn’t change my mind. I already knew what I wanted to do (or not do, in this case). I just needed someone to believe in me. Before I spoke to her, I felt so overwhelmed and stressed by all of it – the scheduling, the interviewing, the decision-making. After I got it into my head that I could do it, I just got it done. Bing bang boom. Funny how that works.

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Nantucket Gray, dining room.

One of the calls I made was to Shelby Paint. For just $90 ($50 of which you get back in the form of a gift card), a “color expert” will meet with you and help you pick out a color (or in my case, colors) for your project. Bam.

Flash forward to yesterday. How did you end up being a color expert?, I ask Tim. He tells me he started out in sales at another paint shop in town (which has since closed) in the early ’80s. One day his boss asked him if he’d be interested in helping a friend of his pick a color for his office (or house? Drat, I wasn’t taking good notes at this point). He goes over and helps the guy out. Then down the line, he helps another guy out and another, and pretty soon it becomes a regular thing.

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Athena, entryway and living room. (photo via homebunch.com)

After the shop closed, he moved to his current job at Shelby Paint/Benjamin Moore. At that job interview, he brought up his color consulting abilities and wondered if he could do the same for them. At first they said no. They were skeptical about community interest. He asked for two weeks to prove himself and they agreed. In Tim’s words, “the phones kept ringing,” so he’s still there, doing what he enjoys and is good at (as I can vouch for). At one point, as he was on his hands and knees, digging through his color swatches to find what he thought was a truer gray for the master (the one I’d picked was too green), he said, “This is the fun part, this is what I love doing the most.”

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Galveston Gray, one of two possible grays for the master bedroom.

Thankfully (and because I’m awesome), most of the colors I had on my shortlist worked well with each other, so we were able to take our time narrowing them down. Tim made a couple suggestions and substitutions, for example, selecting a creamier white for trim and suggesting we paint the dining room ceiling the same color as the walls (Nantucket Gray, a very subdued gray-green that I had at the top of my list).  That’s something I would never have thought of doing, but may actually consider (and if I like it, suggest to the husband over a glass of wine. Or four).

To give me the full effect of how the dining room could make for a dramatic focal point, he closed the french doors, then walked to the front door, pretending to be a guest coming in for the first time. He walked past the dining room to the stairs…yes, he says, this could be a real “wow” moment. Especially after we replace the chandelier. Ahem. He was also interested in the other decor (paint, light fixtures, wallpaper, drapes) the previous owners had left behind. He would ask, “and are you getting rid of these drapes?” and when I affirmed, he would let out a small sigh of relief and say, “thank you” under his breath.

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Acadia White, trim.

Before he leaves, I asked him about trends. No one is using borders anymore (decorative borders that run underneath ceiling trim). People are going more neutral (Even here in Grosse Pointe? Yes, he says. People are using furniture more as accents or showpieces now). And he’s seeing lots of soft yellow. In kitchens, but also in other parts of the house. And one more thing… Wallpaper? It’s coming back.

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The July List

My previous list entries were well-received by y’all, so I’ve decided to make it a regular thing. Surely I can learn 12 new things about this town, myself and life every month? I wasn’t sure what to call them. I tried Musings, Discoveries and Observations, What I’ve Learned So Far, etc. They seemed too grandiose. So I’m simply calling it The List. Here we go.

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1) I still heart Detroit.

2) Here, I am Mrs. Martin. I will never get used to the formality. Especially with friend’s kids. My first instinct is to correct them, but instead I giggle nervously (which I’m sure makes a great first impression).

3) I finally found the 2% minority residents. They are getting their smarts on at the Grosse Pointe Park Library. Heck yes.

IMG_6700 (800x549)4) Do not get the onion rings at the Village Grille. Unless you like semi-raw onions covered in corn dog-type batter. Better yet, don’t get anything at the Village Grille.

5) I’ve discovered a way to frequent Morning Glory without having to lower my coffee standards: iced tea. I don’t think I’ve had iced tea since Oklahoma. I’ve forgotten how refreshing it is to sip iced tea on a hot day.

6) Speaking of hot weather, people here don’t realize that San Francisco is not California weather. Stop apologizing for the”mild, wet, etc” Michigan summer. It’s July and I’m not wearing a parka. I’m good.

7) Word gets around. One of my mother-in-law’s friends knew we had put an offer on our house before we even told anyone. Umm….wow. That’s pretty impressive, even for a small town. (Did I say impressive? I meant annoying).

IMG_7611 (800x800)8) Delight Bakery & Cafe has delicious scones. Really, really good. Josef’s was closed a couple weeks ago, which prompted a visit across the street to this small shop. The “cafe” part of the title is a bit misleading, as they don’t serve coffee. If I could grab a cappuccino with my buttery scone, I’d be more inclined to make it a regular stop.

9) Toilet seat covers are non-existent. Even at fancier places. I feel like I’ve been to one nondescript place that did have them (Starbucks?), but that would be the only one I’ve seen. In San Francisco, even the hole in the wall places provided you with bum protection. Glad I’ve been doing my squats.

baseball (800x800)10) My first trip to Tigers Stadium was also the girls’ first baseball game. They may have enjoyed the carousel and peanuts more than the actual game, but watching the little one cheering with the crowd? Presh.

11) Apparently, it’s okay for complete strangers to ask me where I live. As in my address. And if you don’t readily give it up, they will kindly offer their address, as if to say, now it’s your turn. Cases in point:

EXAMPLE ONE:
Trader Joe’s guy (seeing my license): So what made you move out here?
Me: My husband’s from here. Kids.
Trader Joe’s guy: Where are you guys living, here in Grosse Pointe?
Me: Yes.
TJ Guy: Whereabouts?
Me: What?
TJ Guy: What street are you on? We’re over on Charlevoix near Merriweather.

EXAMPLE TWO (Me, on my morning run)
Lady in Car: Hey!
Me: Hi
Lady in Car: Oh, you can keep running. Do you know where Carver street is?
Me: Sorry, I just moved here.
Lady in Car: Oh! Welcome to the neighborhood. What street are you on?
Me: Uhh….
Lady in Car: I’m on Ridgemont. What street are you on?

12) Speaking of street names, how do you pronounce Cadieux? Wrong! It’s CAD-joo. What about Gratiot? Wrong again. GRA-chit. One more try with Vernier? And… wrong. VUR-nur. So much for the French influence.

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Grosse Pointe Residents Request Ban On Metro Times

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Image: Grosse Pointe Patch

I woke up at 5:30am this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. So here I am, balancing my checking account, researching contractors (for the new house) and reading about Grosse Pointe. I came upon a news story published in the Detroit Free Press last month about Grosse Pointe residents wanting to ban the Metro Times, a free alternative weekly, in libraries and throughout the city.

Flashback to the late 90s. I started working at SF Weekly (San Francisco’s equivalent to the Metro Times) as advertising coordinator for the retail department. Best job ever, by the way. We had the same kinds of ads in the back of the magazine and sure, a handful of people complained but generally they left us alone. It being San Francisco and all.

 

SFWeeklyWhen I got promoted to marketing director, my office was moved to the classifieds department, which handled all the adult ads. For sure there was never a dull moment. I remember overhearing phone conversations about the definition of a hooker versus that of a prostitute (a serious conversation between a Classified employee and potential ad placer). And “back of the book” customers who came to the office with payments or in-person questions, were led to a separate, more discreet window (not paraded through the lobby). We obviously took steps to keep that section of the paper a bit….sheltered, for lack of a better word (and do you see how I used “we” there? I still feel like I’m part of that company in some way). But it paid the bills. Which meant that the editorial department could keep writing phenomenal journalism.

Back to present day. The argument that some Grosse Pointe residents (who wanted a complete ban of the weekly) made, was that in addition to advertisements for topless bars, phone sex and other promiscuous services, the tabloid promoted human trafficking. The editor in chief of the Metro Times countered by saying that the ads were “no more sexually explicit than many of the books on public library shelves.” And though the Library Board was “quick to praise” the editorial content of the Metro Times,” they voted unanimously to move the magazine behind the counter, meaning that only those 18 and over could request copies.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about this, but ultimately I side with free speech. And as one Grosse Pointer put it, “I hope the library has a big back room to handle all the potentially off-putting materials one might be aghast by in the place.”