The world's largest musical fountain. |
GRAND HAVEN – We first visited Grand Haven back in 1999 when
the newspaper was interviewing me for a post it was creating in the lakeshore
city, and I brought the family out there to check it out.
It was a stunning early summer afternoon, and the place was
spectacular, with a trendy downtown, a beach, docks and an unusual two-part
light house on a long jetty extending into Lake Michigan.
The waterfront was packed, with families having fun and many
of them sunning on blankets and towels. We were working in Flint at the time,
and remarked that if that many people were found lying on the ground in that
city, there would be someone drawing chalk outlines around them. Flint is a
rough place.
The newspaper opted against the Grand Haven plan, but hired
us anyway. But Grand Haven has always been a fun place to visit.
Which is not to say it is without some challenges or danger.
Today’s bad postcard tells us about one of them: The Musical
Fountain.
The back reads: World’s Largest Musical Fountain – Great plumes
of water, reaching as high as 100 feet, dance and flow into a myriad of spectacular
patterns and colors in perfect time with some of the world’s greatest musical
compositions. The thrilling performances are held every evening all summer
long.”
Now, there are some very nice postcards of the fountain.
Most of them are in focus. This is not one of those cards.
The fountain was created in 1962. We've attended two of its
shows. Here’s what happens. A voice booms from the speakers, and is the
fountain talking to us. Sometimes it sounds like a grown-up, sometimes it
sounds like a kid.
Then music plays, and lights flash on the fountain as water
spurts.
It was interesting for about 15 minutes, because there are
only so many combinations of lights and water. Our problem that night was that
the playlist seemed like it was the one used in 1962 and aimed people where senior
citizens -- at the time.
We’re talking “Volare,” that Polish Bobby Vinton song and other
stuff that Rockford plays from the speakers downtown to drive away the
skateboarders.
We collectively decided that we, having once watched the
singing fountain, did not have to ever see it again. Caroline and I caught it another
time, and the playlist was pretty similar.
Doing some research, it appears we were just unlucky,
because a fountain schedule posted online tells you which songs are planned for
each night, and there are some nights where they mix in a classic rock song and
even some Coldplay.
We headed back out to Grand Haven on Saturday for some
late-summer fun. It was again a perfect day, with an art fair along the water,
and the main drag closed so merchants could have tents and sales up and down
the street.
Here’s where things get dangerous. We purchased a ceramic
switch plate at the art fair, then a bottle of wine in an Italian shop. Both
were placed in one bag, entrusted to me. I was cautioned many times not to
break either one.
Julie and Caroline were looking in a clothes store and I
went in search of a restroom. There’s a pretty nice museum downtown – selling Grand
Have Zombie Walk t-shirts for just 50 cents – and museums usually have
restrooms.
I took care of business and checked out the musk ox exhibit
on the third floor and was heading back down the stairs when a little girl
darted out in front, out of nowhere.
I don’t know why this startled me, but it did. I missed a
step and started to fall, clinging to the banister with my right hand and
holding the bag with the breakables in my left.
It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. I
hit my face on the wall, the banister or a step – maybe all three – and ended
up on my back on the bottom of the landing, head hitting the floor with a
thump.
My thoughts ranged from “Ouch this hurts,” to “I didn't hear
anything in the bag break” to “If I have a concussion; people are going to
think I’m going to be dangerous like an ex-football player” to “This is
embarrassing.” It’s amazing how quickly
things run through your mind in just a few seconds like that.
I think I scared the little kid and her dad, who were kind
and concerned – but didn't help me up. Assuring them that all was well, I
headed down the second set of stairs, passing a museum staffer.
“What’s going on up there?” she asked.
“I think someone fell,” I replied.
Just a little dizzy, I made it back to the clothes store
where Caroline was trying on a dress and flip flops.
Caroline and I at the light house post fall. We survived. |
I’m a little banged up. There’s a big blister on a finger
from trying to hold on to the banister, and my lower back aches a little –
which made the hard pews in church a tad more uncomfortable.
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