No. 730 – Angry Eyes

Performer: Loggins & Messina

Songwriters: Kenny Loggins, Jim Messina

Original Release: Loggins and Messina

Year: 1972

Definitive Version: Any one that isn’t edited.

When I visited Laurie over Memorial Day weekend 2005, I drove in on a Saturday, because I had a game Friday night. I arrived downtown in time to see Laurie perform in Estrogen Fest, which she and several friends had been planning and organizing since the winter.

The really cool thing about it was the Trib did a feature story on it and featured a huge picture of the final skit—the part where Laurie has a monologue and is standing over about 20 other people on stage. So, really, the whole picture was of her. I found it online a week before, and she was pretty geeked to see it when I sent her the link.

The show was at about 5, and afterwards, several of her friends who came to see the show went out for drinks. Laurie declined their invitation to join them, which was odd, because we ALWAYS went out after a performance.

When we got back to her place, I hauled up my computer bag and duffel bag for the weekend, and went and sat down on the couch in her living room in anticipation of a little pre-dinner conversation as per usual. She asked, “Since you’re not going to be here next weekend, do you mind if we celebrate your birthday this weekend?”

I wasn’t expecting anything, but, sure, that’s cool.

“OK. Get your stuff.”

“You mean my jacket?” which I had removed.

“No. Get everything.”

Ahhh … OK … where are we going?

When we got on the Kennedy heading South, I knew we weren’t flying anywhere, but I had no idea what was up. Before long we were roaring through the top of Indiana, which led to a flood of old Harbor Country News stories. I told Laurie about working there for a year and all the cool stuff I discovered, like Redamak’s. (And there’s the billboard now …)

Then, the next thing I knew after we cross the Michigan border, we turned off at Exit 6—Union Pier. Are we having dinner someplace here? That’s cool. Laurie said nothing more, until we ended up parked at a place called Firefly.

“Here we are!”

It turns out that Laurie had rented a room for the weekend in what was a cross between a bed-and-breakfast and a cottage. We had No. 7, which was a self-contained unit that had a kitchen, a fireplace and screened-in porches front and back. That night, she had brought some cheese and a bottle of Silver Oak, which she knew I liked (and hadn’t had due to my financial situation for a few years). What a surprise!

But the funny thing was, Laurie had wanted to surprise me with a trip, and it turned out that I was essentially tour guide, showing her all over the place as though I had lived there, which, of course, I had. My old apartment building was still there, although Lyssa was long gone.

We hit Redamak’s, which was probably the first time I had been in, well, I don’t know how long; it had to have been at least a decade. It was still the same, thank goodness. We also were introduced to a place that had opened just after I left in 1988—Oink’s. If it isn’t the best ice-cream scoopery in the world, it has to be in the top three.

The Firefly was about three blocks from stairs down to the public beach at Union Pier and we went there one day (and the bustling New Buffalo beach—first time I had been there in 17 years—another). While we hiked the beach one morning, Laurie found a piece of beach rock or concrete that had washed up ashore. I hadn’t noticed.

Later that day, Laurie was insistent on finding a store that sold beads so she could get some twine. We found such a store, around the corner from my old apartment as a matter of fact, and out of nowhere she presented me the stone on the piece of twine as a special birthday gift. She was expecting me to put it around my rearview mirror or something, but I’ve worn it like a necklace (with numerous twine replacements) ever since.

We were going to head back to Chicago Monday—like everyone else—but first we did some antiquing along Red Arrow Highway, driving all the way up to Sawyer (Exit No. 12). It was on that drive that I heard this song for the first time. I couldn’t believe it: Who knew that Kenny Loggins, the King of Pap, could jam it out like this? I’m guessing Messina had a lot to do with that.

We’ve returned to Harbor Country for a weekend of fun and sun (and Redamak’s and Oink’s) twice since, but that first time in 2005 remains the best birthday surprise I’ve ever had and one of the best birthdays, too.