Top 5 Things I Miss About Grand Rapids, MI

You don’t know what you’ve got until its gone, right?  For some this curious moment slips in subtly, slowly underneath the skin.  The feeling, of course, swept through me when I moved from Michigan to New York City.  Though, not so subtly.  In fact, it was pretty clear-cut.  Below are five obvious things I miss about Grand Rapids, MI (that I can’t get in NYC).


Although jobs in Michigan are few and far in between, sweet-ass apartments are not.  In fact, amazing, affordable, awesome apartments are abundant (alliterate am I), especially in Grand Rapids.  Before moving to NYC, Meggie and I had the entire top floor of a massive, historical home built in 1898.  On the top floor we had a bedroom with a balcony overlooking the front, tree-lined street, a second spare bedroom with ample office space, a large living room, a dining room, a self-contained kitchen, a tiled bathroom, a mud room (Michigander talk for entryway), laundry in the basement, and a back stairway leading to a two-tiered, backyard deck, a small lawn and garden, a driveway and a two car garage for good measure.  At how much you ask???  Don’t shit yourself.  $650.00/month.  And I don’t mean a person.  $650 total for the upstairs place.

Now I don’t need to go into detail about my living environs here in NYC, except our place is hardly half the size of our GR apartment and we share it with three other people.  Oh, and we pay $2000 for it… god damn I miss GR.


I have a small list of bars in NYC I like to frequent, but it took a long time to compile this list.  Anyone that knows a thing about PK knows the only criteria I have for a good watering hole is affordability.  And spank my ass with a wet hand if I wasn’t spoiled rotten by Grand Rapids before moving out East.  I yearn badly for those Monday night, $2.50 pitchers of PBR at The Meanwhile, or the $2 happy hour of any micro brew pint at Founders on Tuesdays.  I’ll admit for the record, and for means of comparison, that on one occasion a Manhattan waitress at a shitty karaoke bar charged me $20 for a pitcher of Coors.  $20 bucks?!?!  I never wanted to beat the living shit out of a woman so badly, but alas, that kind of horse play is typically frowned upon, even by me.


No chilly-cheese dog in NYC has come remotely close to the sloppy goodness of a yesterdog dog.  Certainly the first place I’m hitting up the next time I roll into GR (then the Pita House across the street).


The story of PK and TeeCoZee is sort of a sad one.  The summer leading up to the big move out East, I hung out a lot with Roscoe and TeeCoZee.  In fact, if I had to give that summer a title, it would be:  The Summer of Roscoe or perhaps  Independence Day is Melting Holy Hell I Feel Funny Man.  But that’s another story.  Anyway, during the Summer of Roscoe, TeeCoZee and I had some rockin’ times.  The sick, tragic part of it all is that we really didn’t fully connect until days before I left for NYC.  My impending move only days away and both of us, nearly in the same moment, realized the potential our friendship yields.  I look forward to the day when we live in the same city again, and very sorry for those caught in our way (many will die).


Ha!  No… I’m just kidding folks.  This place sucks, don’t ever go there.  Ever.