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Detroit

The American Dream

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Okay, I don’t watch much TV, the advertisements drive me batshit for one thing. Recently, before thumbing the big, fat, turn-it-all-the-hell-off button I did see one that got me thinking, and wondering. It was an old man on a porch, my age maybe, with a young kid and the old man is lamenting how the American Dream of home ownership is, if not dead, drawing its last breath. Well, that may be the case across much of this country but it damn well ain’t the case here in Detroit.
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In Like A Lion

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It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a place with four distinct seasons. Albuquerque came closest, I guess, with its five minutes of Spring and Fall separating its bitter, mile-high Winter and its blistering, brain-melting Summer.

Back in Detroit. Think I’ve mentioned that before. Here there are four distinct seasons. Winter, overall, is hard to forget. Cold. That, along with too long, about sums up winter in Detroit. It’s been a mild one, this my first winter back but still, anything less than 60 degrees sucks.
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Fire and Rain

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The moon is nearing full. I can see it outside my bedroom window. Clear sky. Cold. Back in Detroit. Back home. Who would believe that shit?

Look down upon me, Jesus. This city is in the toilet. Is that the way it should be?

Seen fire. Seen rain. Detroit in the toilet? Yeah, kind of saw that coming. Happy about it? Maybe once upon a time ago I might have given it a thirty second laugh. Now? Not so much.

Detroit is a grand old lady brought low by greed and avarice. There are great people here. People who stayed because they had to. People who stayed because they wanted to. And those of us few who returned because we love this dirty old town, this wheel-spoke layout of a city that refuses to die despite those who stab it at every turn.
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The Silly Season

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The silly season, and 2011 as a whole, is finally nearing its end. I have severely neglected this blog over the last few months. Actually, I’ve severely neglected my writing, my TBR pile and interactions with other humans as well. The house and my Detroit adventure have been a time suck of epic proportions.

Not that I mind all that much. Well, the writing part is a bit irritating. I tend to go a little batshit when I don’t write for long periods of time.

Work on the house has progressed well, though. About half the house is wired. Friends of my son gave me a refrigerator, a stove, a washer/dryer, a table, a couch and a chair for which I am eternally grateful. After a great deal of cursing, I have hot and cold running water upstairs in a temporary sink in the kitchen. Oh, and a flushable toilet. What a joy!. Despite the cold weather and my lack of a furnace, I’ve been keeping fairly warm, hunkered down in a small back bedroom.
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A City of Two Tails

I’ve been back in Detroit exactly a month and a day. A few folks I know, mostly my relatives, wonder if I’m crazy. My son even asked me if I’d gone senile. Well, crazy yes, but then I’ve always been a bit crazy. Senile? Who knows. Could be.

Detroit has a bad rap. From Motor City to Murder City, an urban landscape of burned out and abandoned houses, empty, trash strewn lots, crime and crack-heads. But there is another side to her, a side not often acknowledged in the if-it-bleeds-it-leads mentality this country seems so enamored of.
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