Chicago vs. Detroit

It's 12:46am on the Sunday morning after Turkey Day. I started this blog entry 4 days ago but never had the chance to finish it until now. I apologize for the delay. My life over the last week has blown over me like a cat-5 blows over a small fishing village in the South Pacific; fast and furious. In the last week, I've been to work, to class, to the clubs in Detroit, to the parade, to Lake Orion, West Lake and Troy with my lady for the holiday, to Chicago for a mini-HS-reunion, to Petosky for a little skiing and... where am I now?... oh, right, GAYlord, visiting the old man. I had 185 things to get done during that time, and I believe I have gotten through about 172 of those things ("thing" has got to be THE laziest word in the English language, but like I said, I've had a lot of things going lately, so I'm cutting myself some slack).

One THING that I have left to DO have to do, is finish this; a presumably non-suck-wad blog entry to hold you over while I finish the last few things on my list of 185. This one is going to be good, though, don't worry. We're going to talk about sports controversy, riots, big brother kicking little brother's asses, Detroit, and Chicago, and tie them all together with a big freakin bow for all to gaze upon. Oh, and I'll try to mix in some sex, too, because sex sells. Shit, and it's Thanksgiving, so I'll should mix in some turkey talk. Well, hell, we'd better get started, eh?

If you are a native to the state of Michigan, and know anything about sports, then you also know about the heated rivalry that has existed for decades between UofM, and MSU. In one corner, hailing from A2 is the maize and blue, with their city-integrated campus, over-priced tuition rates, rich, hippie-nerd student base and a national prestige that makes the heads of its alum grow to staggering ego-proportions. In the other corner, hailing from the disguised farmlands of East Lansing is the green and white, with their traditional campus, slightly relaxed admissions standards, and couch-burning, partying student base (I have an insider-information blog for another day on the couch-burning thing... don't let me forget).

Nowhere is this rivalry more intense than in football and basketball competition. For years, MSU has dominated the hardwood, and UofM has dominated on the gridiron. Last year, one of the UofM football players, Mike Hart, made a comment that added some heat to the rivalry. In a post-game press conference, he likened MSU to a little brother playing against his big brother on the playground, when the big brother lets the little brother feel like he's doing well, only to kick the little brother's ass in the end. It was a comment to which the new MSU football coach took exception, as you can imagine. Students and fans were pissed off, as was I.

But then I thought about it. The truth is, that arrogant little Wolverine ass was right. MSU was indeed UofM's little brother in football, and had been for many years. Despite having high expectations and tons of potential at the start of each season, MSU just never seemed to play as a team for the whole season, would make mistakes at the wrong times, lacked strong leadership, and didn't know how to win. They would always come close, but fall short in the end. That is changing now, and things are looking up, but for many years past, the big brother analogy was disturbingly accurate.

I understand that my non-UofM and MSU alum readers are drifting a bit... so please allow me to reel you back in while also attempting to get to my point... As I sat on the train last weekend, returning from Chicago, I came to a sudden and disheartening realization: Detroit is Chicago's little brother.

I am a proud "alum" of Detroit. When I'm not at work, in class, or sleeping, I'm downtown doing this, or this, or this. I love the people because they're real, and genuine (Hollister attire is not allowed south of 8 Mile except for those attending Tiger's games). Our sports, entertainment, cultural, art and dining establishments are top-notch. Our festivals eat other city's festivals whole. We have musical tradition that rivals that of any city in the nation, including jazz, rock, hip-hop, and not to mention being the birthplace of techno. We have played host to some huge events (Superbowl) and have always received rave reviews from the rest of the country who are always "surprised" by how much they enjoy their time here. Hell, we're even bringing in a touch of Hollywood now.

And how could we forget our stellar public transportation system, booming housing market, exemplary K-12 schools, diversified economy, and world-class shopping?

Oh... wait. Sorry. I got a little carried away there.

The truth is, Detroit is great, but when it comes to some very important areas, we are no Chicago. As I have eluded to, we Detroiters are nothing more than the little brother, playing on the play ground against our bigger brother, Chicago, thinking we are winning, only to be disappointed when Chicago flexes its big-brother muscles and whoops our ass at the end of the game.

Chicago has everything that we don't (except nice weather and good schools, but other that, everything). Chicago has a sprawling landscape of neighborhoods, each with their own flavor of shops, eateries, and local watering holes. Culture is not restricted to a few-mile radius of the downtown area as it is in the D. They also have a business district that is home to numerous players in the world market, a working public transportation system, a beautiful beach, more job opportunities (how often do kids graduate from college and move FROM Chicago TO Detroit?!) and most importantly... energy. Chicago has energy, and you can feel it as soon as you set foot in the city, no matter the time of day or night. The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for our city.

I'm no historian, but I think it's safe to say that Detroit has been suffering from the hangover that it got immediately after the the riots of '67. Hell, I have some family members (most of my family grew up in East Detroit), who STILL haven't forgiven the city for that, and probably never will. I could write another 92 pages on that topic alone, but suffice to say, Detroit still needs a little work.

And so, as I was sitting on that train, making my way back to Detroit, I got pissed off. I was pissed off at myself for not moving to Chicago when I should have, 10 years ago. I was pissed off at myself for staying in a town that didn't offer to me the opportunities that I deserved. I was pissed off because I had not surrounded myself with more people like me, and in an environment that inspired me to achieve more. I was pissed off because I felt like I was missing out, and I had no one to blame but myself.

*************

What an ass I am, eh? Talking shit about my city, and then bitching and moaning about my own inability to follow my dreams?! Jeezus, someone should just shoot me in the face and put me out of my misery.

Or...

The truth is. I love my alma motter, Detroit. And as for the decisions that I've made to stay, well, they may not have been the wisest decisions that I could have made, but I'm thankful for having been given the ability to make my own decisions. Besides, the little brother gets to have all the fun and then blame the big brother, right?

So to you, Mike Hart and UofM, and to you, Chicago and all of your temptations, I present the following:



Ah, shit, I forgot!! I promised to talk some sex, too, because sex sells. And, I didn't mention anything about Thanksgiving. OK, well, lets combine the two make this quick...

Did you know that turkeys can reproduce without having sex?! Yes. It’s called parthenogenesis.

You're welcome for that one. Have a good turkey day, everyone, from mine to yours.

Reader participation part 2 - Voltron would kick She-Ra's ass

It's Tuesday, not last Thursday. After one week I've already f'd up my promise to you. I have an excuse, though. I was in Chicago. No, really, I was. I wouldn't lie to you. By trains, planes and automobiles, my old "crew" got back together for a pre-Thanksgiving dinner. Except, the promise of Thanksgiving dinner was just a ruse, and we ended up eating Thai, drinking, and singing karaoke in the basement of a VFW. Good times were had for all. (PS: Amtrak is never on time, and The L in Chi-town is never without an unexpected track closing or "suspicious package" delay... just so you know.)

As I write this, I have no idea what thought-provoking question I am going to ask you this week. I'm sick as a dog, brain-dead, and strategically avoiding the 10+ unread messages in my work email inbox. The show must go on, though. Hmm.

Ok. Screw it. In light of my current mouth-breathing state, lets keep it simple. A friend of mine recently turned me on to this website: http://www.retrojunk.com/. We, of course, spent the next 20mins exchanging overly enthusiastic do-you-remembers.

I remember that when I was a kid, I LIVED for a trip to Toys 'R Us. That store was more addictive than pixie sticks or gummy worms. I would do anything to get my mom to stop there and "just let me look around for a minute" anytime we were out shopping. I thought I was clever too, as if she didn't know that "let me look around" meant "I want to trick you into buying me shit." Kids are stupid, what can I say?

And so, as the holiday shopping craze rapidly descends upon us all, I pose the following, un-thought-provoking-yet-impossible-not-to-answer questions:

1. Which toy did you NEED to have when you were a kid? (There were always the toys that you wanted, but on an entirely different level were the toys that you needed.)
   
   
2. What toy did you need to have, finally get, but quickly come to realize sucked major ass?
   
   
3. What toy do you still have today?
   
   
4. What toy do you want, right now? (Don't even TRY to act like you're all mature and above toys, because you're not. If you think you are, then you're just in denial. Either way, just answer the gd question!)

As usual, I'll get us started. In the mean time, here's a little teaser:

Happy Thanksgiving wishes from Sara Palin

This can't be real, can it? Apparently, it can, and it is. So many things come to mind when I watch this video. That giant-mustache-sporting guy continually looking back at Governor Palin, as if to say "is she seriously giving an interview in front of me while I'm draining the blood from these dead-ass turkeys?!" = HILARIOUS!

I'll spare you the rest of my "what the f's," my "oooooh no's," and my "I tol' you that bitch crazy's." Instead, I'll share with you some of the more entertaining comments left by members of the Digg and YouTube communities.




safehlkewqwsadkla: she's crazy - and we love her for it...

The5280Family: ...You will eat the turkey. You do not care how it got there... I'd love to see her gut a moose next while talking about national parks...

j72034: Note that she makes absolutely no sense when she is speaking, but you're so distracted by the Turkey carnage in the background you don't notice.

zizi333: Outtakes from Fargo is what immediately comes to mind... once the echo of her ramblings dies down... Watching the former VP candidate ramble on in front of Joe the turkey reaper... PRICELESS...

seltaeb4: Sarah Palin is truly a gift from God... for us Democrats. Note to Republicans: you're right, she's the greatest! She's the future of the Republican Party! Keep her front and center!!!

pepelu12: Jesus Christ, what the *****!

COINTELPROAgent: Newsflash for emo retards: this is what happens outside city limits.

thundacatblue: I'm sure heads will roll as a result of this...

lopla: TURKEYGATE

flickrdoodle: OKay, PETA... you win. I'm having tofu for Thanksgiving.

CarlosDJackal: What do people think, the Turkeys kill themselves for Thanksgiving?

MrsButtersworth: The dumb bitch in that video cracks me up.

Prophetxbb: Happy Thanksgiving!


Care to add a comment of your own?

Partying makes you smarter

I believe that one's intelligence is measured not by the amount of knowledge one has acquired, but instead it is measured by the eagerness and openness with which they seek out new understanding.

(What did he say? Oh, wait, he's just talking out of his arse again. Ok.)

Someone in the know took me to Bert's Warehouse (wow does their website suck) on Saturday night. How did I not know about this place before?! Oh, wait, I know why, because I'm a big fat looser who lives across the street from Sam's Club in the 'burbs. Oops. My bad, dog.

When you put all of the following items together in one huge-ass warehouse, and keep them together for 7hrs, you get a near-coma-inducing good time; laser lights, smoke machines, REALLY big speakers, hot techno, hipsters, stoners, preppies, gangstas, guys in suits, moms in turtle-necks, cheap party girls, jagass guys who like cheap party girls, Blacks, Whites, Asians, Arabs, the Lollipop Gang, your uncle Louie, alcohol, and drugs you've never heard of.

An experience like that can be nothing but enlightening. So, yeah, getting drunk and dancing to deafening techno in a giant, smokey warehouse at 4am is actually the path to true understanding and infinite intelligence.

What makes you smarter??

Reader participation - part 1 (you're all growns up)

It's Thursday. Actually, it's a rainy, gray, cold Thursday. Nothing of significance has happened yet today, and I do not expect that to change before the day ends. It's just... Thursday. The only thing that today has going for it, is that it's one day away from Friday. What does one "blog" about in such situations? I've browsed the news, and found nothing but the usual depressing crap, such as; suicide bombers, bailouts, going-extinct gorillas, and talk of Palin running in 2012 (please, god, NO). I even perused my scattered list of unfinished, unposted blogs, but could not find the energy to complete a one.

And then it occurred to me. I don't have to write anything. Instead, YOU can do it for me! A much better idea, yes indeed. Besides, who wants to hear what I have to say all the time, it is my ass that does most of the typing, anyway. So here's what we're going to do... each Thursday, every Thursday (at least, until I realize that no one cares, right after this Thursday), I'm going to present a question to you, and it will be up to you, to ponder and then of course share your answer in the comments section. I'll keep the questions loosely based on the theme on this blog: Always remaining in progress.

Are you in? Yes? Good. Be careful though, answering the types of questions that I'm going to be asking might actually cause you to think, reflect, and maybe even learn yourself sumthin about yourself. Please heed my warning and be very careful. Ok, here we go.

Today's topic: Mikey's all growns up.

1. When you were asked as a child, that damn annoying question, "And what do you want to be when you grow up?" How did you answer?
   
2. When you were in school/college, how did your answer change?
3. What is your answer to that question now?
4. What are you actually doing now?
   

The Jazz Cafe and Gay Jedi

"I find your lack of faith disturbing."

It's no secret that I was raised in the suburbs, and currently live and work within the sprawl that the local news stations affectionately refer to as Metro Detroit (which, really is just a nice way of saying Not Detroit). My suburbanism, which I will neither apologize for nor advertise, has been well documented on many occassions.

Recently, though, I have begun the process of trading in my green (pansy-ass, suburbanite) lightsaber for a red (fear inducing, city dwelling) lightsaber. In dire fear of misrepresenting myself as a gigantic Star Wars geek, I offer the following analogies:

The suburbs...



And, the city...


Shite. I wish I could do the force choke. I can think of so many practical applications for such a skill. But I digress, as usual.

I am a supporter of the city, and this wasn't always the case. So, what happened? I'll tell you. I left ignorance and apprehension at home, went out, and experienced the city. And no, I'm NOT talking about playing slots at the goddamn casinos, riding the merry-go-round at Comerica Park, or going to the freakin Auto Show. Any frat-boy wannabe from Novi, or baby-popping skank from Roseville can drive down I-94 or I-75 for one evening each year to do those things.

No, I'm talking about the speakeasy D'Mango's (now open on Saturdays, too!), local flavor at The Woodbridge Pub, beer and volleyball at Z's, theater, art and beer at The Zeitgeist Gallery, and pulled pork from Slow's in Corktown. I'm talking about the eclectic offerings of City Fest, the raw, nationally renowned energy exhibited at DEMF, local art at The Russell, and the in-your-face awesomeness that is Dally in the Alley. I'm talking about local eats from Eastern Market, free music and movies at Campus Martius, scenery on The Riverfont, and the hidden attractions on Bell Isle.

And now, I'm adding the The Jazz Cafe to the TOP of that list.

My very anti-suburban, often free-ticket-acquiring girlfriend and I went to the midnight performance on Saturday night at The Jazz Cafe. It. Kicked. Ass. I didn't know a THING about Jazz, but it didn't matter.

The Jazz Cafe is located under the Music Hall, and provides an atmosphere that, if you're not overly mindful of your surroundings, wreaks of big-brother-type cities like the NYC or Chicago. The shape of the room, style of the clientele, and overall vibe of the joint is just, well, smooth as hell. Oh, and they had BBQ chips. I LOVE BBQ chips.

When a guy gets on the mic and introduces a song like this, you know it's going to be a good show: "Yeah, so... I rented an apartment from a Korean guy in L.A., like years ago, man. It was a good apartment. The apartment came with a dog, though. He said I didn't have to take the dog, and that he would give it to a shelter or sumthin... But I told him, no man. I told him, I'll take the apartment, and I'll take the dog. So I took the dog, and he was a good dog... I'm tellin you, that dog, was a good dog. This song, is about that dog..." (I'm paraphrasing because I was just a bit toasty at the time, and can't remember the exactness of his introduction, but I think you get the premise. The guy was smooth, and the song followed suit.)

Soaking in the rhythm was a fascinating crowd that included couples, singles, and dudes just... you know, hangin out, man. It included pretentious jazz-aficionados marked by the token jazz hat and tucked-in scarf, and real jazz fans like the older black gentleman behind us, and the older white woman in front of us, both of whom were sitting alone and moving to the rhythm like they knew how and had been doing for years. And how can I forget the annoying, begging-to-be-punched-in-the-face kids sitting to our left? They had wanna-be-black-jazz-artists-but-instead-play-in-a-shitty-alt-band-in-mom's-basement written all over them. The crowd was as interesting as the performance itself.

I can still hear the music, and I can smell the air in that place. The Jazz Cafe is a must experience. The Jazz Cafe is good times in every sense of the phrase "good times." The Jazz Cafe is real. The Jazz Cafe is Detroit.

That was a good night. If you haven't been, you need to go. Now.

Update: For another, more well-written report on the Jazz Cafe, be sure to go here!

ALREADY?!

The elections are over. And thank Jeebus because inProgress was growing weary of the political banter to which there never seems to be a right (or wrong) answer that we all can agree on. It's a good thing, too, because now we have something much more important to turn our attention to. Holiday greed!

It began, LITERALLY, at 12:01am on November first. One, single day after Halloween. I saw it, and heard it, with my own eyes. Want proof? Just click here. Be SURE to click the "Listen Live" link, for the full effect.

Soon, our country will be transformed into one, giant, tinsel-covered Bronner's store. Santa Clause will win the presidency in a landslide. The House will be filled with elves, and the Senate with talking reindeer. The Abominable Snowman will seek to enrich uranium, and Yukon Cornelius will invade the wrong country in search of gold.

Fa la la la la, la la freakin la.

+12 million votes

Yes, Cube, today was a good day.

For the first time in the history of me voting, the people and proposals that I voted for actually won. Holy crap. Bring on the pot-smoking embryos, and lets see if the rock star can deliver on his promises of change. And so, today was a good day because:

1. I no longer have to hear McCain refer to the American people as "my friends." OMFG did he overdo that shit. Did his speech writers run out of ideas?!
   
2. The bleeding in my ears caused by Palin's voice will begin to subside.
   
3. Half-black, all black, Chinese, Vulcan, whatever Obama is, I don't care. What I do care about is this: for the first time, a U.S. president will NOT be an old, white-haired, white dude.
   
4. We will be given a short reprieve from the numerous and mostly FALSE attack ads that have plagued all facets of our main stream media for over a year now.
5. Should Obama actually do a "good job", baby-boomers will be confronted with another reason to overcome the closet-racism that their parents taught them so well.
6. The rest of the world (wait, you mean there are other countries on this planet?!), may hate us a little less now.
   
7. Savior and bringer of positive change or not, at least our president-to-be can form complete sentences... with real words.

I did my best to judge the character of two men who wanted to be the leaders of my country. I hope that you did the same, regardless of how you voted.

DON'T VOTE

Yeah, that's right, I said it, and I'll say it again. DO NOT vote tomorrow. Stay home. Tear up your voter registration card. Don't even think about driving past your local voting station. Just treat tomorrow like any other day, and bypass your opportunity to be a part of the democratic process.

The truth is, if you're an average American, you're uninformed, impressionable, gullible, lazy, and scared to death of forming your own opinions about the political issues that affect your life and the country to which you owe your livelihood. You've likely never traveled outside of the Midwest (and NO, Canada does not count as travel, sorry), so you have no idea what the world is really like outside of your bubble. Your favorite pastime is watching reality television, you think camping in the Thumb is an "adventure," and you actually do refer to McDonald's as a "restaurant." Please, I'm begging you, stay out of the voting booth tomorrow!

For the 3 or 4 of your out there who actually do make an effort to gather information and then form an educated opinion, I present the following sources of information for your reading pleasure:

• Michigan.gov/vote
  
• Project Vote Smart
• Truth-o-meter (read the truth in each candidate's accusations of the other)
  
• PBS's unbiased feature on the presidential candidates