Posts filed under 'About town'
So here was our logic: given the small turnout Obama got in Toledo yesterday, and given the fact that it was Labor Day weekend, and the fact that the gates opened at 8:30, we figured we’d be okay arriving in downtown Detroit around 7:45 or 8 am. We were wrong. Sure, there were complicating factors that may have swelled the crowd — the annual Labor Day Parade, the last day of the Detroit International Jazz Festival and a Tigers game.
But still.
At no point did we imagine that we — me, Chris, our friend Maggie and her friend Sarah — would take our places in line at 8:30 and would patiently snake our way around downtown buildings in the beating sun until nearly 11 am only to get nowhere near the entrance gates. And only to experience the entire breakdown of the crowd system after a volunteer told us that they simply didn’t have enough volunteers to control the crowd anymore.
The mood, at first, was pretty exhilirating. It’s an exciting time, obviously, in politics and we were buoyed by the notion of getting to see Barack Obama in person, if he only seemed a speck in the distance. The crowd was enormous and the mood pretty good, overall. But the whole thing seemed strangely uncoordinated. Given how many people were lining up and given how the line was looping around downtown, we commented repeatedly that it was a miracle that people were behaving in such an orderly fashion.
However, by nearly 11 am — the time at which Obama was scheduled to speak — we were nowhere near the front of the line and it was pretty evident that we weren’t going to get inside. It was as though most of the crowd realized it at the same time and there was a pretty big rush to volley for positions in front of a big screen and that was as good as it got for us.
We were hot, tired and thirsty and we waited until nearly 11:30 for Obama to take the stage following brief introductory comments by local labor leaders. It was still thrilling to see him on the screen and to know that he was somewhere, you know, over there. Obviously, today’s speech was supposed to focus on labor and unions and Obama did make a few remarks about supporting the American worker. Then he said that while he had planned a political speech, today was not the day for political speeches, given Hurrican Gustav’s approach to the Gulf Coast. Instead, he asked us to share a moment of silence and to remember the spirit of giving and togetherness and all that good stuff.
The AP says it was a ten minute speech, but only if you count the pauses for applause, some intro banter and the moment of silence. I think it was closer to five. Which, if you had rolled out of bed at 7, as I did, and waited for three and a half hours, could be a bit of a disappointment. Or if you had been in line since 5 am, which many of those who did get into Hart Plaza did.
And it was over. Just like that. The majority of the crowd seemed to be pushing their way over to the Jazz Festival. Some were headed to the Tigers game. Others, like us, were done for and just wanted to get home and hydrated. Am I glad I went? I suppose I am. It’s just not what I thought it was going to be. Maybe I was ridiculously naive in thinking I’d catch a glimpse of the man I believe will be our next president.
I will say that it was a particular kind of thrill to be among those throngs of people of all different ethnicities, ages, etc. And there was a lot of — dare I say it — hope floating around the joint. If those people are willing to come out and shuffle along in line for hours on end, then surely they’ll all make it to the polls to vote. In which case, I guess we’ll be seeing a whole lot of change, which will more than make up for not seeing Obama in person.
September 1st, 2008
How can I tell, especially with temperatures still dipping into chilly-low places at night? Here’s how:
It’s the first Dirty Sheed of year, a summer tradition, a Zingerman’s concoction of espresso and Mexican vanilla syrup (sugar free, in my case) and half-and-half over ice. Like a cup of rich, melted coffee ice cream. Taken during our walk to Kerrytown last Saturday morning to the farmer’s market. Sipped from a prime people-watching bench from which we also spotted:
A couple with their hands full of doggies. And, out of the corner of our eyes, prompting an up-close ooh-ing and ahh-ing:
A riot of gorgeous bright orange poppies. Not a great photo, but you get the idea. Such a crazy, reckless kind of flower, no? All or nothing, putting themselves way out there. No wonder they don’t last long. It must be exhausting. Then, on the walk back home, with a sack full of fresh asparagus and overpriced home-grown lettuce, a few other oddities soaking up the sun:
Three random chairs catching some rays. (If this is a race, the one at the front has a considerable lead, it seems.) Also, this little fella:
I think we could all learn something here. This seems like an optimal position to avoid awkward tan lines. (I worried a little that this was actually the fallout from an unsuccessful attempt to fly, but I wanted to afford him some dignity and at least pretend that he totally meant to land there.)
May 28th, 2008
It’s been a long time since I watched a music video. Which is funny, because I’m of the generation that came of age just as the moon man bounced in the dawn of MTV. I remember being in middle school and going over to a friend’s house — we didn’t have cable — to breathlessly await a new Duran Duran video. (The Reflex! With the wave of water coming out at the end like it was COMING RIGHT AT YOU!) Or staying up late to watch Friday Night Videos so that I’d be in the loop around the proverbial middle school water cooler the next day.
All of this is a very long-winded way of saying that I just watched the new music video for the song “Good Day” by Ann Arbor band Tally Hall. I’m so out of the loop on local music — hell, on new music in general — but these guys seem to have garnered quite a following and have been popping up everywhere from the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson to MTVu. (See, I don’t even know what MTVu is.) I read in this month’s Observer (a local rag) that they’re re-releasing their first album “Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum” on a major label. Good for them.
But back to the video. I don’t know what the other kids are doing with their videos these days (and thus, it may turn out this video isn’t remarkable at all) but the “Good Day” video is a tad infectious, a little dizzying and fun to watch, especially for Ann Arborites, since many shots were done around town. (They’re playing in front of Rackham Hall! Now they’re in the Big House!) Anyway, I’m not entirely sure about the song — might be a little Queen-esquely operatic for my tastes — but the sheer effort that must have gone into making this video makes it worth a nod. And who doesn’t love a local-boys-make-good story?
March 31st, 2008
Some things I saw on a late afternoon walk yesterday afternoon around our neighborhood in Ann Arbor. (Okay, so that one above may not technically have been taken on our walk, but if Allie could have come with us, he’d have given up his sunny spot on clean sheets in a heartbeat.)
Turtles seemed to be something of a theme…
…sunning themselves on rocks.
Perhaps this last one’s pushing the theme a tad, but it seemed sad to leave it out.
Above is a very cool building near our house, a series of small-scale lofts nestled just off the street. The building used to be some kind of water station pump thingie. I’m big on details.
One of my favorite streets, Mulholland Avenue, with its pretty painted houses.
A bright and cheery mailbox.
A curious yard ornament against a yellow house.
A sunny spot to sit under a tree.
Two silver boxes on a blue sideboard on a porch. Did I mention I love this town, especially on foot? I’ll never run out of cool little things to notice.
March 17th, 2008
I’ve been to two concerts at the Michigan Theater in the past week or so. Last weekend, Chris and I joined our friend Fara and her boyfriend Mark to see James Blunt and, while it was a good enough show — it was basically like watching him perform the albums — I was nearly driven batty by everyone using their cell phones all throughout the concert. Some people seemed to be calling friends and holding up their phone so they could here. More were either taking pictures or recording video, which always surprises me because the quality of that stuff is always lousy and I wonder who they’re showing it to, going, “Look! You see that tiny little blurr of light on the stage there? OH MY GOD THAT’S JAMES BLUNT!” There was even a guy two folks down who kept recording portions of the songs. Copyright and piracy issues aside (especially since I’m not a saint in that department), it was just annoying and distracting — at times the glow from the phones around me seemed brighter than the stage.
It all seemed so contrary to actually being present in the moment, to actually experiencing being at the concert. It had me musing about how this younger generation — kids today! — can’t seem to just engage with their surroundings without filtering the experience through some kind of gadgetry. It had me, most of all, feeling old.
Then, on Wednesday night, Chris and I went to see Steve Earle . I am not, admittedly, a big Steve Earle fan, but Chris loves him and the tickets were part of his birthday present. This time, we were on the main floor of the theater, rather than the balcony, and the vibe was entirely different. What struck me first and foremost was that, in sharp contrast to the previous concert, the Steve Earle crowd made me look like a spring chicken. I have to admit it was kind of a nice feeling. Somewhere along the lines, I must have gotten used to feeling old, especially in this college town where youth and its indiscretions are impossible to avoid. Save for a sullen teen behind us whose constant complaining suggested her mother had dragged her to the show across the year, I was the youngest person around me by far. Even Chris got into the humor of it, dubbing it “Steve Earle: The Cocoon Tour.”
Oh, yes, they were old around us! The couple to our right didn’t look like they could stay awake for the whole evening. When a large group entered after the opening act, Chris remarked that the bus from the group home must have been late in arriving. Oh, how we laughed. And then I settled into my seat. I pulled my Icy Hot pain reliever stick from my purse and applied to my neck, a necessary evil for me to sit still for any period of time. And then I pulled my knitting from my purse and Chris and I just looked at each other and laughed. There I was, poking fun at old folk and I’m the only one in the crowd stinking of wintergreen and knitting a friggin’ sweater. Irony, you are a cruel, cruel beast.
On a side note, I should mention that I didn’t not enjoy the Steve Earle show as much as I thought I would. He’s still a tad nasally and twangy for me, although his last Grammy was for folk music and I can get behind some o’ that. And I respect his politics (ol’ lefty-style) and his recovery from drugs and alcohol (which he’s pretty vocal about and committed to.) What I will say is that there were parts of it I truly enjoyed, especially his newer stuff. It was a really pared back show — mostly him on stage with his guitar or mandolin or what have you. But for some of the songs, he was accompanied by a DJ and what I thought was going to be cheesy — who plays the banjo to an electronic beat — was at times really interesting. One might even say enjoyable. Enough so that I even put away my knitting and forgot, at least for a moment or two, to re-apply my pain stick. Kids today!
March 7th, 2008
Fall is, without question, my favorite season and, call me biased, but it’s also when Ann Arbor is at its beautiful days. It’s my favorite time of year for grabbing the camera, running out and taking zillions of photos of things people have seen many times before but which continue to give me a bit of a seasonal thrill. I’m the guy walking around with her head face pointed up at the trees, truly marveling at the colors of the leaves, wondering how on earth nature pulled it off yet again.
Yesterday was the quintessential fall day — clear blue sky, crispy leaves on the ground — except, perhaps, for the temps in the high 70s which made it a little warmer than is perhaps globally apt at this time of year. Thus, I set out for a long walk, armed with my camera and the self-imposed assignment of snapping things that are orange. (A mission made considerably easier by our proximity to Halloween, I admit.)
Pumpkin season is upon us and my neighborhood is playing its part swimmingly. Here, without further ado, just a smattering of those snapshots:
There. If that doesn’t leave you feeling like fall, you simply can’t be helped.
October 22nd, 2007
Yes, the glorious weekend continued on to Saturday, when Chris and I hit the Farmer’s Market and then Zingerman’s for lunch. The evidence, in photos, if you will:
Mmmm…strawbies…
Wooden fish. No reason.
And pretty flowers…
It is Ann Arbor, so a little peace with your produce…
Head gear for your “Little House on the Prairie” re-enactments…
Al Gore, America needs you!
But me? Mostly I just needed lunch at Zingerman’s:
Loads of loaves to ogle while in line…
Plus beautiful hand-made local cheese…
Perfect day for dining al fresco
After lunch, a little impromptu entertainment outside the Kerrytown Concert House as a father and son fiddlin’ duo practice for a recital…
And all of that by 1 pm!
June 10th, 2007
I spent much of this weekend wandering around Ann Arbor with my new camera, taking pictures of not much important and enjoying the weather and the company of my husband. The former was idyllic and the latter was a nice treat, as he has been working 15 hour days, seven days a week for some time now to keep the wheels of Sharesleuth rollin’. (The result of this last burst of work is an interesting piece on a company that implants human cadaver bones into spines — which, you might be fascinated/horrified to learn does not require FDA approval. Read it here.)
Friday evening Chris and I wandered into town after dinner to check out the scene and grab a coffee. On the way, we encountered some A2 wildlife:
Even the graffiti artists are polite here:
Ann Arbor’s packed with some really gorgeous architecture, especially around Main Street. This view is of one of my favorite buildings, the First National Bank Building, an Art Deco gem that dates back to 1927 and, at the time of its erection, was the tallest structure in the city.
Nowadays, historical architecture competes with the crop of lofts that are popping up around the area, most of them in new construction high-rises. (Well, not too high…A2 doesn’t like to have their skyline messed with, and I say, good on ‘em.) I can’t conceive of where they’ll find people to fill all the lofts they’re building, especially at price tags ranging from $250k to $600 per unit.
Onto downtown…typical of a gorgeous summer eve, Whiteyville was in full swing, packing in the outdoor cafes.
Not a bad place to live, at all.
June 9th, 2007
I know, I know. Since I moved from St. Louis to Ann Arbor, I’ve become the latter’s unpaid ambassador, singing this small town’s praises like nobody’s business. I’ve been here long enough, however, to see that all is not golden in this little haven. For a supposedly liberal town, there’s almost no gay community here and way too many environmentally-destructive SUVs parked outside the food co-op. Most of the punk rock kids are likely riding skateboards paid for by trust funds or, at the very least, generous upper-middle-class allowances. And while the university injects a certain amount of cultural diversity, this is a white, white place. In addition, there’s not really much of a real working class here — and no, sorority girls waiting tables does not count.
And this, my friends is precisely why, this is what’s wrong with Ann Arbor: http://annarbor.craigslist.org/rfs/335950974.html .
That’s basically my dream house — a cute little Arts & Crafts bungalow, with hardwood floors and a working fireplace. Granted, I’d ideally love to have three bedrooms and not two, so Chris and I could continue to have separate offices, but let’s say I wasn’t fussy about that. This charmer has an updated bath, a back patio and even a garage, which is a definite plus when the weather turns icy-snowy. And it’s within walking distance of downtown, which means we could remain a one-car family and ensure at least a little exercise once in a while. It’s a total of 910 square feet, for which the crack-smoking owners are asking…
$309,000.
That’s right. Three hundred and nine THOUSAND dollars.
Now, this is just crazy talk, even for this inflated housing market. Pfizer lay-offs have resulted in a bunch of foreclosures in the city’s outskirts, where housing prices are more “reasonable.” And, yes, adorable homes within walking distance of downtown are premium real estate here. But seriously? The St. Louisan in me just cannot imagine that kind of housing cost. This isn’t New York, people. It’s Whiteyville, Michigan. Am I missing something? Are the basements here paved with gold? The foundations built with bricks of cocaine?
If we ever decide to stop renting here, we will have to live in a cardboard box. Although clearly we’ll have to look for one on the outskirts.
(Note: $309,000 is the reduced price for this home. It was on Craig’s List last month for $330,000.)
May 22nd, 2007
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