Odometer: 86283
A few productive thrift store moments in the morning after saying goodbye to Bob, and I was off through northeastern Indiana and southern Ohio. This was the shortest drive of the trip so far, which was a good thing since I got such a late start. The drive was not particularly exciting. The only big amusement was the sign in a rest area outside Fort Wayne:
“We have urinals for men, not stool seats.”
Thing is, if “stool seats” is supposed to mean “commodes”, the sign was wrong. There were three. All the same, I opted for a urinal, feeling a bit skittish about doing my busness in something which might not really be there. Could be messy, after all…
I hit Detroit about 7. At least I think it was 7. Coming into or out of Indiana is always a confusing thing, since Daylight Savings Time is not spoken there. I checked into my trusty Motel 6 and set about getting in touch with Scott, my tourguide for the weekend. Scott had offered me lodgings with his friends Don and Kristen, but I felt bad about impacting to many lives at once, so I figured I’d opt for the room and see what happened.
Anyhow, I headed over to the house after a while. It’s always an odd thing to walk into a house ful of people you don’t really know. It’s always a great thing whe they make you feel like a long-lost friend and you actually believe you ARE a long-lost friend after about five minutes. This was one of those nights. I was happy.
I felt like I was really missing the point last year when I hit Detroit, because I had no one to show me around, no one to tell me where I should or should not drive, etc. All the same, I was obsessed with the place then and I’m obsessed with it still. If ever there was a polar opposite to the theme park known as San Francisco, this is it. Detroit is not pretty, at least not in ways that most people recognize. Gentrification is not an issue. Detroit is starkly real.
And it’s hard to write about it without sounding really pompous, so I’ll save the deep analysis for another time.
Friday night’s entertainment consisted of White Castle (what a great icebreaker!) and a trip to a very strange goth club in the grand ballroom of what seemed to be a soon-to-be-abandoned Ramada Inn downtown. This was the sort of place where you realize the decay in the club is probably not just a “pretty goths dressed in black” affectation. It was pretty cool, actually.
Then it was off to bed, as I prepared for Saturday’s demolition downtown and the kids got ready to confront the God Squad at an abortion protest the next morning.
