So on a recent post I may have implied that my dentist was being ever-so-slightly less than honest about the need for some fillings based on some magical cavity detecting laser. I'm still skeptical about the laser, but when I went in for my fillings on Tuesday, the dentist said that one of them was a bit bigger than he anticipated and it was a good thing that we decided to fill that one.
That makes me feel just a little bit better about the whole process, though I guess I don't really have any proof that he didn't make up the part about the cavity being a little bit bigger than expected, and to convince me of his case, he used Novocaine and in my numbed state, he decided to go nuts with the drill. What I can tell you for sure is that I didn't get feeling back on the right side of my face for three or four hours, so he could have been doing anything in my mouth while I was on the chair. No, don't go there.
That makes this post my unofficial apology for implying I was the victim of medical revenue-generating practices. A little skepticism can be good, on occasion, but generally it is probably a better idea than not to trust your various medical professionals - except for that guy behind the liquor store named Doc. He should not be trusted under any circumstances.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Michigan's Greatest Gift
On one May 24th, 1982 morning or night on a day that was either rainy, sunny, overcast, or night time, Michigan was granted its greatest natural gift throughout all of history, me.
Yes, today is my 27th birthday and I am happy to be mildly celebrating all weekend long. Last night, Maureen took me to dinner at Michael Symon's downtown Detroit restaurant, Roast, in the newly-restored Westin Book Cadillac Hotel, today I will be attending my first Tiger game of the 2009 calendar year with 8 other individuals, and tomorrow I will be working, but with less intensity than a normal Monday. I may even stop by a friends' place for some backyard barbecue. Most importantly, my parents purchased a whole CostCo cake before they went to go visit my sister and her family in Minnesota and we have (no kidding) 7 containers of Edy's ice cream in the refridgerator. Birthday is no birthday without a whole CostCo cake and 7 containers of Edy's ice cream.
Tomorrow, instead of wishing people the usual and oh so overused "Happy Memorial Day!!", wish them "Happy Day After Ken's Birthday!!" They'll know exactly what you're talking about and together, you can reminisce about the good times, the bad times, the hard times, and the medium times you have shared thinking about, discussing, and writing songs and poems for me. Enjoy this random video of my nephew. It's my birthday gift for me to you.
Yes, today is my 27th birthday and I am happy to be mildly celebrating all weekend long. Last night, Maureen took me to dinner at Michael Symon's downtown Detroit restaurant, Roast, in the newly-restored Westin Book Cadillac Hotel, today I will be attending my first Tiger game of the 2009 calendar year with 8 other individuals, and tomorrow I will be working, but with less intensity than a normal Monday. I may even stop by a friends' place for some backyard barbecue. Most importantly, my parents purchased a whole CostCo cake before they went to go visit my sister and her family in Minnesota and we have (no kidding) 7 containers of Edy's ice cream in the refridgerator. Birthday is no birthday without a whole CostCo cake and 7 containers of Edy's ice cream.
Tomorrow, instead of wishing people the usual and oh so overused "Happy Memorial Day!!", wish them "Happy Day After Ken's Birthday!!" They'll know exactly what you're talking about and together, you can reminisce about the good times, the bad times, the hard times, and the medium times you have shared thinking about, discussing, and writing songs and poems for me. Enjoy this random video of my nephew. It's my birthday gift for me to you.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Fleeced, Part 1
Like so many Americans, I am not a medical professional, and therefore, I depend on medical professionals for the best advice, insight, and feedback on all things medical. This includes physicians, surgeons, dermatologists, and dentists. Every once in a while, I get the strong feeling that, while not entirely trying to screw me, some of these medical professionals are focusing a little bit too much on the revenue-generating side of the business and they don't necessarily give me the best input. I really like our family dentist and will keep going there happily, but in 2 out of my last 3 biannual checkups, I have some sneaking and growing suspicions, and I wanted to throw a question out there to my vast dentist reading community. There is even an entire website called DentistsLoveWeAreOfMichigan.blogspot.com dedicated to dentists who love me, so I don't want to alienate those fans.
Three checkups ago, my brother and I were both told, within a couple of weeks, that crowns were the best way for us to go to deal with a tooth issue. At first, I was excited that the dentist was going to make an entirely separate appointment to make and place a bejeweled ornamental headpiece on my head, but then I found out that they were going to cut off part of my tooth and put a new piece on top of the tooth stump. Again I'm no dentist so I don't know the real reasons why a crown would be necessary, but I'm a very regular brusher and flosser, had no tooth pain whatsoever, and I never heard about any of my peers who had crowns. The fact that Steve and I were both recommended crowns within a couple weeks seemed too much a coincidence to be coincidence.
My most recent concern regards the checkup I had Thursday morning. Again, in general, my teeth were pristine, but the hygienist had a small concern about two small areas on my teeth. The dentist came in and took a look, and he was not able to immediately discern whether or not these were cavities. At this point, they brought in a cavity-detecting laser that they stick against your teeth, and it registers a reading between 0-99. 99 means your tooth is like a mealy apple. The dentist indicated to me that a reading between 20-30 indicates the start of a cavity, and one of the areas on my teeth registered a 24 and one a 28. Because of this, I have to again return next week for some very minor filling work that likely won't even require numbing.
First, I don't have proof that someone in the room was fiddling around with the dials to put in whatever number he/she saw fit, let alone that the laser has the ability to detect cavities. It's hard to look around with an implement stuck in your craw. Second, are the readings of a 24 and 28 even filling-worthy? I mean, the dial goes all the way up to 99. Are these guaranteed to turn into cavities, or is this a fine opportunity to hit up insurance and my co-pay for a few extra bucks? This isn't a conspiracy theory or rallying against the vast health care machine, but every once in a while, maybe it's right to ask the question - is this really necessary?
Three checkups ago, my brother and I were both told, within a couple of weeks, that crowns were the best way for us to go to deal with a tooth issue. At first, I was excited that the dentist was going to make an entirely separate appointment to make and place a bejeweled ornamental headpiece on my head, but then I found out that they were going to cut off part of my tooth and put a new piece on top of the tooth stump. Again I'm no dentist so I don't know the real reasons why a crown would be necessary, but I'm a very regular brusher and flosser, had no tooth pain whatsoever, and I never heard about any of my peers who had crowns. The fact that Steve and I were both recommended crowns within a couple weeks seemed too much a coincidence to be coincidence.
My most recent concern regards the checkup I had Thursday morning. Again, in general, my teeth were pristine, but the hygienist had a small concern about two small areas on my teeth. The dentist came in and took a look, and he was not able to immediately discern whether or not these were cavities. At this point, they brought in a cavity-detecting laser that they stick against your teeth, and it registers a reading between 0-99. 99 means your tooth is like a mealy apple. The dentist indicated to me that a reading between 20-30 indicates the start of a cavity, and one of the areas on my teeth registered a 24 and one a 28. Because of this, I have to again return next week for some very minor filling work that likely won't even require numbing.
First, I don't have proof that someone in the room was fiddling around with the dials to put in whatever number he/she saw fit, let alone that the laser has the ability to detect cavities. It's hard to look around with an implement stuck in your craw. Second, are the readings of a 24 and 28 even filling-worthy? I mean, the dial goes all the way up to 99. Are these guaranteed to turn into cavities, or is this a fine opportunity to hit up insurance and my co-pay for a few extra bucks? This isn't a conspiracy theory or rallying against the vast health care machine, but every once in a while, maybe it's right to ask the question - is this really necessary?
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
The Evils of Antiperspirant
On with my week of the world of Ken's personal grooming.
This is a philosophy that my brother has adhered to for years, and because it is among the most counter-intuitive theories I have ever heard, I pushed back against it for many moons. This concept holds that antiperspirant actually causes the body to sweat more than just wearing deodorant. "CRAZY!" you say? I thought so too, but I am a complete and total convert to the joys of deodorant-sans-aluminum.
Steve postulates that antiperspirant, when applied, acts as a firm but extremely temporary barrier against the sweats. However, as your body wants and needs to sweat, the heat builds and it pushes against this barrier until, eventually, this barrier breaks down. At this point, the floodgates are open and you are going to have all kinds of sweaty armpits. The antiperspirant experiences a critical failure event from which it cannot recover.
Now, I have have suffered from the malady of sweaty body parts for my whole life. I had tried every single brand, scent, and type of antiperspirant out there. Solids, gels, solid gels, and soft solids have all failed in their effort to keep me from sweating. I've even tried products marketed specifically to not-men, because hell, they couldn't possibly be worse than all of the previous failures. There was a brief period of time where I experienced some success with the clickable Old Spice Red Zone, but like the borg, my body adapted and learned how to defeat this brand. Most recently, I felt optimistic when some of the more mainstream companies started producing and marketing "prescription strength" antiperspirants which recommend you go out of your way to put them on at night and slaughter a lamb as a sacrifice to ensure successful wetness defeating. I tell you all this because I need you to know that I have done, seen, and tried it all in this realm of consumer packaged goods. For business meetings, I had conceded to the fact that for my entire life, I would never be able to wear anything other than a white colored shirt.
Several months ago, fed up with years of failure, I finally gave in to at least trying Steve's anti-antiperspirant theory because, again, it couldn't be worse than the rest. After one day of trial, I was a convert. I could sit through and present in meetings with nary a wet spot. I could not believe how much of an instant difference it could make - specifically with a product intended to be the more wet version of the product that made me crazy wet. Since this time, I have continued to successfully and happily use only deodorant. I have also started to spread this theory to other people I know and, at the very least, they were happy to report that they were not sweating any more than if they were using the devil's product, antiperspirant. As added benefits, the aluminum that is in antiperspirant is what turns the armpits in our favorite t-shirts that depressing shade of yellow and, some people hypothesize, could have some sort of cancerous implications. Cancerous as in cancer, though this is still only alleged.
To this day, I continue to find it crazy that the product intended to do one thing has the complete opposite and deleterious effect. Whole world, rebel against antiperspirant. Embrace your friend in deodorant and overcome your doubt. It took me years to finally give it a shot, but now when I'm at a sporting event, I can throw my arms into the air for the wave like all the other Sure fans.
This is a philosophy that my brother has adhered to for years, and because it is among the most counter-intuitive theories I have ever heard, I pushed back against it for many moons. This concept holds that antiperspirant actually causes the body to sweat more than just wearing deodorant. "CRAZY!" you say? I thought so too, but I am a complete and total convert to the joys of deodorant-sans-aluminum.
Steve postulates that antiperspirant, when applied, acts as a firm but extremely temporary barrier against the sweats. However, as your body wants and needs to sweat, the heat builds and it pushes against this barrier until, eventually, this barrier breaks down. At this point, the floodgates are open and you are going to have all kinds of sweaty armpits. The antiperspirant experiences a critical failure event from which it cannot recover.
Now, I have have suffered from the malady of sweaty body parts for my whole life. I had tried every single brand, scent, and type of antiperspirant out there. Solids, gels, solid gels, and soft solids have all failed in their effort to keep me from sweating. I've even tried products marketed specifically to not-men, because hell, they couldn't possibly be worse than all of the previous failures. There was a brief period of time where I experienced some success with the clickable Old Spice Red Zone, but like the borg, my body adapted and learned how to defeat this brand. Most recently, I felt optimistic when some of the more mainstream companies started producing and marketing "prescription strength" antiperspirants which recommend you go out of your way to put them on at night and slaughter a lamb as a sacrifice to ensure successful wetness defeating. I tell you all this because I need you to know that I have done, seen, and tried it all in this realm of consumer packaged goods. For business meetings, I had conceded to the fact that for my entire life, I would never be able to wear anything other than a white colored shirt.
Several months ago, fed up with years of failure, I finally gave in to at least trying Steve's anti-antiperspirant theory because, again, it couldn't be worse than the rest. After one day of trial, I was a convert. I could sit through and present in meetings with nary a wet spot. I could not believe how much of an instant difference it could make - specifically with a product intended to be the more wet version of the product that made me crazy wet. Since this time, I have continued to successfully and happily use only deodorant. I have also started to spread this theory to other people I know and, at the very least, they were happy to report that they were not sweating any more than if they were using the devil's product, antiperspirant. As added benefits, the aluminum that is in antiperspirant is what turns the armpits in our favorite t-shirts that depressing shade of yellow and, some people hypothesize, could have some sort of cancerous implications. Cancerous as in cancer, though this is still only alleged.
To this day, I continue to find it crazy that the product intended to do one thing has the complete opposite and deleterious effect. Whole world, rebel against antiperspirant. Embrace your friend in deodorant and overcome your doubt. It took me years to finally give it a shot, but now when I'm at a sporting event, I can throw my arms into the air for the wave like all the other Sure fans.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Tear that Shiz Down
The Michigan Central Depot has stood vacant and utterly abandoned since the fine year of 1988 in honor of my sixth birthday. Well, abandoned except for the occasional movie that films scenes in the Central Depot intended to represent something along the lines of "really cool decay and dereliction." The depot stands almost immediately west of the heart of downtown Detroit and I'm pretty sure is meant to remind us of ineffective leaders who can decide neither to tear the thing down or to try to remodel it. On April 7th, 2009, the Detroit City Council finally passed a resolution aimed at tearing down the depot. A resolution in and of itself is still miles from actual demolition, but it's a step in one specific direction. The Freep and Detroit News are both reporting today that the city council is delaying its decision to raze the depot. Here's where, I think, this gets ridiculous.After 20+ years, the attorney for the company that owns the land stated that "the company needed a 'reasonable period of time to come up with development plans.'" For small decisions, a reasonable amount of time is somewhere between 5 and 30 seconds, as in, "Should I buy that pack of gum? Yes!!" For moderate decisions, a reasonable amount of time is 1 hour-7 days, like "How many buffets should I eat at on my honeymoon? At least five!" Large decisions can take anywhere from 1 day - 3 months, and huge, gigantic, massive, decisions should take between 2 weeks and 2 years. The company that owns this spot on earth has had 20 years to figure out what they should do with their property, and in the hopes of free money for "urban renewal" or "tax subsidies for casinos", they have let it just sit there, like a steaming pile of Taj Mahal-shaped dog poo. It might be shaped like something beautiful, but it's still a pile of poo.
I know it would be pretty freaking awesome if Detroit could somehow pull it together to restore the Central Depot. Estimates for restoration have generally ranged between $80M-$300M, and different people have suggested many different uses for the depot, including housing the Detroit police headquarters and possibly even a casino. The land that holds the depot belongs to a guy by the name of Matty Moroun - the same guy who owns the Ambassador Bridge - and this guy is a billionaire. I am the last person who wants to ever let go of the past, but it is time to let go of this past. It would probably be cheaper to raze the whole building and build a full-scale replica of the Central Depot on the exact same spot than to rebuild and remodel within the existing decrepit infrastructure. The council was on the path to finally making a decision, but maybe 20 more years well help the owners figure out what do to with the spot? We can't wait and hope that Transformer 3: The Revenge of Transformation will film at the Central Depot.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Body Wash
I absolutely do not understand body wash. My whole life my parents raised me as a bar soap kind of guy, but at some point in the last ten years, I became aware of the body wash product. I'm not quite sure when or how it happened, but somewhere along the line, manufacturers decided that they could screw consumers by putting an inferior washing quality product into a bottle, marking it up quite a large percentage, and then because it seems to go away so much faster than bar soap, people have to run to the store to purchase even more of the inferior cleaning product. The only reason I am periodically confronted with the issue of body wash is that sometimes I need to shower at Maureen's place and she often has only body wash available. I'm looking to find some supporters to explain to me why they want to pay more, more often, for a product that does not even clean their body. Here are just some of the reasons why body wash blows:
1) The aforementioned price issue
2) It never gets lathery enough
3) Because it never gets lathery enough, I have to use a large amount to hit the unusually high amount of surface area on my body
4) Even with the most vigorous effort, the body wash never seems to find its way into all the crevices of my man bits
5) The body wash never seems to permeate to the skin on any part of my body that contains hair - and genetically I just don't have very much hair aside from my head
6) Once finally on the body, the body wash takes forever to wash off, and I'm not sure it actually all ever comes off
7) It's easy to mistake body wash for something else, leading to potentially embarrassing shower situations
8) I heard that Hitler preferred body wash
9) That stupid Old Spice commercial with that Minotaur using Old Spice body wash. He must have an incredibly hard time based on point 5, see above. This is just false advertising. I'm pretty sure that all Minotaurs prefer Dove bars of soap.
10) This is my first list of 1o things ever on my blog, and I don't have a tenth point, so my tenth point is about the fact that this is the first list of 10 things on my blog.
I know that you're asking yourself "After this much time away from the blog and with all the things going on out there, why is this his post?" Because I've held my public silence about body wash too long. I can not be silenced any longer, and you all deserve to agree with me.
Stay tuned over the next couple days for my brother's very true theory about antiperspirant vs. deodorant. The world needs to know. I'd also like to thank my brand new blog sponsor, Old Spice. I love that commercial with the Minotaur.
1) The aforementioned price issue
2) It never gets lathery enough
3) Because it never gets lathery enough, I have to use a large amount to hit the unusually high amount of surface area on my body
4) Even with the most vigorous effort, the body wash never seems to find its way into all the crevices of my man bits
5) The body wash never seems to permeate to the skin on any part of my body that contains hair - and genetically I just don't have very much hair aside from my head
6) Once finally on the body, the body wash takes forever to wash off, and I'm not sure it actually all ever comes off
7) It's easy to mistake body wash for something else, leading to potentially embarrassing shower situations
8) I heard that Hitler preferred body wash
9) That stupid Old Spice commercial with that Minotaur using Old Spice body wash. He must have an incredibly hard time based on point 5, see above. This is just false advertising. I'm pretty sure that all Minotaurs prefer Dove bars of soap.
10) This is my first list of 1o things ever on my blog, and I don't have a tenth point, so my tenth point is about the fact that this is the first list of 10 things on my blog.
I know that you're asking yourself "After this much time away from the blog and with all the things going on out there, why is this his post?" Because I've held my public silence about body wash too long. I can not be silenced any longer, and you all deserve to agree with me.
Stay tuned over the next couple days for my brother's very true theory about antiperspirant vs. deodorant. The world needs to know. I'd also like to thank my brand new blog sponsor, Old Spice. I love that commercial with the Minotaur.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
This Post is a Cop Out
My tummy has been incredibly full of work this week and this has made it particularly hard to find blog time. That is why, tonight, I am simply going to post a video from YouTube that is better than anything I could ever write. Hopefully things will calm down by tomorrow night and I can again focus my attention on all of the things I would like to not have to focus my attention on. Stupid "the present".
Monday, May 11, 2009
Please Stay Put
Here I am, living my life, most certainly not oblivious to most of Michigan's daily challenges. Then, out of the blue, something new comes along and smacks you right in the face. Whether or not this is a legitimate concern or real story is up for discussion, but I do not like that this is yet another thing piled onto the plate and I did not even realize it was something requiring concern.
I was startled earlier this morning to read the headline "GM Ducks Question About Moving HQ" in The Freep and immediately more or less started to calmly freak out. Moving headquarters out of Detroit? Southeast Michigan? Michigan? The Midwest? The U.S.?
A little more reading over the course of the day has led to different types of speculation with varying degree of doom. Fortune reports "GM Home Likely to Stay Put in Detroit" and someone somewhere else speculated that GM may consolidate its operations into the expansive technical center in Warren.
From a business standpoint, I can't speak in depth to the benefits of GM moving HQ from one place to another, but from a Michigan standpoint, I hope to all gods of all religions that GM can find success while staying put in the Renaissance Center. In fact, I there aren't too many things worse for the state than GM moving out of the D. Michigan needs a healthy Detroit in its ongoing fight to change perception of Michigan as a whole. GM has put in a considerable amount of money toward this end - from massively overhauling the RenCen to funding a significant portion of the RiverWalk to bringing additional employees downtown to fill Detroit's streets and stores, and probably lots of things I can't recall off the top of my head. First and foremost, GM cannot leave Michigan, but just leaving Detroit, even for Warren, would be a painful blow.
If Fritz H. is out there and happens to be a fan of my blog (hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha), please do everything in your power to keep GM in Detroit and Michigan. On top of that, if you could help make the company profitable, viable, secure, and environmentally friendly, that would be swell. No problem, right? Right?
I was startled earlier this morning to read the headline "GM Ducks Question About Moving HQ" in The Freep and immediately more or less started to calmly freak out. Moving headquarters out of Detroit? Southeast Michigan? Michigan? The Midwest? The U.S.?
A little more reading over the course of the day has led to different types of speculation with varying degree of doom. Fortune reports "GM Home Likely to Stay Put in Detroit" and someone somewhere else speculated that GM may consolidate its operations into the expansive technical center in Warren.
From a business standpoint, I can't speak in depth to the benefits of GM moving HQ from one place to another, but from a Michigan standpoint, I hope to all gods of all religions that GM can find success while staying put in the Renaissance Center. In fact, I there aren't too many things worse for the state than GM moving out of the D. Michigan needs a healthy Detroit in its ongoing fight to change perception of Michigan as a whole. GM has put in a considerable amount of money toward this end - from massively overhauling the RenCen to funding a significant portion of the RiverWalk to bringing additional employees downtown to fill Detroit's streets and stores, and probably lots of things I can't recall off the top of my head. First and foremost, GM cannot leave Michigan, but just leaving Detroit, even for Warren, would be a painful blow.
If Fritz H. is out there and happens to be a fan of my blog (hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha), please do everything in your power to keep GM in Detroit and Michigan. On top of that, if you could help make the company profitable, viable, secure, and environmentally friendly, that would be swell. No problem, right? Right?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
A Foote By Any Other Name
There are those of us out there like me - and probably you if you read my blog. Either that or you love cleverness and insane hilarity. One of these people is Larry Foote.
As reported yesterday, Larry Foote, professional football linebacker, is joining the Detroit Lions with a one year contract. That is just about the most kick ass thing I could imagine, for a few different reasons.
Foote is from Detroit, played football at Detroit Pershing and the University of Michigan, and is one of those people out there who gives me the little glimmer of hope and pride I need to keep going sometimes. He has two Super Bowl championships with the Pittsburgh Steelers and was released from his contract to make room for a recent Pittsburgh draft choice. Over the past years, Foote has spoken glowlingly about the possibility of returning to Detroit to play football for the Lions, despite their abysmal suckiness. He is a guy who absolutely loves Detroit, and is of Michigan. Here's a passage from Michael Rosenberg's column in The Free Press today.
There are a few things you need to understand about Foote. One is that he is a Detroiter and absolutely loves the city. He plans to live here for the rest of his life, no matter where his football career takes him.
On nighttime national TV broadcasts, when players are asked to introduce themselves to the audience by announcing their name, position and college, Foote always says "Larry Foote, linebacker, Detroit Pershing Doughboys."
There are many reasons why Foote is coming to the Lions, but the fact that he seems to truly love the city, despite its numerous bumps and bruises, makes me want to give him a big huge hug and take him out to dinner. I don't think any one individual can be a savior for a football team, but that doesn't matter. It makes me more proud to know that other people are proud - especially rich and famous people who could go anywhere and afford anything.
All of this is why I am proud to announce the unendorsed and completely unaware officially unofficial mascot of We Are Of Michigan, Larry Foote. I will donate 10 cents for every tackle that he makes for the Lions from my left pocket to my right pocket.
If you have the love, spread it around - let it be known. Larry Foote, unofficial and totally unaware mascot of We Are Of Michigan, agrees with and supports you.
As reported yesterday, Larry Foote, professional football linebacker, is joining the Detroit Lions with a one year contract. That is just about the most kick ass thing I could imagine, for a few different reasons.
Foote is from Detroit, played football at Detroit Pershing and the University of Michigan, and is one of those people out there who gives me the little glimmer of hope and pride I need to keep going sometimes. He has two Super Bowl championships with the Pittsburgh Steelers and was released from his contract to make room for a recent Pittsburgh draft choice. Over the past years, Foote has spoken glowlingly about the possibility of returning to Detroit to play football for the Lions, despite their abysmal suckiness. He is a guy who absolutely loves Detroit, and is of Michigan. Here's a passage from Michael Rosenberg's column in The Free Press today.
There are a few things you need to understand about Foote. One is that he is a Detroiter and absolutely loves the city. He plans to live here for the rest of his life, no matter where his football career takes him.
On nighttime national TV broadcasts, when players are asked to introduce themselves to the audience by announcing their name, position and college, Foote always says "Larry Foote, linebacker, Detroit Pershing Doughboys."
There are many reasons why Foote is coming to the Lions, but the fact that he seems to truly love the city, despite its numerous bumps and bruises, makes me want to give him a big huge hug and take him out to dinner. I don't think any one individual can be a savior for a football team, but that doesn't matter. It makes me more proud to know that other people are proud - especially rich and famous people who could go anywhere and afford anything.
All of this is why I am proud to announce the unendorsed and completely unaware officially unofficial mascot of We Are Of Michigan, Larry Foote. I will donate 10 cents for every tackle that he makes for the Lions from my left pocket to my right pocket.
If you have the love, spread it around - let it be known. Larry Foote, unofficial and totally unaware mascot of We Are Of Michigan, agrees with and supports you.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
I'm Home
Friends, Countrymen, Fellow Michigan People, Lovers -
I apologize for not posting to let the loyal fans out there know that I was going to be out of town from last Friday until right at this second. I was going to write something on Thursday night and pretty much completely ran out of town. I was literally doing work up until the moment I walked out the door to start the trip. In my dreams, at some point in the future my lack of posts may cause a few people to leave comments saying something like "Ken, where are you? My life is not quite the same without your insight." Maybe some day...
I love being home.
Over the past five days, I had the privilege to travel to Arizona with 5 other truly fantastic and fun people to hike around and soak up some nature. We had a blast, but there is something so satisfying to me about the feeling of cruising back to my home through Michigan's streets and walking into my home through the side door. As fun as vacation always is, I often also find happiness at the end of the trip when I get to complete one-ness with my home state. It's something about the air, the smell, my legacy connection, our shared mutual struggles that shape us together - vacation starts and ends at home.
I apologize for not posting to let the loyal fans out there know that I was going to be out of town from last Friday until right at this second. I was going to write something on Thursday night and pretty much completely ran out of town. I was literally doing work up until the moment I walked out the door to start the trip. In my dreams, at some point in the future my lack of posts may cause a few people to leave comments saying something like "Ken, where are you? My life is not quite the same without your insight." Maybe some day...
I love being home.
Over the past five days, I had the privilege to travel to Arizona with 5 other truly fantastic and fun people to hike around and soak up some nature. We had a blast, but there is something so satisfying to me about the feeling of cruising back to my home through Michigan's streets and walking into my home through the side door. As fun as vacation always is, I often also find happiness at the end of the trip when I get to complete one-ness with my home state. It's something about the air, the smell, my legacy connection, our shared mutual struggles that shape us together - vacation starts and ends at home.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Those Beautiful Trees that Smell Like Poop
The title says it all, folks. I love almost everything about spring, even when the dogs get really wet and muddy from all of the rain. Ah, there is nothing better than the start of baseball, the greening of the trees overhanging the streets in Royal Oak and across Michigan, people returning to the outdoors - it's just about perfect. The singular thing that I absolutely hate about spring are those terrible, horrid, disgusting flowering white trees with blossoms that smell like a combination of turd and vomit. An almighty creator was in the midst of creating these trees on the 6th day, but then got a serious case of food poisoning and really screwed something up. People say that God is infallible, but this is the closest evidence in nature I have to a couple of mistakes here and there. I'm not insulting your faith, just these trees. From everything I can tell, they are called "bradford pear trees", but instead I call them "those trees that smell like poop and make me want to die."These trees range from quite small to gigantic, and the bigger the tree, the bigger the dump you think someone took on your lawn. They line the streets of Ann Arbor, are incredibly prominent along most of the path of my run, and make me love life just a little bit less. The most frustrating thing about them is that they are visually pretty and they seem to be fairly robust, and I fear that their popularity is picking up steam. If only people would get close enough to smell and realize where that smell is coming from, I think that could finally be the end of the bradford pear tree. Go out for a walk, and when you think you stepped in something, you're standing near a bradford pear tree.
I am a bit hypersensitive when it comes to all of my senses - taste, touch, smell, hearing, telekinesis - and often when I am bothered by something, I am overreacting to reality. In the case of these trees, I am dead on. The smell invades your lungs and makes it hard to breathe. Similar to how I want less nuts in my trail mix, I want less of these trees on the planet.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thanks 'Stones
Unlike the past several years, sports fans (and unwitting significant others of sports fans) will not have the privilege to cheer for our Detroit Pistons until the very end of spring. For the past decade+, the Pistons have been a successful force in professional basketball. They have won a championship, barely lost in the finals the following year (Bowen!!!!), and have consistently gone deep into the playoffs. They proudly represented Detroit's "every man" work ethic and maintained a streak of consistent basketball dominance. Dominance doesn't necessarily mean "best team in basketball", but they were a part of basketball's ruling elite for consecutive years. This group of core individuals really defined and stayed true to the concept of team, and the fans gave their Pistons an abundant supply of support (and money).
Without going into the specifics of when, over the last year or so, our team fell off of its leadership perch. The team aged, a key player was traded, coaches changed many times over, and many of the guys on the team seemed to turn into a group of grumbling and complaining old men shaking their fists at the basketball authorities and unkindly asking them to "get off their lawn." You know things were getting hard when the team thought they were playing basketball on a lawn.
This weekend, the end came swiftly when the Cleveland Cavaliers swept the Pistons out of the playoffs in the first round. For the few minutes I caught of several of the games, it didn't seem like the Pistons cared. The Cavaliers would drive to the hoop, take a brief respite in the key for tea, and then finish off the scoring drive without any interference from the Pistons. It was like our boys couldn't be bothered to participate. It was sad and difficult to watch after so much success, strength, and swagger, but the end was bound to come, and we could see it coming for the past couple years.
With the series being so difficult to watch and the unceremonious ending, I haven't been surprised by the negative onslaught toward the Pistons from fans and media. It was ugly and people are right to feel disappointed, but you shouldn't allow this year to tarnish the years of fun, excitement, and success the Pistons provided to Michigan sports fans. Perhaps people are angry because the Pistons downfall seems to mirror the current struggles of much of Michigan, and every single loss hits a little bit too close to home.
I would love the Pistons to return to the highs of years past sooner rather than later, but I also hope team ownership, management, and all of the players feel the pride they imparted to me and others as we were able to throw ourselves into the Pistons every spring during the playoff run. The end, as with every end, is difficult to take, but the rest was so damn fun.
Without going into the specifics of when, over the last year or so, our team fell off of its leadership perch. The team aged, a key player was traded, coaches changed many times over, and many of the guys on the team seemed to turn into a group of grumbling and complaining old men shaking their fists at the basketball authorities and unkindly asking them to "get off their lawn." You know things were getting hard when the team thought they were playing basketball on a lawn.
This weekend, the end came swiftly when the Cleveland Cavaliers swept the Pistons out of the playoffs in the first round. For the few minutes I caught of several of the games, it didn't seem like the Pistons cared. The Cavaliers would drive to the hoop, take a brief respite in the key for tea, and then finish off the scoring drive without any interference from the Pistons. It was like our boys couldn't be bothered to participate. It was sad and difficult to watch after so much success, strength, and swagger, but the end was bound to come, and we could see it coming for the past couple years.
With the series being so difficult to watch and the unceremonious ending, I haven't been surprised by the negative onslaught toward the Pistons from fans and media. It was ugly and people are right to feel disappointed, but you shouldn't allow this year to tarnish the years of fun, excitement, and success the Pistons provided to Michigan sports fans. Perhaps people are angry because the Pistons downfall seems to mirror the current struggles of much of Michigan, and every single loss hits a little bit too close to home.
I would love the Pistons to return to the highs of years past sooner rather than later, but I also hope team ownership, management, and all of the players feel the pride they imparted to me and others as we were able to throw ourselves into the Pistons every spring during the playoff run. The end, as with every end, is difficult to take, but the rest was so damn fun.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Auto-Tune is Ruining the World
I'm not normally one to throw in a video that is completely irrelevant to anything else, but I saw this just a few minutes ago on TV Squad and I thought it warranted further exposure to the We Are Of Michigan family (and we are family, so get ready to give me your kidneys when I need them). There are two reasons why I wanted to include this video. First, I haven't had anything multimedia (even non-moving pictures) in my blog in quite some time. Second, this video is based on a technology called Auto-Tune that I absolutely hate (you can read more about it here). This technology takes anything that you are saying/singing, and puts it exactly on key. It's nifty technology, but it completely removes the need for actually having talent. It's a performance enhancer, just like steroids, viagra, or my pheromones. If Auto-Tune is legal for artists to make billions of dollars performing, why is it not OK for athletes to use steroids for the same purpose? I'm not saying that I am pro-steroid use (definitely not), but I feel this is an apt analogy (otherwise I would not have attempted to use it). If you require technology to make you sound good, you shouldn't be in the business of sounding good. There have also been numerous artists who do not sound good and still have figured out how to make money with their talent (Neil Young), so stop cheating already! Auto-Tune is Ruining the World, and you know it's true as soon as Katie Couric and Hillary Clinton have teamed up in a single that could legitimately make it onto the Billboard Hot 100. However, this video is pretty cool and I have no problem using Auto-Tune for this kind of thing. Shawty.
New Marketing Approach: Our Air Won't Kill You Any Faster
A couple days after Earth Day, 2009, let's all take a moment to celebrate this article from The Detroit News. I have some Simpsons reference on the tip of my brain based on the reading, but I just can't bring it to full recall, so you and I will both have to imagine that whatever I was going to say here was going to be absolutely hilarious.
In the article, it states “Metro Detroit and its surrounding counties now are considered within the federal standards for the amount of smog in the air.” This indicates that prior to April 2009, Metro Detroit was not within federal standards for the amount of smog in the air. I would be interested (and probably could find out with the slightest bit of research) to find out if metro LA meets EPA standards and other places that are known for their smog and other gross air thingies. Michigan should really latch on to this type of standard-matching feedback and develop some momentum behind it. “Michigan: The number of people who die in factory accidents is not significantly greater than other states.” I want to celebrate our no-longer-failed grades in air quality, but it’s too bad that this topic even required a mention. It’s not like you would say to someone on your first date “Good news Jill ! I no longer have herpes.” Maybe you would say that on your first date, but then it is very unlikely that you are the kind of person who has first dates.
In the article, it states “Metro Detroit and its surrounding counties now are considered within the federal standards for the amount of smog in the air.” This indicates that prior to April 2009, Metro Detroit was not within federal standards for the amount of smog in the air. I would be interested (and probably could find out with the slightest bit of research) to find out if metro LA meets EPA standards and other places that are known for their smog and other gross air thingies. Michigan should really latch on to this type of standard-matching feedback and develop some momentum behind it. “Michigan: The number of people who die in factory accidents is not significantly greater than other states.” I want to celebrate our no-longer-failed grades in air quality, but it’s too bad that this topic even required a mention. It’s not like you would say to someone on your first date “Good news Jill ! I no longer have herpes.” Maybe you would say that on your first date, but then it is very unlikely that you are the kind of person who has first dates.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Where are you Going?
I find the airline industry fascinating. Perhaps of the many things that fascinate me in this business is that at all times of the day, there are is a subset of several people in one location who want/need to go to every other location in the world. Right now it is Wednesday at 8:40 pm PST and I am sitting in the San Francisco Airport waiting for my 9:40 flight back to Detroit (unfortunately I will not be able to post this until I am back in Royal Oak with an internet connection. Seriously, what is up with that? The airport is 20 minutes from the most technologically based center in the world and they charge you for airport internet access. That makes no sense). This flight does not get back home until 5:00 am, at which point I need to groggily drive back to my home to grab a few hours of sleep. This isn’t the most pleasant time to fly, and I always get so hungry on red-eyes that I want to eat my arm. Despite these facts, this flight is absolutely, totally , completely full. How can that be?
I absolutely love Michigan and it is the place that I want to be, but I can think of no possible reason that this many people have a reason to take an overnight flight from San Francisco to Detroit. I imagine some of them have connecting flights out of DTW, some of them are on business (though probably not many – Wednesday night is a pretty light business travel night), and some of them live in Michigan, but it’s hard for me to imagine that the combination of these three things amounts to a completely full airplane. It’s an enigma to which I will likely never know the answer, and the next random night I’m flying from California to Detroit, I bet you that plane will be completely full as well. I don’t claim to fully understand the business model, but with all of the newer flying fees (I had to pay $50 extra for something called an “ego accommodation fee”) and full airplanes, is it even possible for the airline business to make a profit?
I absolutely love Michigan and it is the place that I want to be, but I can think of no possible reason that this many people have a reason to take an overnight flight from San Francisco to Detroit. I imagine some of them have connecting flights out of DTW, some of them are on business (though probably not many – Wednesday night is a pretty light business travel night), and some of them live in Michigan, but it’s hard for me to imagine that the combination of these three things amounts to a completely full airplane. It’s an enigma to which I will likely never know the answer, and the next random night I’m flying from California to Detroit, I bet you that plane will be completely full as well. I don’t claim to fully understand the business model, but with all of the newer flying fees (I had to pay $50 extra for something called an “ego accommodation fee”) and full airplanes, is it even possible for the airline business to make a profit?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
A Simple Soup and Salad
As you have assuredly been anticipating with excitement, I would like to tell you about my saga yesterday of ordering a soup and salad combo.
For lunch yesterday, my parents, brother, and I headed out to Champps in Troy - a regular family lunch destination. We often head that way because they have an appropriately diverse menu, large portion sizes, and an ice cream dessert big enough to make you want to push over your grandma to eat. One piece of The Mile High Ice Cream Pie is enough for four members of my family, and that is saying a lot. Anyway, I wanted something on the healthier side because I knew I would not be eating that well during my current trip to California, so I ordered a universal menu staple of "Bowl of Soup and Side Salad" with french onion soup and a garden salad. My dad ordered "a cup" of the soup of the day (this is key for later in my story). The first primary offense of the meal was that I absolutely hate when the two items come out at different times. When this happens, I typically remember it is my fault because quite a few restaurants bring out the salad and soup sequentially, but today, THE SOUP CAME OUT BEFORE THE SALAD. On what planet does someone want a garden side salad with light italian dressing as their "entree"? I'll tell you which planet - crazy planet. Not only was it unfortunate that the food came out at different times, but the salad was the main course. I should have remembered to explicitly state "bring out at same time", but also possibly the server should have asked me what would work for me.
The next and more significant sin of the meal was when my soup came out (early), the bowl was the exact same size as my dad's cup of soup. I didn't think too much of it except that it seemed a little bit small, but I assumed I misunderstood my dad's order or something like that. Where it gets really crazy is that as I was trying to nurse this paltry quantity of liquid until everyone else's food arrived, the party at the next table started to get their orders, and they had huge bowls of soup. When the waiter came around again, I asked "is this the bowl of soup" and he said, get this, "yeah, uh, but what we call a bowl is a cup." So I said "what is that they're eating over there," and he said, "that's a crock." On what planet does anyone call a cup a bowl and a bowl a crock? I'll tell you which planet - crazy planet. OK so maybe they have a shifted naming convention, but never in my life have I ordered a "bowl of soup and salad" and not gotten the largest serving size of soup available, except on crazy planet Champps. If you're going to break from all normal practices of the world, at least let me know that a bowl is a cup and a crock is a bowl and that my bowlcup is going to come out 10 hours before my salad. I hope you're as disheveled from this event as I remain, more than 36 hours later.
The last thing that was quite weird about this meal is that the party next to us (the people with the awesome crocks) was some sort of peculiar BMW enthusiast club, or possibly a group of people with 15-20 BMWs who all decided to eat at Champps at the exact same time on Sunday, eat at the same table, and park all of their cars next to each other facing outward. "Hey guys, we're going to lunch. Bring the car!" I don't think I will ever understand roving clubs of BMW enthusiasts. Where were they going next and why were they going there? We don't have sweeping European roads twisting through the hilly countryside, and I don't think you can take road trips in the same way you can if you belong to a biker gang. As best as I could tell, it is a prime opportunity to wear pink polos, pop your collar high, sweep your male bangs to the side of your forehead, and feel superior to all the sad sack non-BMW owners around you.
For lunch yesterday, my parents, brother, and I headed out to Champps in Troy - a regular family lunch destination. We often head that way because they have an appropriately diverse menu, large portion sizes, and an ice cream dessert big enough to make you want to push over your grandma to eat. One piece of The Mile High Ice Cream Pie is enough for four members of my family, and that is saying a lot. Anyway, I wanted something on the healthier side because I knew I would not be eating that well during my current trip to California, so I ordered a universal menu staple of "Bowl of Soup and Side Salad" with french onion soup and a garden salad. My dad ordered "a cup" of the soup of the day (this is key for later in my story). The first primary offense of the meal was that I absolutely hate when the two items come out at different times. When this happens, I typically remember it is my fault because quite a few restaurants bring out the salad and soup sequentially, but today, THE SOUP CAME OUT BEFORE THE SALAD. On what planet does someone want a garden side salad with light italian dressing as their "entree"? I'll tell you which planet - crazy planet. Not only was it unfortunate that the food came out at different times, but the salad was the main course. I should have remembered to explicitly state "bring out at same time", but also possibly the server should have asked me what would work for me.
The next and more significant sin of the meal was when my soup came out (early), the bowl was the exact same size as my dad's cup of soup. I didn't think too much of it except that it seemed a little bit small, but I assumed I misunderstood my dad's order or something like that. Where it gets really crazy is that as I was trying to nurse this paltry quantity of liquid until everyone else's food arrived, the party at the next table started to get their orders, and they had huge bowls of soup. When the waiter came around again, I asked "is this the bowl of soup" and he said, get this, "yeah, uh, but what we call a bowl is a cup." So I said "what is that they're eating over there," and he said, "that's a crock." On what planet does anyone call a cup a bowl and a bowl a crock? I'll tell you which planet - crazy planet. OK so maybe they have a shifted naming convention, but never in my life have I ordered a "bowl of soup and salad" and not gotten the largest serving size of soup available, except on crazy planet Champps. If you're going to break from all normal practices of the world, at least let me know that a bowl is a cup and a crock is a bowl and that my bowlcup is going to come out 10 hours before my salad. I hope you're as disheveled from this event as I remain, more than 36 hours later.
The last thing that was quite weird about this meal is that the party next to us (the people with the awesome crocks) was some sort of peculiar BMW enthusiast club, or possibly a group of people with 15-20 BMWs who all decided to eat at Champps at the exact same time on Sunday, eat at the same table, and park all of their cars next to each other facing outward. "Hey guys, we're going to lunch. Bring the car!" I don't think I will ever understand roving clubs of BMW enthusiasts. Where were they going next and why were they going there? We don't have sweeping European roads twisting through the hilly countryside, and I don't think you can take road trips in the same way you can if you belong to a biker gang. As best as I could tell, it is a prime opportunity to wear pink polos, pop your collar high, sweep your male bangs to the side of your forehead, and feel superior to all the sad sack non-BMW owners around you.
Monday, April 20, 2009
The Wild West
Greetings from the land where everyone is pretty sure they know more about everything than you, California. I have some company business in the massively in debt Golden State until I fly back home overnight on Wednesday into Thursday morning. But don't think this means that I don't have lots to say - like today at lunch I ordered a bowl of soup and salad, and I had two whole reasons to be unhappy with the way things played out. Madness. If things feel a little more lonely in Michigan over the next three days and you're also feeling a hole in your soul that you just can't fill, it's probably because you're feeling the distance between you and me. Fill that hole with Twinkies and Battlestar Galactica, and I'm sure you'll make it through. Fret not.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Choose Wisely
This is a brief story from a few weeks ago that I meant to recap the day after it happened, but then I forgot. Because I've momentarily run out of things to talk about that aren't automobile related (wasn't it great to get zero stories today that didn't include the phrase "bankruptcy looms"?), I decided to go back and pull this 0 karat diamond out of the sack.
On this particularly day a few weeks ago, our 1.5-year-old female dog, Echo, got to that point in her life when she was not only capable, but very interested in baby making. This happens with female dogs about once a year and lasts for two very unfortunate weeks if you're not interested in being the proprietor of puppies. Part of managing this period of time (specifically if you also have a male dog that has fully functioning balls) was to make sure that she always had on a doggie diaper. Doggie diapers aren't much more stylish than baby or reverse baby diapers, so we often would put her in some very stylish dog underpants that were subtly colored and decorated with things like paw prints. For a dog diaper, they were about as cute as you could imagine. One of these days when she was wearing her dog undergarments I decided to take her on a run so I strapped her to my waist and hit the road. Right outside of our front gate was a mom and her three or four children between the ages of 6 and 12. They all kind of took a look at Echo and the mom asked me "We're wondering why your dog is wearing pants."
And I had a difficult choice to make.
All of these children were of the age where as soon as I answered with almost anything to their mom, I would instantly hear the chorus of "Mom, what's that mean?" I didn't want to put the mom in this position, and on top of that, I didn't want to be these children's anti-Peter Pan. "You mean dogs do what? Why do they do that? Gross!!!" My mind raced as I tried to figure out the best possible answer that would be explanatory but cryptic, clear but boring enough to the children that they wouldn't have any followup questions for their mom. I paused for a moment, raised my eyebrows and said, "Uh...she's.....in......season" with an inflection that wasn't quite a question and not quite declaratory. I couldn't have just said something like "we like our dog to wear pants" because that would make me look like a dillhole and if I had to choose between this woman's discomfort or me looking like a dillhole, I'll chose other person's discomfort the great majority of the time.
My main point is that if you see a dog wearing pants around town and there are children nearby, I recommend not asking the dog owner why his dog is wearing pants. If the answer is something non-biological, there is a very good chance that you don't want to be talking to that person in the first place. Dogs can wear sweaters, ponchos, sombreros, sunglasses, Uggs, necklaces, bowties, and gold chains, but never pants.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Demonizing Bonds
One of the most interesting issues (in my partially-informed view) about the slow crawl to nowhere that is this (hopefully not last) U.S. automobile industry chapter is the issue of the bondholders - specifically with respect to General Motors. The issue is quite simple - GM owes about $70B in debt to bondholders and the government is requiring the bondholders forgo a gigantic portion of this debt (somewhere around 80% or so) in exchange for equity (stock "ownership") that may or may not be worth anything weeks or months from now. (At this point, I have noticed that I have used more parentheses than even I typically use in a post, and I typically use a lot of parentheses. My apologies, but not really.) This seems like a good deal, right? If I owe you $70 and I say to you "here's $15, and then you own a small part of me, maybe my two big toes" I would say that I definitely come out ahead on that transaction. How are you supposed to recoup the value of my very valuable big toes? You can't, and that is kind of the situation bondholders are being asked to accept.
This group of debt holders almost entirely holds the key to GM's immediate bankruptcy or non-bankruptcy. If they accept this deal, along with the UAW and similar concessions, the government has indicated they will continue to support GM financially to keep it out of Chapter 11. Because they seemingly hold so much power and have mostly seemed entirely unwilling to compromise, they're kind of coming across and being portrayed as a bunch of huge dicks. I've felt my anger and resentment toward the bondholders growing exponentially as I regularly read articles that say that those with the debt holdings are not budging at all. The pro-GM side of the argument seems obvious as well - if GM does go into bankruptcy, it is likely that the bondholders will end up with even less value from their bonds than GM is currently offering to them. Why not just take the deal and save everyone a little heartache?
Today, I came to the conclusion that while I want nothing more than for the bondholders to take the deal and GM to stay completely out of bankruptcy (everyone loses, but less than in the alternative), this group is getting a little bit of a bum wrap - at least from me. If I give you $5, I sure as sunshine want you to give me back my $5. If I give you $5B, I will handcuff myself to you until you pay me back with interest and maybe a nice big hug because of my benevolent generosity. We're in one of the biggest, craziest, scariest, most ball-bustingest games of chicken of all time, and I fear that neither of these lumbering steamboats are going to swerve. This is a pleasant and unplanned segue into a quote from the brilliant but dead (don't do drugs kids) Mitch Hedberg.
"I wrote a letter to my dad - I wrote, 'I really enjoy being here,' but I accidentally wrote rarely instead of really. But I still wanted to use it so I crossed it out and wrote, 'I rarely drive steamboats, dad - there's a lot of shit you don't know about me. Quit trying to act like I'm a steamboat operator.' This letter took a harsh turn right away... "
This group of debt holders almost entirely holds the key to GM's immediate bankruptcy or non-bankruptcy. If they accept this deal, along with the UAW and similar concessions, the government has indicated they will continue to support GM financially to keep it out of Chapter 11. Because they seemingly hold so much power and have mostly seemed entirely unwilling to compromise, they're kind of coming across and being portrayed as a bunch of huge dicks. I've felt my anger and resentment toward the bondholders growing exponentially as I regularly read articles that say that those with the debt holdings are not budging at all. The pro-GM side of the argument seems obvious as well - if GM does go into bankruptcy, it is likely that the bondholders will end up with even less value from their bonds than GM is currently offering to them. Why not just take the deal and save everyone a little heartache?
Today, I came to the conclusion that while I want nothing more than for the bondholders to take the deal and GM to stay completely out of bankruptcy (everyone loses, but less than in the alternative), this group is getting a little bit of a bum wrap - at least from me. If I give you $5, I sure as sunshine want you to give me back my $5. If I give you $5B, I will handcuff myself to you until you pay me back with interest and maybe a nice big hug because of my benevolent generosity. We're in one of the biggest, craziest, scariest, most ball-bustingest games of chicken of all time, and I fear that neither of these lumbering steamboats are going to swerve. This is a pleasant and unplanned segue into a quote from the brilliant but dead (don't do drugs kids) Mitch Hedberg.
"I wrote a letter to my dad - I wrote, 'I really enjoy being here,' but I accidentally wrote rarely instead of really. But I still wanted to use it so I crossed it out and wrote, 'I rarely drive steamboats, dad - there's a lot of shit you don't know about me. Quit trying to act like I'm a steamboat operator.' This letter took a harsh turn right away... "
Monday, April 13, 2009
Bang the Drum
After a very nice Easter weekend with no less than 3 family events on Sunday, I was feeling pretty good last night. I had taken care of some work over the weekend, the Tigers had swept their series with the Rangers, I had caught up on most of the reserved shows on my TiVo, and everyone on all sides and angles of the family seemed to be in pretty decent spirits. The weather is currently holding steady in the spring range and Americans seem to be regaining confidence that they can purchase whatever they want with no repercussions. It almost seems like I could start to believe that Michigan will find a way to pull through all of this with some major casualties, but still alive. That is, until The New York Times reports on another story about a possible bankruptcy at GM. At this point, it's not that I have a problem with the specific subject matter of the story. I accept that there are increasing odds that GM will need to file for bankruptcy prior to the June 1st deadline with the intent of quickly emerging from bankruptcy as a leaner, stronger corporation. However, there are (that I can think of right now) two specific things that I find extremely frustrating and upsetting in the way this story continues to evolve.
First, is there any news here beyond a headline from The Wall Street Journal last week that GM is in "earnest and intense preparations" for a bankruptcy filing? This headline was captured by all news dissipation services mid-last week and caused quite a stir at that time. Now, someone rearranged some of the words, added a couple comments about Obama's concerns, and reprinted the article in a different newspaper. Again today, the news dissipation services have grabbed this story and are essentially touting "nothing new to report since last week but here we are reporting it anyway - just to freak you out."
Second, stories like this about GM are always based on people "who are not authorized to speak on the matter." I know that confidential and unauthorized sources are the way that news is created, but Fritz Henderson (GM's current CEO) and Obama have pledged transparency in this subject. If this is the case, why does our fear continue to be driven by unnamed and unauthorized sources? I have as much reason to believe these sources are correct as they are incorrect. Our collective psychology is being ripped around by unnamed sources when what we need, good news or bad, is someone who is authorized to tell us something to tell us the truth.
I don't think anyone can truly know which path is best (short and long-term) for the company, its employees, shareholders, bondholders, communities, and tax recipients, and yet, people argue with so much vigor and certainty about such a complex and wide-ranging issue it amazes me. You don't know the answer, and if you're lucky (not smart), you'll happen to turn out to be right. The next 1-2 months are going to be difficult enough for all of us affected by this story, and this will be made even worse when the story continues to be owned and driven by the mumbling and grumbling of unknown shadowy figures. The truth will likely hurt, but we need to hear it from someone truthful and authorized. Here's hoping for the best (whatever that is).
First, is there any news here beyond a headline from The Wall Street Journal last week that GM is in "earnest and intense preparations" for a bankruptcy filing? This headline was captured by all news dissipation services mid-last week and caused quite a stir at that time. Now, someone rearranged some of the words, added a couple comments about Obama's concerns, and reprinted the article in a different newspaper. Again today, the news dissipation services have grabbed this story and are essentially touting "nothing new to report since last week but here we are reporting it anyway - just to freak you out."
Second, stories like this about GM are always based on people "who are not authorized to speak on the matter." I know that confidential and unauthorized sources are the way that news is created, but Fritz Henderson (GM's current CEO) and Obama have pledged transparency in this subject. If this is the case, why does our fear continue to be driven by unnamed and unauthorized sources? I have as much reason to believe these sources are correct as they are incorrect. Our collective psychology is being ripped around by unnamed sources when what we need, good news or bad, is someone who is authorized to tell us something to tell us the truth.
I don't think anyone can truly know which path is best (short and long-term) for the company, its employees, shareholders, bondholders, communities, and tax recipients, and yet, people argue with so much vigor and certainty about such a complex and wide-ranging issue it amazes me. You don't know the answer, and if you're lucky (not smart), you'll happen to turn out to be right. The next 1-2 months are going to be difficult enough for all of us affected by this story, and this will be made even worse when the story continues to be owned and driven by the mumbling and grumbling of unknown shadowy figures. The truth will likely hurt, but we need to hear it from someone truthful and authorized. Here's hoping for the best (whatever that is).
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
One of Them, One of Us
Yes, for some unknown reason Steve and I continue to watch Heroes. To its credit, the last couple episodes have been far more focused, far less idiotic, and there is a small chance that the show will return to less suck with the full-on return of Mr. Brian Fuller (R.I.P. Pushing Daisies). The only reason I mention this now is because in the show, there are several repetitive mantras and one of those mantras is "One of Them, One of Us." I normally fall asleep before they finish explaining what it means, but I believe it has something to do with teaming up one person with super powers and one person with unsuper powers to do...something - maybe making babies I'm not too sure and I don't care if I ever figure it out. I prefer to think they're making babies.
A couple years ago, Comerica Bank gave Detroit the middle finger when it picked up camp and fled to the second or third nicest sand bucket in Texas, Dallas. They took with them some corporate jobs, an ages-old Detroit institution, and another handful of our local pride. Today, we return that middle finger back to Dallas when home builder Pulte Homes announced they would be purchasing Centex Homes (based in Dallas) to combine to make the biggest home builder in the United States. Shockingly, the home field of this combined corporation is going to be in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan and retain the name Pulte Homes. In some respects, home builders carry some blame for the current economic malaise by producing far too many unnecessary homes, creating a glut of inventory, and driving down the price of your house. This is a bit of a shortsighted view because they would likely not have produced the homes if people who did not qualify for loans were offered loans. All of these issues aside, it's kind of cool to have the biggest home builder in the country based in Bloomfield Hills. Don't get too excited - with the way things are going, there's always a chance that the newspapers tomorrow will be like "April 8th Fools - Pulte's moving to Texas!" but it's one day of decent Michigan corporate news in a sea of less good days. Don't look now, but we have the biggest home builder in the country, the second biggest hub of the largest airline, Little Caesars and Domino's, and 48% of the entire domestic automobile market. With Hollywood essentially deciding that it's moving to Michigan (wouldn't that be awesome? Jerks everywhere - but also maybe a few more jobs) and my blog, Michigan is also well on its way to being the media center of the universe. Now if we could just corner the revenue-rich pornography empire, we'd really be moving in the right direction.
A couple years ago, Comerica Bank gave Detroit the middle finger when it picked up camp and fled to the second or third nicest sand bucket in Texas, Dallas. They took with them some corporate jobs, an ages-old Detroit institution, and another handful of our local pride. Today, we return that middle finger back to Dallas when home builder Pulte Homes announced they would be purchasing Centex Homes (based in Dallas) to combine to make the biggest home builder in the United States. Shockingly, the home field of this combined corporation is going to be in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan and retain the name Pulte Homes. In some respects, home builders carry some blame for the current economic malaise by producing far too many unnecessary homes, creating a glut of inventory, and driving down the price of your house. This is a bit of a shortsighted view because they would likely not have produced the homes if people who did not qualify for loans were offered loans. All of these issues aside, it's kind of cool to have the biggest home builder in the country based in Bloomfield Hills. Don't get too excited - with the way things are going, there's always a chance that the newspapers tomorrow will be like "April 8th Fools - Pulte's moving to Texas!" but it's one day of decent Michigan corporate news in a sea of less good days. Don't look now, but we have the biggest home builder in the country, the second biggest hub of the largest airline, Little Caesars and Domino's, and 48% of the entire domestic automobile market. With Hollywood essentially deciding that it's moving to Michigan (wouldn't that be awesome? Jerks everywhere - but also maybe a few more jobs) and my blog, Michigan is also well on its way to being the media center of the universe. Now if we could just corner the revenue-rich pornography empire, we'd really be moving in the right direction.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
In Stride
Almost every single day, something bad happens to you, me, or that guy over there. It is an unfortunate circumstance of life, and most of the time, I'd like to think that the number of good things that happen far outweigh the bad. Regretfully for now, it seems like bad and good are racing neck and neck with the real chance that bad is going to win this round. Super sucky, yes. In Michigan we are face-to-face with the bad on many levels and yet continue to embrace any silver lining that may creep onto the horizon.
With this in mind, I'd like to remind you that no matter who you are, no matter what you're doing right now, things could be oh so worse and that alone may be able to help you take your day a little more in stride. For example, I was taking my early evening run during today's unseasonably cold day, when a large white lump fell from the sky and landed not more than 2 feet away from me directly in my path. If that bird had decided to wait just 2 more seconds to hold his poo, I would have had bird turd frozen in my hair, about 2 miles from my house. So despite everything else that is challenging right now, I'd like to thank that bird for not holding it and keeping me relatively clean and comfortable on this slightly-better-than-it-could-have-been day .
No matter who you are, no matter what you're doing, I promise you things would be worse if a bird took a crap in your hair right at this second. This is a ridiculous (and true) example, but take just a second today/tomorrow/next week to appreciate all of the things that you do not have to deal with right now. These don't have to be crazy things like "I built a time machine and ended up on the maiden voyage of the Titanic", because there are several very possible things that, for now, we do not have to confront.
Keep going guys.
With this in mind, I'd like to remind you that no matter who you are, no matter what you're doing right now, things could be oh so worse and that alone may be able to help you take your day a little more in stride. For example, I was taking my early evening run during today's unseasonably cold day, when a large white lump fell from the sky and landed not more than 2 feet away from me directly in my path. If that bird had decided to wait just 2 more seconds to hold his poo, I would have had bird turd frozen in my hair, about 2 miles from my house. So despite everything else that is challenging right now, I'd like to thank that bird for not holding it and keeping me relatively clean and comfortable on this slightly-better-than-it-could-have-been day .
No matter who you are, no matter what you're doing, I promise you things would be worse if a bird took a crap in your hair right at this second. This is a ridiculous (and true) example, but take just a second today/tomorrow/next week to appreciate all of the things that you do not have to deal with right now. These don't have to be crazy things like "I built a time machine and ended up on the maiden voyage of the Titanic", because there are several very possible things that, for now, we do not have to confront.
Keep going guys.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
BurgerFest-O-Rama #7 - Fiddleheads (the sad edition)
As I previously mentioned, my sister, husband and nephew made their way from Rochester, Minnesota to Royal Oak, MI for a very enjoyable family weekend together. They rolled into Michigan very early Friday morning, and one of my primary goals of their visit was to make sure that my sister and brother-in-law participated in my ongoing period of burger appreciation. After much discussion and thought to identify the best place to go (mostly didn't want to stray too far from home), we settled on a restaurant in Royal Oak called Fiddleheads. As with several of the restaurants on the list, I have long wanted to eat at Fiddleheads because anything I ever read about the place was quite positive. The one point of concern was that I knew the food was a little bit expensive, and because of this, the burger was categorized as another "Best High End Burger" (the second fancy pants burger I've eaten after the Town Tavern). To make things just a little bit more complicated, the burger isn't even technically on the dinner menu (the time at which we would be eating), so Steve took the time to call to make sure the burger was offered at dinner. The person he talked to seemed genuinely surprised that such a question was even on the table and enthusiastically responded that the burger was absolutely available for dinner. Success! We picked a place that met all the criteria.
And then the sadness fell.
Before we left for dinner, I fired up freep.com and read the headline "Royal Oak Fiddleheads eatery to close tomorrow". I've joked before that maybe one or two places would go out of business thereby reducing the number of restaurants at which I must eat burgers, but this is the very first time that this issue confronted me square in the face - another unfortunate victim of our challenging economic circumstances. We had a pow-wow and decided that either way the restaurant was going to close, so we might as well contribute our dollars to the outgoing staff and owners instead of steering clear. So Friday night Steve, Gail, Jeff, Maureen, and I hit the road to celebrate and mourn the five year life of Fiddleheads, located on 13 Mile Rd. just a bit east of Greenfield.
Fiddleheads more or less stands alone in a sea of condos on 13 Mile down the road from Beaumont Hospital. I fear that some people would not have anticipated fine dining in this unique location. The inside of the restaurant had a bunch of hanging light bulbs, the tables were covered in tablecloths, and the servers were dressed like those in an upscale casual establishment. The newspaper article indicated that the staff was aware of the situation, but they did not do anything sad or negative to indicate the unfortunate plight. I was more sad than most of the group, largely because it forced me to again reflect on our collective dream for better times and prosperity. Most of the items on the menu were in the $18-$30 range, so it definitely isn't (wasn't...sniff) a cheap night out.
As expected, the burger was not on the menu, but all of us knew that we wanted to order a burger. Jeff, Steve, and Maureen each took one for the team by ordering the Salmon, soup, and a salad (respectively), so that we were not a table of 5 people ordering the cheapest thing available that wasn't even on the menu. This is one of the occasional complications of BurgerFest-O-Rama. It's somewhat odd for a whole table to order a burger when there are so many other delicious-seeming things available on the menu. We placed our orders, and after a slightly longer than expected break, the food hit the table. Unfortunately in my hunger and sadness, I forgot to take my normal picture of the whole table filled with food. Here was the only morsel left on Maureen's plate as we neared the end of dinner.
The burgers came out looking exactly as I hoped. There was probably around 8 oz. of meat, stacked high on a bun that barely contained the burger. Standard condiments included tomato (two slices sliced to my ideal thickness), one small piece of romaine, red onions, and mayonnaise. There was even one tiny ring of onion actually baked into the top portion of the bun, which I thought was quite a nice touch. The burgers also came standard with cheese (pretty sure it was cheddar) melted very nicely over the meat, and the plate was filled out nicely with shoestring-fried potatoes. I thought the meal was delicious.
Pros: Of all the burgers so far, the meat had the most flavor (maybe just my optimal amount of salt), despite small bun, burger had stellar structure, I could actually taste the cheese (something I've been losing in recent burgers), shoestring-fried potatoes were in keeping with the more classy overall theme of the restaurant and also nicely salted, $9 with fries is a good deal for a "high end burger", wait staff very professional, the bun played a great supporting role in that it had its own distinct but not-overpowering flavor.
Cons: We all asked for medium and somehow some parts of the burgers were a bit less than medium, too much mayonnaise, the high surface area of the fries caused them to loose their heat almost instantly, too small piece of romaine, burger could have used more general warmth, no salt shaker on the table.
Overall, the flavor experience was probably the best I have had in this entire endeavor. My flavor memory can still taste the burger two days later, and there was a pretty strong consensus of deliciousness around the table. If the burgers were cooked more to our exact desires and contained more excited atoms and molecules (i.e. heat), I would proudly declare this burger my first FOUR HAMBURGLAR burger. In a normal world where the restaurant wasn't already closed (as of this writing), the official ruling would be three hamburglars, but in memory and honor of the fine establishment and its staff, I am going to award three hamburglars plus one sadness hamburglar.
Fiddleheads, I apologize for never eating within your walls before Friday night and I am sad that I will never again get to eat there. Now that I know what I was missing, I probably would have had more than a few burgers in your restaurant. You will be missed.
And then the sadness fell.
Before we left for dinner, I fired up freep.com and read the headline "Royal Oak Fiddleheads eatery to close tomorrow". I've joked before that maybe one or two places would go out of business thereby reducing the number of restaurants at which I must eat burgers, but this is the very first time that this issue confronted me square in the face - another unfortunate victim of our challenging economic circumstances. We had a pow-wow and decided that either way the restaurant was going to close, so we might as well contribute our dollars to the outgoing staff and owners instead of steering clear. So Friday night Steve, Gail, Jeff, Maureen, and I hit the road to celebrate and mourn the five year life of Fiddleheads, located on 13 Mile Rd. just a bit east of Greenfield.
Fiddleheads more or less stands alone in a sea of condos on 13 Mile down the road from Beaumont Hospital. I fear that some people would not have anticipated fine dining in this unique location. The inside of the restaurant had a bunch of hanging light bulbs, the tables were covered in tablecloths, and the servers were dressed like those in an upscale casual establishment. The newspaper article indicated that the staff was aware of the situation, but they did not do anything sad or negative to indicate the unfortunate plight. I was more sad than most of the group, largely because it forced me to again reflect on our collective dream for better times and prosperity. Most of the items on the menu were in the $18-$30 range, so it definitely isn't (wasn't...sniff) a cheap night out.
As expected, the burger was not on the menu, but all of us knew that we wanted to order a burger. Jeff, Steve, and Maureen each took one for the team by ordering the Salmon, soup, and a salad (respectively), so that we were not a table of 5 people ordering the cheapest thing available that wasn't even on the menu. This is one of the occasional complications of BurgerFest-O-Rama. It's somewhat odd for a whole table to order a burger when there are so many other delicious-seeming things available on the menu. We placed our orders, and after a slightly longer than expected break, the food hit the table. Unfortunately in my hunger and sadness, I forgot to take my normal picture of the whole table filled with food. Here was the only morsel left on Maureen's plate as we neared the end of dinner.
The burgers came out looking exactly as I hoped. There was probably around 8 oz. of meat, stacked high on a bun that barely contained the burger. Standard condiments included tomato (two slices sliced to my ideal thickness), one small piece of romaine, red onions, and mayonnaise. There was even one tiny ring of onion actually baked into the top portion of the bun, which I thought was quite a nice touch. The burgers also came standard with cheese (pretty sure it was cheddar) melted very nicely over the meat, and the plate was filled out nicely with shoestring-fried potatoes. I thought the meal was delicious.Pros: Of all the burgers so far, the meat had the most flavor (maybe just my optimal amount of salt), despite small bun, burger had stellar structure, I could actually taste the cheese (something I've been losing in recent burgers), shoestring-fried potatoes were in keeping with the more classy overall theme of the restaurant and also nicely salted, $9 with fries is a good deal for a "high end burger", wait staff very professional, the bun played a great supporting role in that it had its own distinct but not-overpowering flavor.
Cons: We all asked for medium and somehow some parts of the burgers were a bit less than medium, too much mayonnaise, the high surface area of the fries caused them to loose their heat almost instantly, too small piece of romaine, burger could have used more general warmth, no salt shaker on the table.
Overall, the flavor experience was probably the best I have had in this entire endeavor. My flavor memory can still taste the burger two days later, and there was a pretty strong consensus of deliciousness around the table. If the burgers were cooked more to our exact desires and contained more excited atoms and molecules (i.e. heat), I would proudly declare this burger my first FOUR HAMBURGLAR burger. In a normal world where the restaurant wasn't already closed (as of this writing), the official ruling would be three hamburglars, but in memory and honor of the fine establishment and its staff, I am going to award three hamburglars plus one sadness hamburglar.
Fiddleheads, I apologize for never eating within your walls before Friday night and I am sad that I will never again get to eat there. Now that I know what I was missing, I probably would have had more than a few burgers in your restaurant. You will be missed.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Sparse or Regular Updates
Hello all, and a happy weekend to ye. As a quick reminder, MSU will be fighting to save Michigan's entire economy tomorrow in a basketball game of "winner takes all bailout money", so make sure to throw that on and cheer for your home state.
On another note, my sister, her husband, and their baby blew into town last night, so I am largely going to be focusing on baby over the next couple days. This may or may not result in more or less updates than usual or unusual, so I just thought I would mention that things may or may not be different or the same. I'm leaning toward maybe.
On another note, my sister, her husband, and their baby blew into town last night, so I am largely going to be focusing on baby over the next couple days. This may or may not result in more or less updates than usual or unusual, so I just thought I would mention that things may or may not be different or the same. I'm leaning toward maybe.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Exodus
Today's edition of The Detroit News includes another obligatory article about the departure of young, smart, talented individuals and families from Michigan to perceived greener pastures. We've been hearing this for years, and I fought the instinct to click on the link and read this revision of the same story because there is absolutely nothing that it can add to my life or my understanding/appreciation of the problems. Yup, jobs are sadly scarce and I don't want anyone to have to leave family, friends, or home, but in our shrinking portion of the economy, this is an inevitable (though highly undesired) outcome.
As the domestic automobile industry shrinks and Michigan claws to find additional jobs to bring in to the state, the only natural outcome is that the population will undergo a downsizing much like the employment forces of the companies contained within our borders. To me, while disappointing and sad, Michigan became bloated to a completely unsustainable point, and there is simply no way that in the absence of new work, the same amount of people will be able to live here. The key is not to focus on people leaving, but to identify the point at which Michigan and its residents can hit the not-seen-in-a-long-time break even point and to work toward that size. Once you hit break even, you can look more effectively and successfully at how to grow. It is just another component of the painful changes required before success can again return. This is a sucky but necessary component of the road to possible recovery.
There is no point in trying to regain past glory or to realistically bring back the same quantity of high-paid manufacturing jobs, because that is not a path forward. People are going to leave and I am going to quietly mourn for every single one, but unfortunately, this may be the best option for these people and for the state. It could be me, it could be you. Perhaps with some planning and substantial luck, Michigan will have the opportunity to lure back its lost children because those children left. I don't want it to be this way and am open to different options, but I also realize that this may need to be the way.
As the domestic automobile industry shrinks and Michigan claws to find additional jobs to bring in to the state, the only natural outcome is that the population will undergo a downsizing much like the employment forces of the companies contained within our borders. To me, while disappointing and sad, Michigan became bloated to a completely unsustainable point, and there is simply no way that in the absence of new work, the same amount of people will be able to live here. The key is not to focus on people leaving, but to identify the point at which Michigan and its residents can hit the not-seen-in-a-long-time break even point and to work toward that size. Once you hit break even, you can look more effectively and successfully at how to grow. It is just another component of the painful changes required before success can again return. This is a sucky but necessary component of the road to possible recovery.
There is no point in trying to regain past glory or to realistically bring back the same quantity of high-paid manufacturing jobs, because that is not a path forward. People are going to leave and I am going to quietly mourn for every single one, but unfortunately, this may be the best option for these people and for the state. It could be me, it could be you. Perhaps with some planning and substantial luck, Michigan will have the opportunity to lure back its lost children because those children left. I don't want it to be this way and am open to different options, but I also realize that this may need to be the way.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Rally 'Round the Sparty, Pocket Full of, uh, Sparty
Tradition dictates that Michigan Wolverines do not like Michigan State Spartans. In simpler days, I would have said something like Spartans are inferior to Wolverines at everything but farming, drinking, and jealousy, but those days are behind me. There are not many people out there who lean toward sympathy, empathy, and understanding for the Great Lakes State and its residents, and it's no longer worth maintaining any type of real or imaginary feud with one of our few remaining allies. When times are flying high in our state years down the road, I will rejoin the ranks of the anti-Spartans with far more appreciation for having the leisure of focusing any time or attention on booing another in-state school.
I say all this, of course, because the Spartans are coming home to Detroit to fight for continued national glory in the Final Four this coming weekend. It is not as though a Michigan State victory will cure any of the ails we face or otherwise improve any of the real issues we encounter, but in more difficult times, any victory or piece of good news takes on so much more importance. It is fascinating to watch people from all collegiate walks of life banding together in Michigan sports bars and homes to cheer for the Spartans in the hopes of some success to add a small light to the gray.
I'm proud of Michigan State and genuinely happy for the students and fans that continue to follow the school through all of its basketball success. I don't think that college or professional sports actually mean anything of significance or that I'm saying anything deep right here, but with all the significant and painful battles currently on the table, I'm semi-permanently forgoing the pointlessness of this one and officially jumping on the MSU bandwagon. Go Spartans! Win one for Michigan.
I say all this, of course, because the Spartans are coming home to Detroit to fight for continued national glory in the Final Four this coming weekend. It is not as though a Michigan State victory will cure any of the ails we face or otherwise improve any of the real issues we encounter, but in more difficult times, any victory or piece of good news takes on so much more importance. It is fascinating to watch people from all collegiate walks of life banding together in Michigan sports bars and homes to cheer for the Spartans in the hopes of some success to add a small light to the gray.
I'm proud of Michigan State and genuinely happy for the students and fans that continue to follow the school through all of its basketball success. I don't think that college or professional sports actually mean anything of significance or that I'm saying anything deep right here, but with all the significant and painful battles currently on the table, I'm semi-permanently forgoing the pointlessness of this one and officially jumping on the MSU bandwagon. Go Spartans! Win one for Michigan.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Outrage
Of course you are all waiting on pins, needles, and other conifers for my thoughts on the BIG news of the last 24 hours, and here it is:
I, too, am outraged that state gas prices have risen 8 cents in the last week. What am I, made of gold?
I, too, am outraged that state gas prices have risen 8 cents in the last week. What am I, made of gold?
Friday, March 27, 2009
Gauging my Devotion
A pleasant and talented young chap named Matt Giraud is representing Michigan in the final 9 of the juggernaut we all know, love, and are sucked into the immense gravitation force that is American Idol. The good news is that he's legitimately talented and I don't have to throw blind support behind him simply because he is from Michigan. Here's where it gets complicated - in American Idol terms, support really only means voting for the person. Long ago when I started dabbling in the black arts that are American Idol, I swore to myself that I would never, ever participate in any variation of voting in this show.
"Dude, you watch American Idol?"
"Yeah, but it's cool, I don't vote."
Yesterday, Matt was in the bottom two and barely avoided elimination this week. This would have been disappointing for a number of reasons, but mostly because he definitely did not deserve to be in the bottom two based on the performances of Wednesday night (and the last few weeks). So begins the mental anguish of internally debating whether or not to pick up the phone and vote for the man, at which point I will have to sacrifice my firstborn male son per an earlier compromise between God, Satan, and Simon Cowell.
"Dude, you watch American Idol?"
"Yeah, but it's cool, I don't vote."
Yesterday, Matt was in the bottom two and barely avoided elimination this week. This would have been disappointing for a number of reasons, but mostly because he definitely did not deserve to be in the bottom two based on the performances of Wednesday night (and the last few weeks). So begins the mental anguish of internally debating whether or not to pick up the phone and vote for the man, at which point I will have to sacrifice my firstborn male son per an earlier compromise between God, Satan, and Simon Cowell.
The Craziest F#@king Thing I've Ever Seen on TV
Late tonight Steve and I were catching up on an episode of Lost from Wednesday night, and without giving anything too specific away, there was a room full of people and one of these people was all like "blah ba dee blah blah blah ba dee Ann Arbor." WTF??? Ann Arbor???? I missed it the first time around and Steve was like WTF and then I rewound it and he was right and I was like WTF!
I know that Lost has had some loose ties through the years to the University of Michigan, but this one was crazy and halfway knocked me out of my chair. I've been following the show relatively closely since its debut, and I would personally like to thank the creative team for incoporating the maize and blue into a clearly significant portion of the show's mythology. Ann Arbor. Kick ass. I'll always remember it - "blah ba dee blah blah blah ba dee Ann Arbor."
I know that Lost has had some loose ties through the years to the University of Michigan, but this one was crazy and halfway knocked me out of my chair. I've been following the show relatively closely since its debut, and I would personally like to thank the creative team for incoporating the maize and blue into a clearly significant portion of the show's mythology. Ann Arbor. Kick ass. I'll always remember it - "blah ba dee blah blah blah ba dee Ann Arbor."
Thursday, March 26, 2009
The Craziest F#@king Challenge I've Ever Heard
Again for the three of you who frequent my website, I know that you read about this and immediately thought of me. This assumes that you were not already thinking about me, which I admit, is not a good possibility. There's quite a bit to think about when thinking about me, so it could occupy more time than you're comfortable admitting. That's ok.
Long story big, the Grand Rapids Whitecaps, a minor league baseball team, proudly announced the Fifth Third Burger (named after their ballpark) this week. The burger is 4,800 calories, 1 and 2/3 pounds meat, 1 pound of bun dough, and I think an elephant takes a crap on the burger or something like that. Yes it's quite a few calories, and yes this one food item contains about 4 times the amount of my recommended sodium intake in a day, but have you ever felt a greater calling in your life, and just knew that you had to do something? People are called into the priesthood or to give their lives to community development, and I am called to eat this burger. I have to devise a game plan (as an aside, the movie The Game Plan featuring The Rock was called Maxi Papa in Spain for some non-translatable reason), and this is no simple undertaking. Someone who successfully eats the burger in one sitting gets the burger for free (otherwise $20) as well as a free Whitecaps hat and shirt. I'd rather have a shirt with a giant talking burger on it.
I may be over-inflating my eating abilities, but I am not particularly impressed by the size or scope of this burger. I'm pretty sure I've eaten this much weight, easily, in White Castle sliders at a few different times through my adolescent development in one sitting, and while I didn't feel perfect afterward, it was quite a quantity of foodstuffs. Nay, my biggest concern is truthfully the calories. As someone who regularly battles my hunger cravings and fluctuating weight, I know that I can eat no more than 2,500 calories in a day if I want to maintain my weight - even with my regularly running and workouts. On top of that, I'm trying to keep my weight down pre-wedding and bikini season is right around the corner. This burger would be my only allowable meal for almost two whole days, and there's no way I could make it through the second day without eating something. I don't need to eat the whole burger by myself, and this could be a great opportunity to get out and see Michigan and some minor league baseball with friends and/or loved ones and drop $20 on a burger to share.
This is a great marketing ploy by my friends on our west coast, and it may just have a desired affect of drawing me in to see some baseball. If they could combine a simultaneous viewing of Battlestar Galactica with burgers, baseball, and Michigan, I would much more seriously consider permanently setting down roots in Grand Rapids.
Long story big, the Grand Rapids Whitecaps, a minor league baseball team, proudly announced the Fifth Third Burger (named after their ballpark) this week. The burger is 4,800 calories, 1 and 2/3 pounds meat, 1 pound of bun dough, and I think an elephant takes a crap on the burger or something like that. Yes it's quite a few calories, and yes this one food item contains about 4 times the amount of my recommended sodium intake in a day, but have you ever felt a greater calling in your life, and just knew that you had to do something? People are called into the priesthood or to give their lives to community development, and I am called to eat this burger. I have to devise a game plan (as an aside, the movie The Game Plan featuring The Rock was called Maxi Papa in Spain for some non-translatable reason), and this is no simple undertaking. Someone who successfully eats the burger in one sitting gets the burger for free (otherwise $20) as well as a free Whitecaps hat and shirt. I'd rather have a shirt with a giant talking burger on it.
I may be over-inflating my eating abilities, but I am not particularly impressed by the size or scope of this burger. I'm pretty sure I've eaten this much weight, easily, in White Castle sliders at a few different times through my adolescent development in one sitting, and while I didn't feel perfect afterward, it was quite a quantity of foodstuffs. Nay, my biggest concern is truthfully the calories. As someone who regularly battles my hunger cravings and fluctuating weight, I know that I can eat no more than 2,500 calories in a day if I want to maintain my weight - even with my regularly running and workouts. On top of that, I'm trying to keep my weight down pre-wedding and bikini season is right around the corner. This burger would be my only allowable meal for almost two whole days, and there's no way I could make it through the second day without eating something. I don't need to eat the whole burger by myself, and this could be a great opportunity to get out and see Michigan and some minor league baseball with friends and/or loved ones and drop $20 on a burger to share.
This is a great marketing ploy by my friends on our west coast, and it may just have a desired affect of drawing me in to see some baseball. If they could combine a simultaneous viewing of Battlestar Galactica with burgers, baseball, and Michigan, I would much more seriously consider permanently setting down roots in Grand Rapids.
The Craziest F#@king Thing I've Ever Heard
This is a less funny version of a segment that I've stolen from The Colbert Report, here's an example.
Sometimes, crazy things strike you as hilarious, other times crazy things sort of stop you in your tracks, and there are those rare times when a story just seems too crazy to be true. Here is one such story The Detroit News pointed me to. In a small western Pennsylvania town of about 1,700 people called Ligonier, two brothers were forced to close down their auto dealership under the weight of the recession and declining automobile sales - something with which we are all too familiar. This could have been one of those stories where it is a melancholy reflection on the decline of the automobile industry and the impact on people in large towns, small towns, and employed by major corporations. Instead, it is a like a bizarro-world version of Where the Red Fern Grows where the boy kills his first dog, then the second dog killed the boy for killing the first dog, and then the second dog sets itself on fire, running through the corn fields setting them ablaze and destroying them before passing, and a whole field of red ferns grows over the disaster setting.
The older brother, Gregory, went out to his dealership in the middle of the night, set fire to several of the cars, and then had a heart attack as the burning continued. I don't know how one self-induces a heart attack, but assuming the attack came about in the natural way, this is a crazy coincidence and the model example for future generations for going down with the ship. The younger brother, Randolph, was found in his car, thought to have committed suicide that very same weekend.
This is an incredibly tragic story, and I don't have much to add to it other than when I read it for the first time, it seemed far enough out there that I was 85% sure it was entirely fictional, plus it enabled me to half-swear on the internet. I'm a trailblazer of inappropriateness. Today when I woke up and still had it on my mind, it was automatically elevated into the "worth mentioning category" so here it is. Suffice it to say, I do not believe this to be the solution to your problems.
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Craziest F#?king Thing I've Ever Heard - Barreleye Fish | ||||
| ||||
Sometimes, crazy things strike you as hilarious, other times crazy things sort of stop you in your tracks, and there are those rare times when a story just seems too crazy to be true. Here is one such story The Detroit News pointed me to. In a small western Pennsylvania town of about 1,700 people called Ligonier, two brothers were forced to close down their auto dealership under the weight of the recession and declining automobile sales - something with which we are all too familiar. This could have been one of those stories where it is a melancholy reflection on the decline of the automobile industry and the impact on people in large towns, small towns, and employed by major corporations. Instead, it is a like a bizarro-world version of Where the Red Fern Grows where the boy kills his first dog, then the second dog killed the boy for killing the first dog, and then the second dog sets itself on fire, running through the corn fields setting them ablaze and destroying them before passing, and a whole field of red ferns grows over the disaster setting.
The older brother, Gregory, went out to his dealership in the middle of the night, set fire to several of the cars, and then had a heart attack as the burning continued. I don't know how one self-induces a heart attack, but assuming the attack came about in the natural way, this is a crazy coincidence and the model example for future generations for going down with the ship. The younger brother, Randolph, was found in his car, thought to have committed suicide that very same weekend.
This is an incredibly tragic story, and I don't have much to add to it other than when I read it for the first time, it seemed far enough out there that I was 85% sure it was entirely fictional, plus it enabled me to half-swear on the internet. I'm a trailblazer of inappropriateness. Today when I woke up and still had it on my mind, it was automatically elevated into the "worth mentioning category" so here it is. Suffice it to say, I do not believe this to be the solution to your problems.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Enterprising Youth
Except for the fact that they don't approve of you or 95% of the things that you enjoy, they say that western Michigan houses the key to our future - unique companies in industries that have more growth potential than some of our more traditional industries. I'm sometimes skeptical regarding the promise of western Michigan, that is until I read things like this.
A 23-year-old from KZoo figured out how to scam Apple into shipping him about 9,000 iPod shuffles, and then he turned around and sold those shuffles for less than retail. He would give Apple a prepaid Visa number that would be rejected as soon as Apple eventually tried to cash in on the inventory they had just sent him, and then, for some reason, they would just let the situation slide - over and over again.
Unfortunately for this young man but fortunately for justice, this guy has been charged with fraud and money laundering. This is another one of those times where you have to be impressed by his enterprising spirit, and a little bit bummed that someone who clearly has some business ability and intelligence opted down the less-than-legal path. I don't know what's in the water in Michigan's west, but apparently it allows you to guess serial numbers for products so that you can make undue profit from those guesses. Naturally, a few questions have to come up from this story - how long did he actually think this ride would last, what the heck took a "smart" company like Apple so long to figure out the scheme, and at what point does someone take a look at himself in the mirror, furrow his brow, and decide "evil genius"? We will likely never know the answer to this and many of life's other questions, but we do know that it takes a stupid cartoon owl three licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
A 23-year-old from KZoo figured out how to scam Apple into shipping him about 9,000 iPod shuffles, and then he turned around and sold those shuffles for less than retail. He would give Apple a prepaid Visa number that would be rejected as soon as Apple eventually tried to cash in on the inventory they had just sent him, and then, for some reason, they would just let the situation slide - over and over again.
Unfortunately for this young man but fortunately for justice, this guy has been charged with fraud and money laundering. This is another one of those times where you have to be impressed by his enterprising spirit, and a little bit bummed that someone who clearly has some business ability and intelligence opted down the less-than-legal path. I don't know what's in the water in Michigan's west, but apparently it allows you to guess serial numbers for products so that you can make undue profit from those guesses. Naturally, a few questions have to come up from this story - how long did he actually think this ride would last, what the heck took a "smart" company like Apple so long to figure out the scheme, and at what point does someone take a look at himself in the mirror, furrow his brow, and decide "evil genius"? We will likely never know the answer to this and many of life's other questions, but we do know that it takes a stupid cartoon owl three licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
Monday, March 23, 2009
The Finale and My Verdict
It was hard to focus my mind on too much over the past 7 days. First, I spent a few days thinking about the Battlestar Galactica series finale on Friday night, then I spent two days avoiding any information about the show and thinking about eventually watching it, then I used two hours to actually watch the episode, and finally, a few more hours to reflect on the results and think about how much I'll miss the show. Man, I am going to miss this show.Late last night, Steve and I cobbled together enough time to watch the series finale, and I don't think I could possibly have been more satisfied by the show - the miniseries, its 4 running years, the webisodes, the made-for-TV movie, and the wrap up of the whole story. Much like Arrested Development, I hope that many people of the world accidentally stumble on a rerun in a year late one night, get sucked into the BSG world, and then spend the next 5 years telling me about this great show that you're watching and then quoting back lines or plot elements to me. I like the show so much, I won't even mind.
Without giving anything away to those who may one day enjoy the show, suffice it to say that the show makes me reflect upon my life and simply enjoy my journey more. Allow me to rip off a quote from James Poniewozik, Time Magazine's television critic.
That, to me, more than any part of the ending, is pure BSG, a distillation of why I love this series. What finally makes your destiny is not prophecy, not gods, not a certain set of coordinates and constellations. What tells you you have reached the place where you should be is that you journeyed there. You fought and grieved and loved, did the right thing as much as you could, did the wrong thing more often than you care to remember, and did the necessary thing as often as it took. You spent nearly every ounce of life and will and got somewhere with as many people you loved as you could bring along with you. You have expended yourself and provided for the next generation and are getting ready to die, and you are in your last place.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
What's my Liability?
Yesterday, local news sources reported that a live jazz supper club just inside the border of Detroit called Baker's may need to close down within the next few months in the event that they do not see a surge in business during these months. That is sad news, but not exactly out of place in this day and age. Baker's has been in regular operation since 1934 and has attracted some pretty big jazz names through the years to perform there. I often carry quite a bit of guilt with me, so what I've been wondering about is might there have been anything I could have done, in my own insignificant way over the past years to prevent this piece this unfortunate likelihood.Baker's Lounge is located on Livernois Avenue, just a tiny bit south of 8 Mile Road, so it's barely even inside the city of Detroit. It's actually in quite a nice neighborhood with some surprising large and well-kept houses. Know how I know? Because I probably passed by Baker's Lounge about 1,440 times on my way to and from my high school, the University of Detroit High School and Academy. Over the course of those years, I never stopped into Baker's once, largely because I was not aware it was a famous jazz club.
Several months ago, I read a review in The Metro Times for the food at Baker's because they had updated their menu to a southern home cooking type of vibe and MT seemed to enjoy the food, especially when added to the jazz experience. On top of all this, I really like jazz music (as long as it isn't the incredibly unstructured and the aurally maddening type of jazz). After reading that review, I was convinced that I would find myself at the club sooner rather than later, and yet I still have not made the time for the trip. Clearly, something is wrong with me. I love food, I love jazz, and I love Detroit, so why have I never taken the time?
This is one of those issues we encounter from time-to-time when we are upset by something, but we don't do any of the things we could to prevent that thing. Am I even allowed to be saddened by its potential closing because I have never done anything to prevent it? Most importantly, would my patronage be far too late and in no way help the club or its owners? It's a disappointing situation, but I find myself even more disappointed that I have done nothing, big or small, to keep it from happening.
Michigan has lots 'o' problems, but one of them is that we (and absolutely I am included) spend too much time being bothered by things. Some of that energy would be far better used working on solutions. I don't know if Baker's is going to make it, but hopefully you and I can give it the probable last hurrah it assuredly deserves. So, who's going to solve this problem for me?
Come on CBS
Are you kidding me, CBS? I've waited 10+ years to watch Michigan play in the NCAA tournament, and now that they've finally made it after a very weird season and uncertain selection Sunday, you can't work out your HD television feed? I will have someone's head, and that person's name is CBS. I will never forgive you for this, and when I turn over 50 and I am finally in your desired demographic, I will refuse to watch CSI: St. Louis or The Ghost Whisperer's Daughter.
Update: You appear to have fixed your feed, but I still won't watch The Ghost Whisperer's Daughter. Maybe CSI: St. Louis
Much Later Update: Go Blue! Upon further reflection, I might consider giving The Ghost Whisperer's Daughter a shot in 24 years. I can't dismiss it out of hand just because it's a story about a girl who whispers to ghosts and I had zero interest in her mom. You need to have an open mind.
Update: You appear to have fixed your feed, but I still won't watch The Ghost Whisperer's Daughter. Maybe CSI: St. Louis
Much Later Update: Go Blue! Upon further reflection, I might consider giving The Ghost Whisperer's Daughter a shot in 24 years. I can't dismiss it out of hand just because it's a story about a girl who whispers to ghosts and I had zero interest in her mom. You need to have an open mind.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Bargains and Bargains
Now that St. Patrick's Day is done, I can safely say with 100% certainty that I did not see my favorite commercial on all of television this season - and I am incredibly disappointed. I wait all year long to see this one commercial and if it doesn't come, it's like a kid on Christmas who has been waiting to see his favorite Christmas commercial and it never comes on because Santa is dead. Yup, a tragedy and exactly like that. You know the commercial, and it goes a little something like this.
We've got......
Bargains and bargains and bargains and bargains
And bargains and bargains and bargains and bargains
And bargains and bargains and bargains and bargains
And bargains and bargains and bargains galore.
It's for ABC Warehouse, and it's not just a store. I'm never sure what ABC Warehouse's deal is. I don't think it's a local company, but from the quality of their Gordy commercials, I wouldn't be terribly surprised to find out that ABC Warehouse is run out of my next door neighbor's basement and the commercials are taped in their backyard. Either way, St. Patrick's day will never be the same until this commercial makes its triumphant return to the television plasma tube filled with LCDs. There are certain things that make a holiday special and worth remembering, and I will remember this St. Patrick's for all the wrong reasons, mostly because the commercial Santa is dead.
We've got......
Bargains and bargains and bargains and bargains
And bargains and bargains and bargains and bargains
And bargains and bargains and bargains and bargains
And bargains and bargains and bargains galore.
It's for ABC Warehouse, and it's not just a store. I'm never sure what ABC Warehouse's deal is. I don't think it's a local company, but from the quality of their Gordy commercials, I wouldn't be terribly surprised to find out that ABC Warehouse is run out of my next door neighbor's basement and the commercials are taped in their backyard. Either way, St. Patrick's day will never be the same until this commercial makes its triumphant return to the television plasma tube filled with LCDs. There are certain things that make a holiday special and worth remembering, and I will remember this St. Patrick's for all the wrong reasons, mostly because the commercial Santa is dead.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Quit Your Belly-Aching, Melon Head
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! ‘tis a holiday I never have and never will fully understand, but celebrate to your heart’s content.
I’ve been trying to figure out my own reaction to the recent news that AIG planned on paying out $146M in bonuses to executives because “contractual obligations.” It seems like people of all persuasions are outraged by this disregard for taxpayer money. The news sources in Michigan - TV, radio, internet, and print - have certainly been quick to point out the double standard between the forced disregard of the “contractual obligations” to the UAW and the odd insistence on adherence to contracts in the case of AIG. Most of the articles I’ve read can present the case better than me, so here’s one such article from Daniel Howes of The Detroit News. I, too, think this whole situation is a little bit stinky, but that is not what I want to write about right now. No, rather I’d like to suggest that the state of Michigan appoint one or two individuals to the chief executive of the office Double Standards, Unfairness, and Complaining. I don’t suggest this because I think Michigan needs to do more complaining about unfairness and double standards, but we need to focus and coordinate efforts so as not to appear a state of raging crybabies.
Most people outside of the state are already angered by knowledge of these new AIG bonuses, and we can only make ourselves look worse by complaining over and over again that it is unfair. On top of that, we don’t need to continue to draw attention to our situation that other people already feel is a little bit nuts and undeserved. Even away from those who are close to the situation here, people are acutely aware of the different standards to which the automotive and financial industries are held. This is an opportunity for sympathy and understanding without having to directly remind the world that we think we deserve sympathy and understanding.
My loyalties are obvious and will always be that way, but I just don’t think the right approach right now is to stand up and yell “UNFAIR!” – especially if there is already agreement on that subject.
I’ve been trying to figure out my own reaction to the recent news that AIG planned on paying out $146M in bonuses to executives because “contractual obligations.” It seems like people of all persuasions are outraged by this disregard for taxpayer money. The news sources in Michigan - TV, radio, internet, and print - have certainly been quick to point out the double standard between the forced disregard of the “contractual obligations” to the UAW and the odd insistence on adherence to contracts in the case of AIG. Most of the articles I’ve read can present the case better than me, so here’s one such article from Daniel Howes of The Detroit News. I, too, think this whole situation is a little bit stinky, but that is not what I want to write about right now. No, rather I’d like to suggest that the state of Michigan appoint one or two individuals to the chief executive of the office Double Standards, Unfairness, and Complaining. I don’t suggest this because I think Michigan needs to do more complaining about unfairness and double standards, but we need to focus and coordinate efforts so as not to appear a state of raging crybabies.
Most people outside of the state are already angered by knowledge of these new AIG bonuses, and we can only make ourselves look worse by complaining over and over again that it is unfair. On top of that, we don’t need to continue to draw attention to our situation that other people already feel is a little bit nuts and undeserved. Even away from those who are close to the situation here, people are acutely aware of the different standards to which the automotive and financial industries are held. This is an opportunity for sympathy and understanding without having to directly remind the world that we think we deserve sympathy and understanding.
My loyalties are obvious and will always be that way, but I just don’t think the right approach right now is to stand up and yell “UNFAIR!” – especially if there is already agreement on that subject.
Friday, March 13, 2009
BurgerFest-O-Rama #6 - Town Tavern
So the journey continues, but I really need to pick up my game. If not for any other reason, it is increasingly difficult to remember the highs and the lows of the burger experience as the time from my enjoyment of the experience increases. I guess if I forget stuff, I can just make things up because you'll never know - which is why today I'll be writing about the world's first self-levitating restaurant that also cures cancer in downtown Royal Oak, Town Tavern. A few weeks ago on a Friday much like today, my brother and I headed to downtown Royal Oak for lunch together. Unfortunately, this will also be my first review that doesn't include firsthand pictures of the establishment and food. I took the digital camera, but unfortunately the batteries were as dead as batteries can be. How is it possible that camera batteries are so consistently out of commission? That was a frustrating start to the burger lunch, but I will make it back there and take a few personal pictures to add to the website and my archives. Here is a boring stock photo of the outside sign, as well as a picture of what it would look like if it had been taken with my brilliant sense of photography. I did live with a photography student two years while in college, you know.
The Town Tavern is part of a small family of successful and very well-liked restaurants in the northern suburbs, including the Beverly Hills Grill and Streetside Seafood. The management team has identified a method of making their menus seem both somewhat classy and within financial reach for a night out. They don't produce the once-a-year or the once-a-week kinds of restaurants, but maybe more like the once every few months. They feel like upscale but accessible establishments and attract a slightly wealthier clientele. Another not very useful and far too thin picture of the interior:
Those frames you see on the wall in this very thin picture are mostly filled with old-school Michigan and Royal Oak photographs. I like that quite a bit, and you will always win bonus points with me by reminding me of my Michigan heritage. The service is typically attentive and crisp, and they normally serve complimentary bread to the tables. For some reason Steve and I were not given complimentary bread, which made me sad because it tastes like exceptional crazy bread. Sometimes restaurants have rules regarding what necessitates free bread (like a particular type of entree being ordered), but these rules, if they exist, were unclear and thus frustrating. I was in the mood for some crazy bread.
For the burger on the lunch menu, it quite simply stated "Tavern Cheeseburger* Bleu, Cheddar, Jack or Swiss", at a cost of 10 units. They don't include the type of unit on the menu, so when I tried to pay them in Legos, they were super pissed. Steve and I both ordered our burgers medium, not exactly knowing if fries were included or what types of condiments or toppings came on the burger aside from the cheese. The burgers came out a little slow, but when they came out, we were starving and ready to dig in. Here's a picture of Steve waiting for lunch. Hungry!!!
When the burgers arrived, they were almost completely disassembled to display the pretty and fresh lettuce and tomato. I typically prefer to have my food pre-assembled, so when I pulled my burger open to add the toppings and some condiments, I was confronted with the weird situation that the cheese was 100% stuck to the top bun. I'm not sure how this happened, but I find I greatly prefer the cheese sticking to the meat. There is some mystical chemical reaction that takes place when the cheese is attached to the meat that makes them both taste better, so the cheese sticking to the wrong component was not preferred. Some quick hits -
Pros: Half pound of meat, very fresh seeming condiments, running-down-the-hand-juicy, fries included in total price, very good fries, we both felt very filled after finishing our lunches, pleasant ambiance making you feel like you have money even if you don't, Michigan paraphernalia always a plus, food looked picturesque (see above photo)
Cons: 10 units is very expensive for a burger and the dinner burger is 11 units, tomato was cut very think and overpowered the rest of the burger, cheese stuck in wrong place weirdness, while fries were good, they were relatively sparse on the plate, inexplicably no crazy bread included, having to assemble the burger myself led to very messy and non-cohesive dining experience (I think I went to knife and fork at some point which is close to a sin)
We enjoyed the Town Tavern experience and I feel great warmth for any restaurant group that has tentacles around Michigan and constantly works to raise the quality of eating options in the area. However, at 10 units for lunch, I have had (only when including BurgerFest-O-Rama) better and far less expensive options. I've had other foodstuffs from the Town Tavern that I thought were worth every penny, but if you know you're in the mood for a burger, I would probably recommend you consider another option.
Is it ironic that I grew up Catholic and posted about burgers on a Friday during lent? As your mostly true fact of the day, this "no meat on Fridays" thing was invented to prop up the fishing industry in the land of Jesus. Go forth and eat meat.
The Town Tavern is part of a small family of successful and very well-liked restaurants in the northern suburbs, including the Beverly Hills Grill and Streetside Seafood. The management team has identified a method of making their menus seem both somewhat classy and within financial reach for a night out. They don't produce the once-a-year or the once-a-week kinds of restaurants, but maybe more like the once every few months. They feel like upscale but accessible establishments and attract a slightly wealthier clientele. Another not very useful and far too thin picture of the interior:
Those frames you see on the wall in this very thin picture are mostly filled with old-school Michigan and Royal Oak photographs. I like that quite a bit, and you will always win bonus points with me by reminding me of my Michigan heritage. The service is typically attentive and crisp, and they normally serve complimentary bread to the tables. For some reason Steve and I were not given complimentary bread, which made me sad because it tastes like exceptional crazy bread. Sometimes restaurants have rules regarding what necessitates free bread (like a particular type of entree being ordered), but these rules, if they exist, were unclear and thus frustrating. I was in the mood for some crazy bread.For the burger on the lunch menu, it quite simply stated "Tavern Cheeseburger* Bleu, Cheddar, Jack or Swiss", at a cost of 10 units. They don't include the type of unit on the menu, so when I tried to pay them in Legos, they were super pissed. Steve and I both ordered our burgers medium, not exactly knowing if fries were included or what types of condiments or toppings came on the burger aside from the cheese. The burgers came out a little slow, but when they came out, we were starving and ready to dig in. Here's a picture of Steve waiting for lunch. Hungry!!!
When the burgers arrived, they were almost completely disassembled to display the pretty and fresh lettuce and tomato. I typically prefer to have my food pre-assembled, so when I pulled my burger open to add the toppings and some condiments, I was confronted with the weird situation that the cheese was 100% stuck to the top bun. I'm not sure how this happened, but I find I greatly prefer the cheese sticking to the meat. There is some mystical chemical reaction that takes place when the cheese is attached to the meat that makes them both taste better, so the cheese sticking to the wrong component was not preferred. Some quick hits -Pros: Half pound of meat, very fresh seeming condiments, running-down-the-hand-juicy, fries included in total price, very good fries, we both felt very filled after finishing our lunches, pleasant ambiance making you feel like you have money even if you don't, Michigan paraphernalia always a plus, food looked picturesque (see above photo)
Cons: 10 units is very expensive for a burger and the dinner burger is 11 units, tomato was cut very think and overpowered the rest of the burger, cheese stuck in wrong place weirdness, while fries were good, they were relatively sparse on the plate, inexplicably no crazy bread included, having to assemble the burger myself led to very messy and non-cohesive dining experience (I think I went to knife and fork at some point which is close to a sin)
We enjoyed the Town Tavern experience and I feel great warmth for any restaurant group that has tentacles around Michigan and constantly works to raise the quality of eating options in the area. However, at 10 units for lunch, I have had (only when including BurgerFest-O-Rama) better and far less expensive options. I've had other foodstuffs from the Town Tavern that I thought were worth every penny, but if you know you're in the mood for a burger, I would probably recommend you consider another option.
Is it ironic that I grew up Catholic and posted about burgers on a Friday during lent? As your mostly true fact of the day, this "no meat on Fridays" thing was invented to prop up the fishing industry in the land of Jesus. Go forth and eat meat.
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