I honestly do not know how to start this entry. Because, I as go through my mind looking back on all the immense random awesomeness that occurred, I get in the favorite Beatle song complex. Meaning, when I state a favorite Beatle song, I immediately in my mind say, "No, wait this one!" And then after I say that one, I get the same thought.
Actually, I lied. I do know how to start this entry. I will start it by saying that this entry will boldly cross over from the innocent witty blog, to a blog that contains some "choice" or "adult" language. Not because I want to, but because I have to. All because of Showtime Dan.
They day started with me waking up early. Not because I was all geeked up for my birthday, but because I was going to go to Detroit with my friend Craig. You may be saying that going to Detroit on a Saturday morning is no way to spend a birthday. You could not be any more wrong. And you clearly did not experience what Craig and I did.
I should introduce Craig, yeah that is a good idea. Craig is a smashing young fellow to say the least. He plays in a few bands, has amazing taste in music, and also has quite the vinyl collection. He is also a contributor to my alma mater's (Lakeview) newspaper, the Husky. He wanted to go to Detroit because he was doing a story on Glenn Beck's comments on Detroit, and he wanted to interview people from Detroit to get their take on his comments on their city.
There, now that we are all filled in we can truly start this journey.
A journey that began around 10:30 in the morning when Craig picked me up. He already had a few places in mind where he wanted to go and we both agreed to just go with the flow. And then we were of to a place aptly known as "The D."
We jetted down I-94 listening to a plethora of music, ranging from garage to mo-town and pretty much everything in between. And before you know it we got off on our exit and badda bing, badda boom we were cruising Woodward Avenue.
Now you may say two white boys cruising Woodward in the heart of Detroit is a bad idea. But, as Craig said best, "I mean how could you not like this? Just look at that skyline." And I did. We were miles away from the Renaissance Building, but it felt like if I stuck my arm out long enough from where I was in the car, I could touch it. Even as an avid supporter of Detroit, I found myself saying I loved this place and truly meaning it. Like the first time you realize you love your significant other. You do not realize it when they do a great act, it hits you when they do the most mundane thing. And staring at that skyline was that one mundane thing that made me say, "I love Detroit."
Our first stop was at Detroit One Coney Island (a.k.a first Wayne's World-esque Gratuitous Plug of a Detroit Establishment). Now, if you want a burger for dirt cheap, that tastes like you are eating heaven condensed into a sandwich, go to Detroit One Coney Island and get the Bacon Cheeseburger, and when I say go I do not mean tomorrow. I mean right this instant.
Then Craig and I started talking. He then remembered it was birthday and told me he was paying. I told him I would not hesitate to projectile him through the window we were sitting next to. And I told him, "I swear to god you will make the news for all the wrong reasons if you pay." He kept on playing the birthday card and I caved.
It was also around this time that we tried calling our friend Kelvin. Whom when reached on his cellular device sounded like Louis Armstrong gargling Listerine. He apparently had quite the Friday night. And needless to say, he did not join us.
Finally Craig got in interview mode. And then he knocked over his water accidentally and it spilled all over the floor. And the waitress came to clean it up. Craig looked at me and said, "What do I do? Should I still interview her?" To which I dickishly replied, "Well, already broke the ice literally." To which he just blankly looked at me and said, "Funny."
Like a true scholar he pressed on with the interview. It turned out the waitress did not know Glenn Beck or live in Detroit. And I glanced over and I saw that Craig had that look. And I knew exactly how he felt and what was going through his mind. As I had been in his position before. The position of participating in a failed interview. It is one of the worst feelings in the world as a journalist. On the outside you keep your cool, but on the inside you are just shouting, "Just give me one fricken quote, just one please, for the love of god."
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