Kim Kardashian's Wedding: A view from the back row - The wedding invitation or how the heck does this work?

Okay, the wedding is going to be on (can't say) in (can't say either). We won't actually know where the thing is in (can't tell) though. We are going go there, hang out and then they are going to tell us where to go to be picked up and we will be delivered to the wedding. I assume this will all be handled through some private security firm, like Blackwater. Can you say, "Drive by shooting."?

This is just the beginning of way too weird. The invitation arrived in a big FedEx box and when I shook it, it felt like a book was in there. Why am I shaking the package? Because I have no sense of occasion. My wife wants to take pictures of herself opening it. Of course, this means she must put on some clothes. Yes, she's getting dressed to open a wedding invitation whilst I take pictures of her while I'm wearing my worn out pajamas.

Wow! First time I've ever seen a wedding invitation that is not only suitable for framing but is framed.

Uh oh! It's black tie and I don't have a tux, more expense unless I can get away with my standard black suit. Hey, I know how to do weddings. Basically, I wear the same suit that I wear to funerals. I just wear a red tie for weddings. It's simple. I've done it a ton of times. Apparently, Uncle Mike is going to have to pick up his game.

Kim Kardashian's Wedding: A view from the back row - the background

Okay, I'm just a Black guy from Detroit but guess what? I'm going to Kim Kardashian's wedding. How,  you ask, can this occur. Is it because I write the only blog in the world with Ketosis Prone Type 2 Diabetes as its subject. She is part Armenian after all and they are people subject to this type of diabetes. Does Kim recognize herself in my blog and now, with the help of her impending wedding, wants to give it higher recognition so as to help the thousands of lives at stake?

Who knows this might be the case and I do have an invitation to the wedding even though J-Low doesn't. How'd I swing this? I didn't do one thing. Turns out that my nephew is Kris Humphries. So unless I catch a bit of luck, I'm off to participate in the wedding of the year.

Don't get me wrong, I like my nephew and I wish him well but I would wish him well no matter who he married. I really don't have anything against Kim3, (more about that title later). Her life, however, is used to generate commercial dollars. Virtually everything she does is about revenue. I've got nothing against making a buck but, at a certain point, you can include me out.

This is theatre, a sort of Lady Gaga extravaganza but with bridesmaids. The problem is I wouldn't pay to see it and that's really what this is mostly about. The American eyeball is worth money. The more eyeballs; the more cash you generate. This is celebrity sales and I haven't much found the need to buy any celebrity. For years, I've spent my time in many checkout lines gloating and feeling superior as I saw the mags trumpeting the personal life, real or imagined, of Bragilina, knowing I had no interests, whatsoever. Now, look at me, quickly flipping pages in the aisle trying to suck up the latest on K&K. How the mighty have fallen. Wait till I get my hands on that kid!

The Janus

Janus is the Roman god of transitions whose faces sit opposite each other looking in opposite directions. This is so appropriate for Detroit that Imagination Station should get right on this for another statue in the park.

Detroit was never like other major cities. It had sprawling tracts of houses. Most Detroiters grew up in houses, maybe they were two or four family flats but you didn't share your space with a lot of people like in NYC. The wealthy didn't live in the downtown, they lived further out. Everything nicer was, in fact, further out.The idea was  built into Detroit that as you moved further out on its spokes life got better and better, thus the Janus faces north.

This wasn't the case for all of us though. I grew up at Joy and Grand River. The streets were full of people and activities. Everything was in walking distance with familiar faces along the way. When the highway came through and my mother moved to Northwest Detroit, I saw what the Janus portended. I had to walk a half mile simply to get to a party store. Hardly anyone walked so faces were few on Seven mile. As soon as I graduated from high school I lit out for the Cass Corridor, where once again there were bodies on the street with the added attraction of a great set of bars.

From here, I eventually moved downtown where I worked at the Water Board. What I found was a village of all kinds of people who lived in and loved Downtown Detroit. Our world was encompassed by the Boulevards and Downtown Windsor. I shopped Hudson's pantry during the week and would stroll to Eastern Market on the weekend. I lived across from the Music Hall and would walk back to my apartment during intermissions and could hear the chimes ring so I could head back. Dinners with friends at the International in Greektown. Drinks at tiny bars dotted across the downtown and, because at that time a quarter could get you around on the buses between the Boulevards, the best mass transit anywhere. The best part was that this involved Detroiter's, who are people who speak their minds on nearly everything. You may guess from my tone that I loved it. My Janus definitely faced south.

I had to join the Detroit Diaspora when I got married and my wife could not find work. We moved to Illinois then to Lansing but I kept my eye always on Downtown Detroit. What I saw was horrific. It all collapsed as the relentless moving out continued. The Janus facing north sucked the city dry. My apartment was torn down and replaced by the Gem Theatre, a former porn theatre, The rest of the neighborhood was wiped out by stadiums and the people mover wandered about in endless nearly useless circles. Everything was about the north. The commercial infrastructure collapsed. Shopping was done beyond Eight Mile and Detroit lent its strength to the building of the suburbs.

Guess what? The Janus' eyes are slowly opening to the south. There are people here who view Detroit as an escape from the suburban environment. They have resources that they are bringing to the city and with the completion of the Woodward rail to midtown, all the action will be between the Boulevards and that strange wandering creature, "The People Mover", will be just that. It will make all the Downtown a space where people can live but be intimately connected to Wayne or the cultural institutions. In a few years, the area between Alexandria and the Vernor Highway will be a major shopping area and it will be possible to do - without a car. This will be the attractive place in metro Detroit and people will start pushing south. I plan to be here when all this occurs.

Robocop

Bravo! Brava! It's been a long long time since I saw something hopefull in Detroit. My previous writings about Detroit have been about the need for, mostly Black Detroiters, to behave in ways that would bring the city back but I'm back in the city now and can see that the days of Black Detroit are gone. Good bye to bad stewardship.

I heard someone ask, "Shouldn't this statue be of someone relevant to Detroit or Black people?" It actually is. It marks an end to the importance of Black leadership and ideas as prime movers in Detroit. It will stand in stark contrast to years of ineffectual leadership that found no way to get things done.

Imagination Station did in days, what would have taken years to do before in Detroit. They could do it because they recognized, as other people are coming to recognize, that the city is a wide open place. Everything has a chance to flourish here, if you will just think of it. Essentially Black people plowed this city under and left the place laying fallow as they moved relentlessly towards the suburbs.

The ground is prepared and with "Robocop" and the Marche de Nain the first seeds have been sown. Look out world. You don't know it yet but the most interesting American city in recent history is being created.

Detroit Churches should hit Eight Mile

Years ago, Coleman wanted all the criminals to hit "Eight Mile". I would suggest that this is exactly what Detroit churches should do.
They take up taxable land and, for the most part, add little to nothing to the neighborhoods they are in. Detroiter's hop in their cars to go every where so it ain't no big deal to drive to church in the suburbs. Put the weight of nonproductive assets where they don't burden the community.
Now, if churches really want to pull their weight they should combine together and tithe to the city by creating a type of bank that can be used to finance development. Skip the chandeliers, new organs and new wings and instead commit to putting 10% of their money into a Detroit Development Fund, which, will have a real fund manager, whose job isn't to make money but to preserve the capital and keep the thing going.
This falls on the churches because they are the chief repositories of money in the community and Detroit's problem is that money does not move in the city but out.
Of course, if the churches don't want to do this then they can just "hit Eight Mile".

MORATORIUM!!!

The first thing, the very first thing to do is to call an economic Moratorium. This moratorium consists in Detroiters not spending their money beyond its boundaries.

One consistent measure of the economic health of any community is its multiplier. It is the measure of how many times a dollar turns over in a given community: the higher the multiplier, the healthier the community. The more use a community extracts from its dollars, the more they are able to take care of the needs of that community.

The multiplier for Detroit is a negative. This means that the community is essentially bleeding to death. Detroiters don’t seem to recognize that every dime that they spend outside their community must be replaced by them through taxation. As any conservative republican can tell you, excess taxation is a drag on any economy.

I once took a friend from Washington DC to Lasalle Gardens and drove her around in the neighborhood. I stopped the car before we headed out to the mainstreet  and asked her to tell me what that street must look like, given the appearance of Lasalle Gardens. She thought there would be little upscale shops, restaurants and cafes. I then drove out onto Dexter and watched the shoc k on her face.

All the cars in that neighborhood were used to drive miles away for any type of commerce. The money was taken out of the city and deposited in the suburbs. This allowed the suburbs to have the very things that Dexter should have.

Some might say this is the usual race and class war scenario. It isn’t. This represents a basic economic reality. Those money’s spent outside of municipal boundaries do not directly support that municipality. A certain amount is returned through state tax policy but only a very small fraction. Full time shopping outside your municipal boundaries is economic suicide for any community unless they are rich to begin with.

If Detroit had leadership worth a damn, there would be some one standing there explaining to Detroiters what they have to do. It would be tough going for the first few years because Detroit has lost so much in terms of commercial infrastructure but it would force this infrastructure to be built in Detroit. Detroiters would be hired for these jobs and their taxes would bolster the city. The new stores would now be taxpayers in the city. The bleeding would stop and growth would begin.

Any idea that tries to address the future of the city of Detroit, without first addressing this key economic issue, is a load of crap. There must be a moratorium. There must be an understanding by Detroit’s citizens that their fate is in their own hands and that they must step up to the plate .