​“Get up that hill!” I yelled aloud yesterday on my evening run.  The hill was in my way. I put it there, having decided to take a right rather than the usual left. Staring up the slope as I approached the first thought was, “just walk it,” which is a worthy thought tackling this thing in the middle of my run. Would I have enough energy to finish strong and make it home if I kept my pace?
 
I yelled, “Get up that hill!” and picked up the pace. First thing to note is that there were other, unbeknownst, hills to follow. I repeated the mantra and picked up my pace at the bottom of each. We all face those hills on a daily basis. The ones we stare at and turn back from. The ones we meander up at odd angles. The ones we all out avoid with diligent research and the help of “yes men” who allow us to stew in the false sense that the journey is not worth the risks.
 
Get up that hill. Pick up your pace. Get to the top and move on to the next one. Whether it be while running, working, in a friendship, relationship or a project, a dream – the hills are alive with the sound of accomplishment every time you pick up the pace, get to the top and move on to the next one.
 
The hill was there because of me. My choices created that obstacle. That is the way I frame it because the only thing I am in charge of are my choices, how I act and react. A friend once said, “The only thing I have control of is, sometimes, my attitude.” Sometimes. My attitude when facing the hill of the day or the hour or the minute is all that matters. Positively pick up the pace or negatively kneel under its shadow.
 
Take action today. Small or large the feeling of accomplishment afterward is all downhill-smiling-wind-in-your-face from there…until the next hill.

​In our pajamas by 930p sums up the suburban super-couple.
 
An action packed eve started for my lady and I at the opening of the TH Muller Galleri. T H to the M creates very cool and engaging works defining his look at Love, Friendship, Religion, Politics and Detroit. A gracious host put together an opening night that featured some amazing food and music that set a fantastic tone for the talented artist/designer.
 
Next door, or across the hallway, or more literally like right there is the Detroit Denim Co. A grateful alert to my failed attempt at dressing “cool” was the head of production and operations; Brenna Lane – who can sew a smile on anyone, coming up to me in their shop and casually offering, “I don’t mean to be rude but I can fix your jacket.”
 
My bargain-basement-big-buttoned corduroy jacket, which I have been donning as dope, has some gaping holes from torn stitching. I was acting as if my Adidas clamshells would help draw attention to my ‘fashion-forward’ factor as opposed to my ‘why wouldn’t you sew that up dummy’ factor. In my attempt to explain that this was intended we quickly found a cure for my fashion faux pas. The jacket will be the first project I bring to a future “stitch and bitch” at the DDC.
 
Experiencing firsthand the people power in Detroit is awesome. To those who visited this site when it was all about the bags know that I have thread for blood. I excitedly accepted a backstage tour. We checked out all of the sewing machines that have been brought back to life and are in the mix of being mended to fuse the Detroit Denim Co.’s brand to our buns. Their purposeful culture and crew charisma is a perfect fit to the success of the city.
 
Before I can get fitted for some selvedge slacks I am going to have to walk off The New Style sandwich I scarfed down at Slows To Go. The carry out on Cass crushes BBQ and the fountain Ginger Ale to wash it down…Detroit Deliciousness! Waffle fries, mac & cheese on the side added to the 930p call to slumber. A grateful date night with my joy, taking in but a taste of what downtown offers up.
 
Wear it, Watch it, Wash it down DTROYT style.