My GIF game is off a bit so the blow torch pic is just that, a still photo rather than the burn out blow out GIF I made it to be.
Bundle up everybody. But enjoy it. Embrace it. Let the chill help you heat up on the inside and exude happiness to all the frigid freakiness this winter will have to offer. It won’t be long until moderate temperatures pervade the Lower Peninsula.
That sound you hear is someone yelling at their headphones to play the next track or “TURN THE VOLUME DOWN!”
Apple News editors drunk with vainglory. The likelihood that these 2 could spawn together with or without beer is a tad hard to believe.
If this is the father/son celebration of the new daddy and granddaddy, well, cheers. Umbilical cord in a tequila bottle would’ve been my choice.
A little luck, vinegar & baking soda, and some solid advice from Mark at Albe’s made for a worthy transformation breathing new life into this 1985 GT World Tour.
This was a childhood dream bike. Blessed to be cruising on it even this late in the game!
“What’s your WIFI password?” asked a cousin at this weekend’s family gathering, a birthday celebration for our grandmother. 94 years. Her birth pre-dates the technological revolution. What did she stare at when she was growing up? Where was her attention directed? What did she do with her thumbs?
At 5 years of age my grandmother threw her own birthday party. Much to the surprise of her parents as neighborhood friends showed up on the doorstep with presents. She initiated interaction not only with the neighborhood kids but her parents. My great-grandfather, the butcher, got a call from my great-grandmother with the grocery order. He collected and loaded it on the next bus, which had a convenient stop at the corner of their block.
Door Dash, GrubHub, ordering online via a grocery app – those were preceded by an emergency birthday phone call and only a bus ride away. No WIFI needed. Party went off without a hitch.
My grandma knows how to be the center of attention. Her requests, her stories, her commentary sparked my mother and aunts and uncles and cousins to start telling life as we know it stories from their POV.
Lively roundtable discussions of days past, interspersed with what’s next in the family lives of youth and elder alike as we await the 9th great-grandchild. Even the TV got turned off because of a bad cable connection. Thankfully we didn’t stare blankly at each other through the void that some video screen is always filling.
No password needed this past weekend because our WIFI – Was Initiating Family Interaction. And we are all better for it. The time spent, the food consumed, catching up, remembering others. We Initiated Family Interaction by foregoing the password.
Pass it on. Word!
“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.
I have a number of folks in my life whose circle is getting smaller as friends and family fall into an eternal good night. Some are handling the journey with grace. Losing loved ones, spouses, friends is tough as it is a not-so-gentle reminder that no one gets out of life alive.
My spirit needs renewing on a daily basis to remember that fact. 'Get up and get after it' is not always in the morning melody of the alarm clock dawning a new day.
I dig that Washington (the state - as being buried in D.C. news may be the death of us all) has gotten into the grind of composting! How has it taken this long to get direct on the dust to dust part of the show?
If our society is gonna go green - go all the way. Which may have the state of Michigan divided but - yellow and blue make green so...don't @ me. This is the perfect process to keep myself in the flow of life long after my walking and talking days have dissolved.
My mother wants to eskimo her way out of life, setting herself adrift on the ice flow, peacefully floating into everlasting sleep.
This is a woman who wouldn't let me walk out of the house without warning me, "make sure you have your jacket!"
I love her. To death.
got a repost going because my 2Q taxes will be due shortly and the Summer movie season begins. since it is #TBT I want to throw it back to principled accounting and assassinations...
I watched The Accountant last night for a second time. Truly an entertaining, interesting story that was well written, acted, directed. The only blip for me -Raymond King’s shoes.
King was a good dad, it was the one thing he got right. Probably had great insurance coverage, but when he put his feet up to reminisce about what got him to his position there was no soul on his soles. Not even backyard fodder much less the wear of work. This was a missed opportunity to further differentiate between the detail-oriented finisher and the one who has been given everything as a gift.
Intelligence Superheroes are desperately needed in the good ol’ US of A at the moment, or they are due their due, rather. I enjoy and am grateful for the freedom to finish my popcorn & thus offer up the following fellowship-seeking-sequel-thriller that should be in the works.
Jason Bourne (JB) vs. The Accountant (TA)
Do they team up or hunt one another down? Maybe they have a similar origin story as military kids? Yeah, they beat each other up as kids. OOOH wait - same dad, different mother! I am hunting for some goodwill…
So possible plot, story, thoughts;
JB, unable to forgive his past pain, is now addicted to oxycontin-codone-oin-entanyl supplied by one of TA’s cartel clients. To break his addiction he busts into beast mode removing the cartel underlings to find the source of the supply.
Meanwhile TA is hired by a rogue, do-gooder Senator to track down the Black Ops money being wasted by the Government. The Treasury Sect’y is involved somehow, maybe as a producer.
TA uncovers a BlackBriar-esque Paypal scheme, JB switches to ApplePay, there’s a shootout at Starbucks, Amazon drones get involved.
What’s my point? I don’t have one. I like popcorn-finish-worthy spy movies and this is how I avoid #Syria news and walls of coal and the fact we have a chemical weapon problem in the heartland of America.
I will assume the opioid factories will be the next tomahawk targets. Empathy, not aggression is a better road to recovery. Let’s get to work, account for our principles, so we can finally put our feet up.
Comedy Store trained, World-travelled, Cul-de-sac-living recovering comedian, husband and tinkerer of tools talking about time well spent!