This past weekend I went to Michigan for my Grandpa's funeral. It was weird and really Jewish and made me glad that neither The Mister nor I are religious. Religious death rituals are so fucking bizarre--lots of talking about god and saying things in unison and standing and sitting. Blech. I wasn't really close with my Grandpa, so really the hardest thing about the experience for me was watching my parents have to deal with their grief/crazy family members. Apparently we have a family plot in a large Jewish cemetery, which was cool to visit. I'd never seen my (uncommon) last name written on so many surfaces--so that was actually kind of exciting--and I enjoyed the little family history lesson via the gravestones.
Most of my relatives on that side of the family lived a really long time (according to dates in the cemetery), so I guess that's good. Although, really, I don't want to die of old age. I want to go out in some fabulous and painless way, like being eaten by a magical walrus whose magical breath puts me to sleep first, magically, and then my eulogy is magically sung by magical kelp fairies. Or something.
The best part of the trip by far (you know, other than getting stared at for laughing hysterically with my sister at the shiva service [for non-funeral-related reasons]) was getting to visit with some old friends from my one year of high school in West Bloomfield. They took us on a driving tour around downtown Detroit, and it was so fucking amazing and beautiful and tragic. I wish that I had a good camera with me (or any camera, for that matter), because there would have been some really incredible shots. That's okay; I'll make sure to get back there someday with some sort of documentation device.
Detroit is full of so much gorgeous architecture. I have never seen so many beautiful, abandoned buildings in such a large concentration. They reminded me of
Miss Havisham (give it up for Dickens, woot woot)*--old and grand and dilapidated; you can see that they were once so incredibly regal, but now they're sad and old, still wearing their tatty fur coats and tarnished jewels and too much rouge...Kind of like how I imagine I'll be in my dotage. Except replace the rouge with rosacea. And also I probably won't be wearing any pants.
There are also some really awesome neighborhoods which have been beautifully maintained...but then one or two
streets away you're back to burned-out shells and graffitied walls. (Not to say that there's not some cool graffiti scattered around; on one abandoned building someone had written simply "
Charles and Ray Eames.") It's so weird and lovely. I kept fantasizing about being rich and buying up a bunch of the buildings and turning them into something awesome. Just call me "Gentrification Jenny." Or "Gentrification Genitals McGee," maybe, because that's funnier. But, actually, my name doesn't start with the same sound as "gentrification," so maybe you should just stop trying to make me sound like some sort of gentrifying monster. Sheesh.
In other news, I totally think Detroit needs to become the seat of America's green technology development and manufacturing. They have the infrastructure, the workforce, and the need for industry. Also some most excellent potato soup, served up by
these guys.
Oh, another exciting thing I learned on my trip is that there is some contingency of unknown people in Michigan reading my blog--so thanks and hello and welcome! I promise not to make you uncomfortable by putting my hand too high up on your leg when we're sitting next to each other. You know, when we're sitting side by side, reading my blog on the internets? You know how we do that?
Finally, in parting, here are some links to photographs and information about the amazing urban landscape of Detroit:
See Detroit
*Except, actually, I totally hated Great Expectations. In 8th grade I rewrote it for an English class project, making Joe a transexual Avon salesperson, and generally adding much absurdity. My teacher did not appreciate it. I was always much more of an A Tale of Two Cities girl, mostly because I was a morbid child and kind of obsessed with the French Revolution and guillotines and whatnot. And now you know my stance on Dickens.
i hated great expectations, too. and to be honest, not a huge fan of detroit. but you've made a great pitch for it. have you considered the board of tourism?
Posted by: kristina | November 08, 2008 at 04:33 PM
that was the best part of your trip for me too.
Posted by: bree | November 10, 2008 at 05:14 PM