NPM: Detroit

Despite a short stint up in the Wolverine backwoods, I've spent over 75% of my life living one block from the city of Detroit. I grew up in a house across the street from my grandparents and I now live in my grandparents old home. Funny how life can work out sometimes.

Anyone paying attention to the News is well aware of the problems with Detroit. I love the city. I love how dirty, grimey, and unpolished it appears to outsiders. I love the view you get driving north on I-75 coming over the Rouge River Bridge and the city skyline appears with the RenCen glistening and the Ambassador bridge in the foreground and the smoke and haze of manufacturing surrounding the beauty. I'm pretty unapologetic of my love for all things Detroit (even Kid Rock and Eminem, but not so much Lions and City Council)

They say New York is the city that never sleeps, well Detroit is the city that never stops working.

That was until they starting bailing out Wall St.

I won't aplogize for this video, and it's as in your face as it needs to be.

“Pardon me if I don’t shed a tear...‘Cause they’re selling make-believe and we don’t buy that here.” - John Rich

Unfortunately, no one's listening.

Someday

....and Mike is now with him.



See you on the flip-side buddy.

In the basement.....

I'm Brian A. Maloney and I approve this message.



I'll be in the basement the next 24-36, maybe 48 hours (maybe over the whole weekend) pounding out another manifesto because I have a blog and feel it is important.

I'll be around sporadically offering comments (as always), but stay tuned for the post tomorrow (or maybe Saturday or even Monday) on Fearmongering.

I know, I know, your all on the edge of your seat waiting for it.

Trust me, it won't be much, I have a tendency to disappoint the more I talk something up, just ask Michele, I'm surprised we even have a kid.

Come on I had to say it!!!!!

So, the hammering, sawing, cussing, loud obnoxious noises you hear will be me in the basement trying to create something with my hands....

And keep commenting on all the blogs, just because I may not be there as much doesn't mean you can't continue bashing me and calling me uncompassionate and heartless and an idiot for being pro-Bible, pro-Church, pro-Bush, pro-Life, pro-Men, pro-My Wife, pro-beer, pro Conservative, pro-Libertarian, pro-Country Music pro-Do the Opposite and believing someone else's dogma over your dogma.



So.....

In the meantime, enjoy one of these oldie but goodies from back in the day (which was written almost a year to the day...and not sure I've changed any. Good? Bad?)

Paid for by the committee to tell you I'll be out of the blogosphere for a couple days but around enough to make some basic comments when I feel like and then proceed to piss you off, and rile you up, but by being out of the blogosphere for awhile I can avoid having to answer all your comments until such time that I can come up with real cool quips, comebacks, and logical thought to combat what you said.

The Mourning After

So what happens when our character in this great big meta-narrative story we are in ends? We've served our purpose, done what was required and the Director writes us off the story? The screen goes black, the music quits playing in the background, and we are gone. Anyone reading this doesn't really know the exacts. But we do know what happens when one of the characters we love is no longer here. We know what happens to us.

************************************************

What is the first thing you did when you heard the news that someone you loved died? Did the hand holding the phone stop cooperating? Did the phone fall to the floor? Or did you? Did you fall silent? Or start repeating one word over and over and over, such as, "No. No. No."? Or was it relief you felt, relief for a suffering that finally passed? Were your reactions nothing more than learned responses? Were these reactions simply the summing of chemicals and electrical pulses? If so, then why did it hurt so badly? Why do we mourn the way we do?

It's not as if we get a crash course in these things. And we never get one when everyone around us is in good health and accounted for. There isn't a childhood moment where our parents anxiously sit us down to give us "the talk" concerning proper protocol for when someone close to us departs this realm we are all adventuring through. Death does not discriminate between those who are prepared and those who are not. The fact is, if we chose to participate in human relationship, eventally all of us, every single one of us will find ourselves standing in a church, a funeral parlor or next to a big rectangle hole in the ground, stuttering and stammering for the right words to say. And yet somehow, in those situations, it seems we all fall in line with a certain set of activites and customs, whether we have experienced them previosuly or not.

It customarily plays out like this:

• News is received and we are stunned
• A furious bustle of activity including phone calls, emails, red-eye flights, and 4 hour drives at 1am.
• Decisions, decisions, decisions, as a complex and choreographed funeral is designed.
• Flowers, cards, gifts, donations come in.
• A viewing
• A funeral
• A burial
• A memorial
• Everyone congregates somewhere for food
• Family, friends, the church, the neighbors make extra casseroles for the departed's family to alleviate the preparation of food in the coming days.
• Everyone tracks the families grieving process.

And that grieving process is important to all of us. Depression, guilt, anger, hope, etc. All part of it.

But there is also a whole list of rituals and traditions that transpire during observance of a death. We all share a common yet unspoken knowledge of how to act. These acts are referred to as "mourning." Just name a few:

• Wearing black
• Speaking well of the departed
• We all pat the mourner on the back and exert sympathy and some form of, "i am so sorry, this is so awful. At least they are in a better place."

Why do we do this?

Fear and awe, both in the same.

At the edge of life, between the living and the dead, between the material and the immaterial, there is unavoidable awe. Perhaps all this absurdity of tradition points to the simple fact that death scares us. It has always scared us. It is beyond our finite understanding, and the crazier these customs appear, the more deeply that reality can be felt. No matter how tighly packed our doctrine, at the edge of a rectangular hole in the ground (regardless of how many flowers surround it) there are leaks. It is then, more than at any other moment, that we see clearly how dimly we see.

It is now not the souls of those departed that we worry about, but our own. It is at the grave that our wonder begins. It is there that we need to believe in something more, something bigger and grander than our hands can touch (or dissect) or that our eyes can see (with or without magnification). It is there that we need all our notions of heaven to be real. It is our souls that need the comfort.

We go through the motions and rituals not because it is expected of us but because we are scared of the possible finality of it all. We do all of this to remember.

To remember.

What was the last conversation you shared? Your last meal together? What words do you wish had exited your mouth? What would you say now if given the chance? What is your most loved memory? When was the moment you felt closest? What were the things they'd get excited about? What makes you think of them? What do you miss the most? Wouldn't you rather feel this sadness, bear this weight, and mourn their absence than never have been touched by them?

Upon death, we hold a wake to remind us of how precious a person's life was. We order tombstones as a monument of love. We speak well of the departed because there is no use in speaking ill of them. We wear black to show that under the surface, there is a left an immense cavern. We are sad becasue something has been lost.

It's all for Me

We all blog for one reason...Me. I blog for myself. You blog for yourself. I read your blog for me. "What kind of crazy ass shit is Gary going to write about this time?" We just determine how transparent we want to be in our blogging and our commenting with others. No one blogs for others. Sure we may ellicit advice, ask questions, and engage each other over a blog. But it's still because we felt it was important enough to "blog it."

It cracks me up that people believe there are rules and guideposts to blogging. Are there rules and guideposts to keep your own journal or diary? Why should there be to blogging? Actually there are rules to blogging. What you, the author of the blog, set up as the rules. Everyone blogs differently. Some bore us with everyday tidbits and munitia of their trivial lives. Others wow us with their creativity and immerse us in awesome stories and charcacters. Some of us piss each other off and rant and rave. And all of us are "real smart" and post what we believe and why we believe it. Our blogs become our very own dogma and propaganda machine. It's why I also crack up when people cry afoul about dogma, authority, and propaganda on their blogs. All they are doing is spreading their own version of it.

And you know what.....FAN-FREAKIN-TASTIC GREAT FOR YOU!!!! I am happy for you.

I do it to and I love it. I like upsetting people and taking them out of their comfort zones. I like reading the frustrating comments my posts ellicict. It is creating the purpose I want it to. Drop the gloves, drop the borders, drop the walls and be honest. You hate church? Well I think you are being a baby because of that. You disagree? Good, let's argue over it (the word "conversation" jumped the shark a week ago...time you catch up). You hate the fact that I like George W. Bush as my and your president? (see how I bolded "you" to piss you off, I did it on purpose knowing full well it would irk you). Congratulations on forming your own opinion. You are human, you have the right. It doesn't mean I think any less of you. It doesn't mean I am not going to stick up for my opinions sometimes. And I expect the same from you. Tell me on my blog. If you make a good point and piss me off, I'm going to say "Damn It Toby, you got me", good for you. If I piss you off good for me. Listen, it's ok to have your feelings hurt because we bring up good points and argue over these things. If I make a comment to every response, deal with it. The blog is called:

MY PERCEPTION

I called it that for a reason, any guesses to what it means?

Also,

Get over the fact I don't blog everyday. I am not a "bore you with my trivial life" kind of guy.

I have a job that takes roughly 10 hours of my day bewteen normal work hours, commuting, and lunch time. I am married with a 3-month old child and I own my home. So when I get home from work, the work isn't done. And I have a life outside of blogs. I actually get together with my friends and family face-to-face and talk and argue over many, if not all, of the exact same things I write about here. There are 4 or 5 of us that are near legendary status at McCaffery's bar here in Lincoln Park for the lively debate and discussions we hold together. Sometimes bringing in "the townies" as well. What's more fun and way more cool? Going to an old Irish Pub and debating politics, arguing the narcissism level of Hemingway, how true is Global Warming, should you home-school your children, is hell real, how do you raise your boy to not be a sissy, guns, sex, rock and roll. Or typing on a blog, by yourself (maybe bitching to your wife about what Corey said this time, as she rolls her eyes at you) and then just sitting back and letting the "conversation" unfold?

What?

Typing thoughts..oops, I mean propaganda out on a keyboard only gets me so far. Human interaction and intimcy is what is needed. Sorry, I can't spend hours in front of a computer pounding out a manifesto everytime something strikes my fancy. Sometimes I find a few spare moments at work to do this. Very rarely I find time at home to do it as well. Friday nights and Saturday mornings about narrows it down for me.

I read a lot of good stuff by all the friends, people, and blogs I have listed to the right sidebar. For as much as I fire off comments there are more times I want to but just don't have the time. Scot McKnight, Steve McCoy, Michael Spencer, et. al have the time and profession to post all day long and think out loud on a blog and monitor their own comments and reply to comments and on and on. I do not. Actually, I don't want that.

Do not get me wrong. I want regular readers to my blog. I want to raise hell and argue over our life views. But it does me no good to hold back myself just to keep "readership." My goal is not to avoid hurting your feelings. But I do not want anyone to never want to read what I have to say. I'm too narcissistic for that, as are all bloggers. Let me say this too, being exasperated over your dogma and propaganda doesn't give me or anyone else the right to call names, but insuating you are being a child is not being done to offend you.

This blog is about me, your blog is about you. There's nothing wrong with that and it's ok. Outside of accosting me or my wife and family, anything you have to say is welcome here, but expect me to respond to it, and you may not like the response.

Get over it!

Catchin' Up

Man, what a week.

1 - It was Michele's first week back to work. Good news is that she works from home 100%. Oh, the blessing that is technology. Still closing million dollar loans in her pajamas at home. Gotta love that. The bad part is that even though we have some of the woman from our church helping her baby-sit she can hear Seth cry and for the last 12 weeks, se was right there for him. Now she has to finish the phone call or the email or the paperwork. So it has been a little tough on her getting re-adjusted to the new schedule.

2 - I was MIA with a fever over 100 degrees almost all week. Started Tuesday night and by Thursday eveing I was at about 99 degrees. Still, today I am feeling it. But much, much better.

So pile on me being sick and really not coming within 3 feet of Seth for 3 days with Michele working from home and she didn't leave the house once since Monday evening. So she needed to get out and did this morning. So I stayed home and watched Seth (he slept for 3 hours...man that was so hard to do) and was able to catch up on a lot of reading in the blogosphere, political world, and sporting world. As well as work some more on the masculinity series I am trying to tread through. As well, as a brand new lottery system. I'll lay that out at the end.

Tigers are back in first. Ordonez is crushing the ball, Sheffield is back. Some concern with the pitching staff falling apart lately. But do not forget that the Tigers have some young arms in the minors just waiting to crack the majors (Andrew Miller, Virgil Vazquez, Kyle Sleeth, etc.) They'll be fine.

Pistons are going to steamroll to the Finals. They'll probably lose one game, maybe 2 before the Finals. I'd put 50-50 odds on them not losing a game until the Finals. With Dallas out of the picture, the Pistons will win it.

Red Wings - the most underrated 1 seed ever. The "sports critics" give them no credit and claim they aren't grimey, gritty, and tough enough. But they've been the money line favorite in Vegas all playoffs long. You really want a picture of the sports world, look at the Vegas sports lines.

Imagine a June with the Pistons and Red Wings going for the championship and the Tigers battling in the bst division in baseball for first place. If you are a Detroit Sports fan, best time ever right now.

Here are some other great links I read today.

Scripture is all you need - an excerpt

However, the enlightenment, which he called "a movement of spiritual darkness," then so elevated human reason that it became the arbiter of truth and the final authority on all matters. The result was skepticism which led to naturalism and a corresponding suppression of the work of God the Holy Spirit as the illuminator of Truth. Subsequently, those who were considered the experts on Scripture were no longer humble people filled and led by God the Holy Spirit to live a life of love in obedience to Jesus, but rather rationalistic modern critics of both Scripture and the supernatural. According to Packer, the sad result of such subjectivity, where there is no truth but rather only one's opinion, is that my opinion only matters to myself. Tragically, as Francis Schaeffer predicted, subjectivism leads to despair because if there is no Truth and no answers to the great and perplexing questions about life beyond my own subjective opinion, then hope is forever buried.

Dinner is one of the most important elements to the family - a family philosophy Michele and I have been firm on from the beginning. Yes, we have already started it, somewhat.

An excerpt

The largest portion of these family meals was the best part of the day. I think we would all agree that not only was this important to the parenting process, but it defined our family and our relationships to one another in many ways. In my mind, I remember this as a special, much blessed time.

How did the family meal make for successful parenting?

We learned to talk to one another. Conversation is a hallmark of the Spencer family. We talk and we enjoy talking as a family. Sometimes the kids would fight over who was interrupting whom in a conversation. Considering where a lot of people are with their kids- cold silence- this was a good problem to have.

Seem slike Toby is feeling the same way as me lately.

Corey has been thinking way too much in the stillness of the night, he needs to get back to sleep and get it while he still can.

John Frye has a post on a book that is on my hit list this summer.

and

Gary's boy looks just like him, duh.

And now the new lottery. This would raise millions for the schools. Milions for the roads in Michigan and will probably piss a lot of you off.

First, you have to go here and read the story and watch the video to the top right of the screen

Here is what we should do in cases like this.

Hold a lottery everytime something like this happens. Each ticket is a buck or two. In this case, he hit the old man 21 times. There are 21 winners. Everyone who buys a ticket gets there names put into a huge hopper. You can buy as many as you want. They draw out 21 winners. Each winner gets one free shot at this guy. Now you can only punch him where he punched the old man. So in the face or arm. No where else.

How could that not be a winner.

It's been a great Saturday morning. Time to do some yard work. Maybe I'll get a petition started on the lottery thing too.

Friendship?

FIND OUT WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE

Run your car off the side of the road
Get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowehere
Get yourslef in a bind lose the shirt off your back
Need a floor need a couch need a bus fare

This is where the rubber meets the road
This is where the cream is gonna rise
This is what you really didn't know
This is where the truth don't lie

{Chorus}
You find out who your friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas get their fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who you're friends are

Everybody wants to slap your back
wants to shake your hand
when you're up on top of that mountain
But let one of those rocks give way then you slide back down look up
and see who's around then

This ain't where the road comes to an end
This ain't where the bandwagon stops
This is just one of those times when
Alot of folks jump off

{Chorus}

When the water's high
When the weather's not so fair
When the well runs dry
Who's gonna be there

{Chorus}

*******************************************

I love this song, I know it is country music (of which I am a partial fan) but this songs catches it all in just a couple verses.

But, did you notice what is missing from these song lyrics?

There's no mention of always being in agreement. There's nothing that says you never have a disagreement or an argument.

Friends disagree, and I would contend best friends disagree ALOT. I'm not saying all the time, I'm not saying even half the time. But they do. But in the end you know they are always there for you. You can tell them what you think, bounce an idea off of them, or give your opinion and if they disagree with you or think your nuts, they tell you.

And they are still there with you side by side walking along while disagreeing.
Friends don't lie to you and just go along and make you think they like everything you have to say.

Some of my best friendships have been with people who have polarizing political, religious, or social views to mine. Maybe I like the intriguing discussions that arise and in turn always want to talk to them and in turn we become friends and then next thing you know it's like, "whoa I can't believe we are friends and I just called you to help get me out of the ditch."

I hear it all the time from people, they say, "a true friend hears you out and lets you say what you have to say." But doesn't it go both ways? If you are a true friend you let them do the same and if they think you are off your rocker, they can tell you that and nothing gets taken personal and you both grow from that.
Seems very selfish for someone to believe a true friend always agrees with them and wouldn't voice an opposing opinion.

Those are my .02, do with them what you like, but I would like to hear from others their view point.