ON PLYMOUTH ROAD, IT’S OBVIOUS WHAT’S FOR DINNER
Riding west approaching a woman walking in the same direction, a red P-150 rolls by, honking its horn, a fifty-ish black man honks at her. The duo is only about a block and a half, a little less away from me. The woman keeps walking, ignoring the man’s attempts to get her attention. I guess he assumes she is a ‘Jenny’, a streetwalker (and in this case, ‘Jenny’ references Forest Gump’s star-crossed lady love but not my 'Jenny' whom I think that the literary character was profiled against) who is out ahead of sundown. Watching what did not transpire made me think how tough and dehumanizing it can be to simply be an standard attractive woman out for a walk when, a few blocks further ahead the same truck, who had moved back to the lane that was further from pedestrian traffic going west, veers sharply back near the curb, and that is when I saw ANOTHER woman walk briskly to his passenger door. Pedaling slowly into a breeze, not particularly stiff but more than enough to be noticed, the woman goes on and gets into the truck, the brief negotiation taking no more than ten, fifteen seconds, tops. “Oh well,” I think to myself, so much for the ‘objectification of woman’ thought that came to mind at the sight of the unknown driver and his first attempt to find a ‘date’.
One of the things in that I found disconcerting about one of the ads for ‘Detroit 187’ is the notion that ‘once you live in Detroit, you feel a part of it’, or some other inaccurate balderdash that some uninformed scriptwriter obviously felt would give the show a manufacture attachment between the cast of characters and the city in and its residents which they are ‘sworn to protect and serve’. One of the big things that I learned in the nearly two years I have spent bouncing between ‘provincial towns’ and NOVA, is that there is no longer a residency requirement to be an officer on the Detroit police force. That is a critical element in a lot of the local hostility towards the DPD, along with the diminishing service that the residents receive because of city’s shrinking tax base (tragically demonstrated by the fires that pretty much wiped out a neighborhood here recently) that has increased response times and fewer patrols around town. Not to mention questions of commitment and empathy between citizens and the officers.
I know that with a generation of racial hostility between the surrounding areas and Detroit, I would have less (than the little that I maintain in the police out of general principle) confidence that any interaction between me and anyone in law enforcement turning out well, because you would never get me to believe that some cat who grew up in Brighton or Walled Lake is going to bring the same kind of sensitivity or awareness that someone who was born and raised off Mt. Elliot would have. In short, I think that the show is going to be typical Hollywood piece of confection, a slick processed attempt to capitalize off of the attention that Detroit’s hard times have garnered. I am wondering who among the production team or writing staff was supposed to do the research on that kind of thing, especially since it was things like the S.T.R.E.S.S units that contributed to the election of the city’s first black Mayor (a potentate who style was favored by one Kwame Kilpatrick), Coleman Young. As I write this, I see similarities in the same way that there are some who look at the ‘Dubya’ Presidency with such fondness and there are those who can’t believe that someone who they feel was such an incompetent leader managed to be elected twice to office, I feel the same way about Mayor Young. His cravenness seemed obvious to me as tween, and I think history has proven me correct. As I feel that history will show a ‘blackness’ in looking back upon the Presidency of George W. Bush and his cabinet.
Well, I don’t think nor sense that there is an ‘ownership’ spirit in the DPD, and with outstate folks on the force, I think that it is going to be even more aggravated a relationship between those who ‘protect’ and those that they serve.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
Whether the Reverend Jones spoke to anyone or not, the Koran burning did not take place and I am like, ‘What does that mean?’ Right now, I don’t think that it matters or even WOULD HAVE MATTERED, especially in light of what DID happen in Afghanistan regarding the troops who were out there taking ‘souvenirs’ of the bones of dead civilians as trophies. Somehow, I am thinking that what did take place, though it may not have had the impact of what Rev. Jones was doing (and I think he was more misguided than he was out seeking publicity) throughout the Muslim world, as far as Afghanistan goes, will certainly harden their hearts and minds, making them more susceptible to ‘less than leaders’, and it more than sort of resembles what happened in Detroit in the early seventies…
FOR REAL, THANK YOU EVERYONE
I am still leaning on the side of stopping my contributions to the blogoshere, but I want everyone who have left a comment or simply read my journal to know how much I appreciate their taking the time out to spend a minute or two trying to decipher my pendant, scattered thoughts that are associated with my current mood. A better judge than if there are any more entries here will be if I can make and leave salient comments in other’s journals.
As personal as I think I am with my blog, it was way more easier to be open when there was the illusion of anonymity. But having shared so much and received so much back, I feel that I owe it to those who read to be able to share better content than I have been lately. As it is, whatever this is I am enduring may not go away and I don’t want to elicit pity or sorrow. I don’t feel bad about things coming to this and if I had to do come this way again, ‘I’d bring more money’(link to a video that along with ‘Undercover of the Night’, helped to shape my views of Central American, Reagan era policy), i.e., try to squeeze even more fun out of the life that I have had. Not only do I think I would not be as open were we to deal with each other in a tangible way, Nebraska has on occasion peeked in here and I would rather she make the kind of commitment that I would ask of someone who would want to know me in the kind of depth that I try to explore with myself in my journal, and to set a course with me towards something.
The lady from housing in Omaha finally called back to let me know that she has not yet received my deposit on my apartment. I feel a lot more comfortable having used a postal money order than I would have using a rinky-dink money order from one of the party stores that dot the neighborhood. Not that one is so much more secure or anything, only it makes me feel more comfortable with being able to get things straightened out, you know? Anywho, I told her that I would take the apartment, and it looks like I will be heading out west in October. Hurray for me!!
Also, I went to a thingy at the library this weekend and the speaker was talking about the benefits of meditation. I don’t know if I have ever shared this with y’all, but when I was ‘joggin’ round provincial towns’, I had read a story about how mediation helped lower blood pressure. Though I have not been a steady practitioner (were I, then maybe this cloud bank I am in, would not be so dense), I do effort when it comes to mediation and in generally being contemplative without scouring for ancient hurts and grievances. The instructor gave us some chants… all of which were pedestrian but I was fully committed to the process. When we neared the end of the session, I, along with four other women (one of whom was the librarian who reminds me of the SFC) was instructed to hold our hand over our heads and to describe what we ‘felt’, which all of us did. I went first, and I felt a depreciating coolness with both hand, the left, which was second, being cooler than my right. All of the women reported feeling a ‘warmth’ running through the top of their heads to their hands. I was alone in ‘being cool’.
The speaker leading the session then said that the ‘warm’ feeling represented the effort that it took for the chakras to flow through and that it was an indication of all the work that the energy had to do to flow through, an indication of a person having a lot of the world in their thoughts, separating them from their spirit. Being cool was a sign that I had less separating me from my spirit and was a good sign. If that was what was being sold, sign me up for two!!
Now there are several more things that I would like to share in this space before I make a decision one way or the other. I feel a lot better and even more so, hearing from the lady in Omaha. I don’t know if I plugged for Matt Bors book, ‘War Is Boring’, but I prolly will do a few ‘book reports’ before I am done as well.