Murder and Hockey: A new description of how bad things are in Detroit -- yeah, I'm at it again -- includes this wonderful line: "...there were 344 murders in 2011, of which just 39 were solved." Maybe Detroit is the new Juarez. Seriously, that sounds like something pretty close to anarchy. It's a wonder murderers from all across the globe don't dump bodies along Cass Corridor knowing full well that no one'll will ever get around to looking into the case. But we still want a new hockey stadium. Let's not lose track of what's important.
Meanwhile, across Eight Mile Rd. in Southfield, where I grew up, the good middle-class blacks are trying to keep the bad ghetto blacks from moving in, thanks to the real estate meltdown. Holy exploding irony meters, Batman. I wish I could wax eloquent about the glories of the Southfield of my childhood, but I cannot tell a lie. It is a dreary, soulless slab of cement filled with nondescript office buildings and downscale strip malls. Still, at least it's not Detroit.
Now I have a policy of never going east of U.S. 23 unless I have to get to the airport. I am a wise man.