Today marks the 40th anniversary of the beginning of Detroit's darkest 36 hours. Over a thousand injuries, 43 dead (33 black, most killed by police or National Guard, one 4-year-old girl included), and a city that never quite recovered add up to what we have today: buildings that were never repaired and a similar fate for race relations.

In some ways, the city never really recovered from the 1943 riots that stemmed from the desegregation of housing projects built for war workers, and tensions simmered for 20 more years. Police brutality, urban "renewal" projects that destroyed whole neighborhoods, and the overall anxiety of the civil rights era all built up and finally culminated in an ill-advised raid on an after hours bar hosting a Vietnam homecoming party.

A day and a half later, it looked like the apocalypse hit, and in some ways we're still living in a post-apocalyptic world here. It's hard to have faith most of the time, but let's hope that the slow, one-step-forward two-step-back progress can continue or even strengthen.

The final day of CityFest on Sunday was ridiculously hot. But we spent a lot of it in the shade of the stage or VIP tent with our backstage passes for the kings of power pop, Cheap Trick. How awesome is that? I don't always care to see bands I like at free festival-type shows because they invariably half-ass it, but I get the feeling that Rick Nielsen always seems to half-ass it in his own special way.

He was chattier than most rock stars on stage though, whipping out joke after (sometimes funny) joke and changing guitars every song –sometimes in the middle of a song. He wore a suit jacket the whole time, while Robin Zander pranced around amiably in leather pants. How these somewhat aging rockers didn't drop dead is beyond me, but it was interesting to note the similarities between the once-pretty-boy Zander's pants and his face. Here's a pic with Nielsen's (arguably) most obnoxious guitar:



Big bummer? We got there late and missed "Big Eyes," but caught "Surrender," "Dream Police" and the second "Hello There." Bigger bummer? It was a "family" show so they were barred from playing "He's A Whore," one of my all-time favorites.

Some of you might be wondering... what's going on with that Mike character? Most of you likely are not, but I'll clue you in, in the form of an overdue and overlong blog post.

Toronto. It's a fine town, maybe a bit hip for me (does anyone over 40 even live in that town?). Erika has an office there, and occasionally goes for meetings. I go for a change of pace. Normally that means changing my office to the Soho Metropolitan for a few days, but this time it was the Drake, a "boutique" hotel in the art district. We were in the suite, which somehow managed to have nearly 400 square feet and almost no space to work. Still, I got a lot done while there. The restaurant is great, and they don't correct you when you correctly pronounce the name of your Scotch. A notable feature of the Drake: a unique room service menu from which you can order doohickeys. Dirty doohickeys. I washed my hands immediately after touching it, and of course sent a photo to Gavin. I missed the name of the band that played at dinner, but they did jazz-lounge versions of Metallica, Doors, Selecter, and Michael Jackson hits. Entertaining!



New Mexico. I took Friday off for travel, and didn't immediately make the connection that Matt, WIN's designer, was off as well on the launch day of the iPhone. Well... we managed, between Celly (I'd say I owe him a beer, but really Matt owes him a beer ;) ), smartphone email (which worked less and less over the course of the weekend, thanks to the AT&T Edge network clogging with Apple hordes), and the occasional airport wi-fi hotspot. So what's in New Mexico? Sand. A lot of it. Also, our friend Megan, a lot of clean air, and that infamous dry heat. We ate a lot of tacos, soaked in some hot mineral springs in the mountains outside Santa Fe, and visited Albuquerque's swell aquarium.



Detroit's Tastefest/Cityfest/whatever. They change the name every year. Free shows (so far I've seen Spoon and Weird Al Yankovic), demos from Erika and her Roller Derby crew, and overpriced beer and food from area restaurants, all in a closed-off couple of blocks in the New Center area. This is still going on, but my next trip down will be Sunday to see Cheap Trick! Woot!



Transformers. Those who see the twitter know... I paid to see my first ever Michael Bay special-effects blowout flick. Why? Because they invaded my childhood. You know, the part of my childhood that loved a blatantly commercial cartoon made to sell toys (that I also loved). It's not a bad flick. Pure popcorn, plenty of don't-think-about-that-too-much plot moments, and the voice of the original Optimus Prime. I didn't feel ripped off in the movie sense, the "stuff from childhood" sense, or most importantly, the Giant Robot sense.

The earthquake. This just happened. It wasn't really an earthquake, but I wondered for a second. So I stepped outside to find a backhoe thingy tearing down the house next door. It's sort of a half-house built parallel to my backyard instead of the rest of the houses on the street. It took forever to sell this weird anomoly but apparently the developer who bought it is finally getting down to business. Next steps: dig a hole and cut down some massive trees that hang precariously over my roof.



And now? Preparations are being made for something neat that's been a long time coming and that I can't wait to blog about next week.

As if the World Series beatdown wasn't bad enough, St. Louis has beaten us at our own game this time. Apparently you're (probably only somewhat) more likely to get a violent crime handed to you in St. Louis than in Detroit. Of course, factor in the Southwest surrounding area including Dearborn and Livonia and we get the top metro area. What do you have to say to that? Nothing, you're too busy running away. Yeah, me too.