I’ve also gone through my RSS feeds to see if there was anything I felt like writing about. The news of the terror attacks in India is disheartening, but beyond that I don’t have enough info to say much about it yet. Nothing else is springing to mind either so consider this another open thread in case I don’t get around to posting anything else tonight. I’ve got the next four days off so I’ll try not to be a total slacker and at least post something here and there. I’m kicking around a review of Wrath of the Lich King now that my main is at level 75. We’ll see.

What are you folks up to tonight?

In other news, I got my midterm grade in my Networking class and I’m sitting pretty with an A for the moment. Out of the six or so tests we’ve had so far I’ve been wrong on a grand total of three questions and one of those questions was one I didn’t see at all because it was on the back page of the test. Sometimes I feel it’s not really fair as I already know 90% of the material being covered. The OSI model is one of the few things (so far) I didn’t already know, but the class promises to be digging into more arcane knowledge as the weeks progress so I’m hoping that feeling that I’ve got an unfair advantage will pass soon. The instructor thinks I’m great, though, because I’m able to answer even his tricky questions during the lectures. When he was discussing standards the other night he made a point of how the standards groups don’t always agree on a standard for quite awhile and he asked what current standard we could cite as an example. I spoke up with the 802.11 N wireless standard—we’ve not gotten into wireless networking in the class yet—which was exactly what he was thinking of. Of course Blu-ray and HD-DVD would also fit the bill.

Lastly, the folks at Blizzard have started the World Event that heralds the pending arrival of the WotLK expansion. Mysterious crates have shown up around Azeroth that, when opened, infect players with a plague. If not cured within 10 minutes you turn into a zombie and can run around using special zombie powers killing and infecting other players and NPCs. This has been great fun and I unleashed my zombified self on the middle square of Stormwind last night taking out some 20 people before dieing from the resulting melee. So far the outbreaks have been relatively easy to contain. Players of the Priest and Paladin classes can cure disease and there’s a number of Argent Dawn healers spread around various cities that will also heal you of the disease, but Blizzard warns that this is only the beginning and that things will get much worse before the expansion hits. Player controlled zombies run amok in Azeroth? How cool is that?

In regards to World of Warcraft one thing I’m really looking forward to with the release of the WotLK expansion is a new title you can earn via an achievement. It’s an homage to the infamous Leroy Jenkins party wipe video and it’s called, appropriately enough, Leeeeeeeeeeeeeroy! You gain it by killing 50 rookery whelps within 15 seconds and as a reward you gain the title “Jenkins” which shows up after your character’s name. In the case of my Dwarven Hunter it would make it appear as though his name is “Balfour Jenkins.” Given that my last name really is Jenkins then it should go without saying why this is the single most important achievement I can aspire to in the game.

Let’s see, is there anything else from the weekend worth talking about? Hmmmm. I may have helped SEB regular JethricOne convince his wife that they NEED to have a PS3 and a shiny new HDTV on Saturday. Just doing my part to stimulate the economy by getting other people to spend their money. Anything else? Nope. Guess that is it for now.

This bit of trivial fluff brought to you by a deep-seated desire not to think about politics for a bit longer.

What’s even more telling about Detroit’s problem, though, is that it appears the dead are fleeing as well:

By now the statistics are as well known in London as they are in Livonia. Detroit has lost half its population since its heyday of the 1950s, and every year the city hemorrhages an estimated 5,000 people more. First it was white flight to the suburbs; then with the city’s continued spiral into poverty and violence, blacks began to flee to those same suburbs. And while census figures show that whites are returning to some of the nation’s largest cities, Detroit is experiencing a flight of a different kind. As the Imbrunones’ second funeral demonstrates, Detroit is experiencing the flight of the dead.

The movement of the dead from the nation’s largest black city to its overwhelmingly white suburbs is a small, though socially symbolic phenomenon, revealing the grinding problems of race, crime and economics that plague both sides of Eight Mile.

From 2002 through 2007, the remains of about 1,000 people have been disinterred and moved out of the city, according to permits stored in metal filing cabinets in the city’s department of health. Looked at in another way, for about every 30 living human beings who leave Detroit, one dead human being follows. Moreover, anecdotal evidence compiled by a Detroit professor suggests the figure may be twice as high, meaning city records may be incomplete and that thousands upon thousands of deceased people have been relocated from the city over the past 20 years.

I have to admit that I don’t have a lot of room for the dead in my life. As far as I know I’ve never been to my biological father’s grave site. It doesn’t help that it’s someplace in North Carolina and I don’t have a clue as to where, but even if I did I can’t say that I’d ever stop by to see it. My maternal grandparents are buried in West Branch, Michigan and I’ve not been back to their graves since their funerals. The same goes for my Uncle Bob (Grayling, Michigan) and Uncle Gene (Dryden, Michigan I think). Even my best friend Bill Owen has yet to have me visit his grave in Auburn Hills, Michigan. Again, none of those are particularly close to where I’m currently living, but I could make the trip if I wanted to. When my mother passes away or my stepfather I can’t say with any certainty that I’ll ever visit their graves either.

I’ve always felt a little odd about that because I know a few people who make pilgrimages to the graves of loved ones on a regular basis. I think part of it is probably because I don’t believe in an afterlife and even if I did I’m not sure going to a grave would be necessary to talk to whichever deceased person I wanted to talk to. Not being a believer I’m not real clear on how all that stuff is supposed to work, but you see scenes in movies all the time where someone visits a dead person’s grave and talks to them about something or other as if the grave was some sort of metaphysical phone or something. I often wonder if there’s something wrong with me that I don’t feel the need to go see where someone I love is buried. And now that I think about it I realize I’m not sure if my maternal grandparents were buried or cremated. How sad is that?

The point being that I can’t begin to understand why someone would feel the need to dig up dead grandparents who have been in the same plot of ground for over 50 years (as is the case in the news item I linked to) just to relocate them to the suburbs. The article offers two possible explanations:

The practice appears to be most common among families like the Imbrunones: former east side Catholic Detroiters who moved to Macomb County years ago, miles away from their dearly departed. The cemetery that appears to lose the most is Mount Olivet, located in the heart of the wild east side, with about 100 disinterments a year. The destination of choice seems to be Resurrection Cemetery in Clinton Township, which is now home to 11 members of the Imbrunone family.

Although there is little information or statistical evidence regarding the phenomenon across the country, it is quite likely that Detroit and its surrounding communities lead the way, as it does in population loss among the living.

The reasons are two-fold, surmises Patrick Lynch, a Clawson funeral home director and executive board member of the National Funeral Directors Association. “People have to drive to a place that may take them through neighborhoods they otherwise may never go,” he said. “Their safety might be compromised. Whether that is real or perceived, it’s real to them.

“Second, families have left the city and they want to bring their family members closer to them,” Lynch said. “People have grown older and they simply don’t or can’t drive to the city anymore. They want to be near to those they love.”

[...] The granddaughters, being the next of kin, elected to pay the approximately $5,000 to move their grandparents to Macomb County because they wanted to be closer to them. “In our family you don’t forget about your people,” Palazzolo said. “I hope that’s human. It’s at least Italian.”

Love. That was one part of the decision. There is another.

“To tell you the truth, yes, it’s fear,” Palazzolo said. “Have you been to Detroit? I pray the car doesn’t break down. I cringe when I drive down Gratiot. I’m worried for my life. There’s a lot of bad people in Detroit. But to tell you the truth, there’s a lot of bad people out here. But at least we’re closer this way.”

Earlier this summer Peter Cracchiolo, 89, of Grosse Pointe Shores, removed his mother and sister from Mount Olivet and relocated them to Resurrection. Cracchiolo, too, grew up on the city’s east side and his family was part of the great white exodus. His explanation for moving his dearly departed was convenience, though the Detroit cemetery is closer to his home.

“I’ve already got relatives up there,” he said of the suburban cemetery. “I’ve got friends up there. It’s one-stop visiting this way. Me, I don’t forget my people. No sir.”

I still don’t understand. I haven’t forgotten my grandparents, uncles, or my best friend despite them being dead for quite some time now, but I’ve never felt the need to drive to their graves for a visit. Nor, for that matter, would I feel any better if they were closer to where I lived. What I do understand is the Professor’s explanation:

“What it says to me is that there is a deeply ingrained fear on the part of suburbanites in terms of their attitude toward the city and its hold is very powerful and very deep,” Vogel said. “When they’re afraid to cross Eight Mile to visit a cemetery, it tells you what we’re up against and any solutions are not going to be easy.”

When I was a kid stories of how dangerous Detroit was were discussed at a whisper usually reserved for tales of the Bogeyman and, in many ways, that’s exactly what Detroit was to us middle class white kids. Even where I grew up in Pontiac, which in many ways wasn’t all that different from Detroit, the tales of murder and depravity in the city were near legendary. I can clearly recall, after hearing one particularly horrible story at the tender age of 8 of how the blacks would murder any white person they caught in Detroit after midnight, that I swore to myself I’d never set foot in the city out of fear for my life (which is ironic because I was literally born in Detroit). It was a matter of bragging rights to be a white kid who claimed to have spent any amount of time in Detroit. Racism clearly played a role in the stories and it still does today.

Given that Bogeyman-like hold Detroit has over so many people in the suburbs I can understand how they’d feel uncomfortable having to drive into the city to visit a grave site. But I don’t understand the need to visit grave sites in the first place. I can also see the troubling sign that the Dead Flight represents and how it shows Detroit still has a long way to go before it’ll come close to its former glory.

I’ve noticed over the past several weeks, roughly about the time gas hit four bucks a gallon here, a growing trend of people doing 65MPH or slower on the freeways. Whereas my excursions into the passing lane used to be infrequent and short lived they are now coming more often and for greater lengths of time. The number of idiots doing 90 while weaving through traffic has diminished quite a bit mainly because there’s too much congestion for them to have a hope of dodging their way through traffic.

It’s a simple fact that lower speeds use less gas, that was part of the motivation to make the speed limit 55MPH during the first energy crunch, but I’m surprised at the number of people who seem to be voluntarily participating in driving slower. At least one person I know says they’re definitely slowing down to save gas and has netted an extra 80 miles out of a full tank for doing so. It’s somewhat ironic that high gas prices are accomplishing something that draconian speed laws and occasional police crack downs haven’t been able to for years: Get people to drive slower.

Of course whereas I was once annoyed by people driving too fast I’m now annoyed by people driving too slow, but if I had to pick one of the two evils to deal with I’ll happily go with the latter one.

You’re at a party, and the lights are flashing, the music is pumping, and people talking, laughing, clapping, dancing, and then a rumor starts: somewhere, out of sight, someone might have puked. Like a wave it moves through the crowd, touching everyone as they consider, “Oh no, I may be next”, and they swallow nervously, not wanting it to be true, but with that tentative swallow, they know the truth: they could indeed.

Read the rest of the post on SmugBaldy.com

Anyway, the Giant Tire was something that always fascinated me on the infrequent occasions I saw it as a child and it’s been there for as long as I can remember. I recall asking someone, possibly my parents, where it came from and being told that it was once a ferris wheel or that it once had a ferris wheel inside of it. I tried to imagine there being a little door people could walk in to ride the ferris wheel inside the tire and thought it was a shame you couldn’t do that any longer. Then I thought it was weird that you’d want to ride a ferris wheel inside a tire as the view would totally suck.

It never occurred to me to use the Internet to look up just what the hell it looked like when it was a ferris wheel until I saw this item on the 1964 NYC Worlds Fair at Boing Boing. The picture included with the article is of the Giant Tire as ferris wheel which you can see in the image on the right (and can again click to embiggen).

And I had that feeling of a paradigm shift in how I see the Giant Tire. The first shift dealt with the fact that the tire is a mere three years older than I am being as I was born in 1967 so, yes, that’s exactly why it would seem to me like it’s always been there because for me it always has.

The other shift was a realization of how silly I’d been for imagining that people went inside the tire to ride a ferris wheel with no view to speak of. It never once crossed my mind that they’d have built it in the manner shown to the right. It was also cool to find the Uniroyal webpage devoted to the history of the tire:

The Uniroyal® Giant Tire was originally created as a Ferris wheel attraction at the 1964/1965 New York World’s Fair. The wheel held 96 fairgoers and was powered by a 100-horsepower motor. More than two million people rode the Giant Tire Ferris wheel during the fair, including Jacqueline Kennedy and her children, John Jr. and Caroline.

After the 1965 World’s Fair festivities ended, the Giant Tire was relocated to a Uniroyal sales office in Allen Park, Michigan, and has towered alongside I-94 near the Metro Airport ever since. Over the decades it has become an important symbol of Uniroyal’s 111-year heritage and a cultural icon for the city of Detroit known the world over.

In 1994, the Giant Tire received a facelift to give it a sleeker, more modern look. Neon lighting and a new hubcap were added.

In August of 1998, the Giant Tire was modified again—this time to resemble a NailGard® tire. A giant nail was placed in the tread to demonstrate the product’s ability to seal 90% of tread punctures up to 3/16” in diameter.

In 2003, Uniroyal invested close to $1 million to renovate the Giant Tire as its contribution to Detroit’s I-94 corridor revitalization effort. The renovation, which included structural repairs and an update to the exterior, will ensure that the Giant Tire is enjoyed for many years to come.

I can remember the upgrades it received over the years. I can also remember seeing that a lot of idiots liked to take potshots at the tire with bows and arrows as there were a number of arrows sticking out of the tire at various points over the years. I recall reading somewhere that some folks opted to shoot at it with guns instead of arrows which would make riding a ferris wheel inside of it a rather more risky undertaking. To this day I’d love to have a chance to see the inside of it even though the ferris wheel that once sat inside is long gone. I found that out from this Detroit News article on the tire and Michigan’s Giant Wood Stove:

The interior’s Ferris wheel assembly went to an amusement park and a new framework of structural steel was built to support the giant attraction. The tire weighs more than 100 tons and took 130 days to rebuild. The tire, described as “the largest ever built,” is designed to withstand hurricane force winds, and certainly blowouts.

In 1990, Michelin Tire bought Uniroyal-Goodrich Tire Co, and in 1994, announced plans to renovate the structure. The tire’s fiberglass cover, washed, painted and updated, emerged with a sporty new look. A company official, Lowell Eckart, Uniroyal brand marketing manager, said: “Updating the giant tire is symbolic of the revitalization that the Uniroyal brand itself is experiencing,” he said. “Given the brand’s prominent position as an original-equipment supplier, it is fitting that the symbol of the brand’s close connection to Detroit be refurbished.”

The Uniroyal plant attracted generations of men and women seeking a better life and a better future. Now only the giant tire remains to bear witness to the working lives of those who sweated and toiled in the riverfront factory that helped build the city of Detroit.

I always get a little thrill from learning the history of things like the Giant Tire. It’s been there my entire life and I never fail to think about it whenever I drive past it, but only after 40 years have I ever been in a spot to learn about it. I’d thought about looking it up any number of times when driving past it, as I did every day for the entire four years that I worked at Ford Motor Company, but by the time I’d get to a computer my ADD would have long since kicked in and made me forget all about it. At least until the next time I saw it. It’s like finding a long missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle that you’ve been meaning to finish finally show up and fall into place.

Um, OK. Not quite sure what to do with that bit of advice, but OK.