Detroit

Not that long ago, a surgeon I work with commented that the song playing, Glycerine by Bush, sounded like Detroit felt. I stopped. I listened. I said, "You are right.

Dylan listened to the video as I told the story to him, and in his limited experience, he agreed. The surgeon did his residency in Detroit, which is where he got the idea.

The band may well not have ever been there, but somehow, they got the vibe, and played it out. Industry past it's prime, a city past it's prime, grime and energy, the verve of a black culture that may include the name Maybeline, anxious mixtures and hard edged working class cutting against immigrant foods and unchecked money. Guns and smuggled whiskey from Canada. Ice storms and muggy summers of illegal fireworks and art seminars.

I don't miss my hometown. Only bits, here and there. No doubt long gone, after so long.