I experienced my first midwestern winter this year in Detroit. Maybe it was the shorter days, or the people seen less frequently, or the fog that hugged Lafayette Park and diffused the lamp glow. Whatever the case, I found it a new experience that left room for interesting human interactions, a sort of magical realism, ¿verdad?


Sitting in my sunny apartment and writing this post, it is hard to remember the seemingly endless winter and sense dread that I felt almost daily. ¿sucedió a otra persona?

In the setting of Detroit, a city with hidden treasures and history, I encountered The Man in the Orange Safety Vest standing in the snowy, abandoned parking lot late one January night. Barely visible through the sleet, he told me not to worry, a heat wave was coming.

Weeks later, a need for a spontaneous piercing led me and three other fellows around Detroit, to the suburbs, and back where a man with “STAR WARS” tattooed on his hands, strong knuckle style, put a needle through my ear.

On Valentines Day, I stood in line at Mudgies and explained to my friends the dance styles seen at Temple Bar the night before. “It looked like the chicken dance from Arrested Development,” I began, you know, when Tobias and company each have a wildly different style of movement. My eyes shifted to the opening door as David Cross and wife entered. “Is this where we wait?” he asked me. I stared blankly at him, my vitamin D deficiancy causing my eyes to glaze over and stunt my vocal chords.