I bring this all up because of my younger brother Rick, who seems bound to reside within a one square mile area on the west side of Detroit. In his sixty + years on earth, he has rarely ventured beyond the city’s borders.
The exceedingly few times he has visited with me or my other suburban brother can be counted on one hand. Those times were always a dramatic event. We were never sure if Rick would find his way to far out desolate spots on the map, places like West Bloomfield or Northville. Every time we invite him to visit, that invitation goes out with a full set of Mapquest or Google Maps. We also provide him with a step by step written directions.
It’s all to no avail as he will forget the maps or misinterpret the verbal instructions. Perhaps he doesn’t know his left from his right. Whatever the reason, he usually gets lost when he passes the frontier border of 8 Mile Rd. It is as if he fears that “there be dragons” ahead should he go on.
While suburbanites fear the crime ridden streets of the motor city, it never phases brother Rick. To him, the lily white, safe environment that the outer ring of cities offer are anathema to him. Every year we invite. Every year he is a no show. That is the reality of life with Rick and we are good with that.
P.S.Rick has never been on an airplane, nor has he been out of the state of Michigan. I guess he is one of the rare individuals who can be called a true Detroiter. But is he really?
We have come to believe that our “brother” is from another world, the son of an alien family that somehow planted him here for safe keeping when their spacecraft crashed decades ago. That theory works for us and explains his pointed ears and greenish complexion. It also explains that mysterious sonic boom and explosion that occurred in our backyard sixty something years ago.