Notown.

Less than two weeks ago, I picked up a page-turning
unauthorized biography of Diana Ross ("Call Her Miss
Ross") in a Georgetown, Kentucky antique shop for a
whopping $1.

The book, which dealt largely with "The Supremes",
touched on some of my favorite reading material when
it mentioned the story of Florence Ballard: riches to
rags. People say that they like "rags to riches" stories,
but I believe that they would rather read just the
opposite. I find these downfalls, collapses and sudden
(or gradual) drifts into obscurity just fascinating.

Therefore, it was no surprise when I turned my
attention from the obviously successfuly, obviously
bi-polar Diana to poor (literally) Flo Ballard and the
city that made and broke her. What I discovered was
nothing short of astonishing, sad and transfixing.

Who surives in this?

I've just returned from beautiful Portland and its
larger yet somehow-still-attractive sister of Seattle.
I've seen the beauty in San Diego sunsets and areas
of Atlanta that scream magnificent. But now Detroit
is on the brain.

Since we humans are drawn to train wrecks, I want
to someday go to Michigan's largest city and see
firsthand what happens when one million people leave
an area over a fifty-year period. I want to see what
made its new mayor (the one who didn't have phone
sex) order the destruction of over ten thousand
abandoned buildings within the city limits.

Take a good look at Detroit Urbex and understand
why historic preservation is about sooo much more
than who lived and died where. It's all about the
living--and their surroundings, too.

Ready for the road trip? Life insurance policy? Check.