A Scary Night in Southfield

I’ve seen my share of bad weather. A strong summer storm rolls in: thick black clouds obscure the sun. Flashes of lighting illuminate the sky. Thunder booms overhead. I’ve seen it.

At least I thought I’d seen it. Last Friday night, a strong line of thunderstorms moved in, and people, I have never seen weather like this. The sky turned GREEN. The clouds hung low and spun in concentric circles. At any moment I thought a tornado would drop on our heads.

It was another late night at work and we gathered under the flimsy metal overhang in the parking lot and watched lightning bolt after lightning bolt scorch the sky. While the thunder and lighting put on a good show, it was the clouds that were truly terrifying. I really thought a tornado was going to drop right in the parking lot. The clouds were low in the sky. They spun and dipped lower and lower. I’ve been through my share of hurricanes, nor’easters and other downright miserable weather scenarios including a 9 hour trek through a snow squall in the Poconos, but I’ve never been scared before. According to forecasters, the strongest tornado in a decade touched down in Southeastern Michigan Friday night. I’m just glad it didn’t land in our parking lot.

If You’re Boozing and Cruising Then You’re Losing

That’s what the electronic sign hoisted over the Woodward Avenue interchange on Interstate 696 flashed all last week. Normally the sign reads “Buckle up! It’s the Law” or “Delays though Southfield Road” but not on the third week in August. For everyone in the area knows that the third weekend in August is reserved for one thing, and one thing only: The Woodward Avenue Dream Cruise.

For all the non-Michiganders out there, Woodward Avenue is to Metro Detroit what Broadway is to NY. It stretches all the way from Downtown Detroit, through several miles of sheer scariness and emerges into the suburbs. It’s a wide boulevard, four lanes on each side, and if you’re turning left, you’re going to do it Michigan style.

Throughout the early summer, nascent signs of the Dream Cruise pop up on Woodward. In between the Jeep Cherokees and Ford trucks you’ll notice a purple hot rod with flames painted on the side. Perhaps the next week you’ll spot a Ford Fairlane. In the week preceding the Dream Cruise I actually followed a Model T Ford down Main Street, Royal Oak.

But nothing could prepare me for what the Dream Cruise beheld. I avoided the Cruise last year. I was too new to the city and felt I was entirely unprepared for that kind of face to face gear-head interaction. This year it was time.

The closest point to Woodward Avenue is roughly 2 miles from my house. I couldn't drive there because I had to pre-order a parking spot. (I’ll let you contemplate the irony of paying for a parking spot so you can watch people drive down a street you drive down everyday.) I packed up some water for me and the dog and we set out. The weather was cool and slightly overcast so it was the perfect day for walking.

We arrived on Woodward Avenue less than 2 hours later. We were confronted with a carnival like atmosphere. Tents filled with people lined the street. Souped up hot rods idled on the grass. Every block held a different band playing a different type of music. And the food was everywhere. It was… it was….

Ok, I can’t do this. I can’t spin my positive Michigan bull and declare the Dream Cruise was a new and exciting experience that I will treasure for years to come. Why? Because it wasn't. By the time Buddy and I strolled onto Woodward it was body to body people. All that food? Well it was hot dogs and ice cream. The bands – there was a different band on every block all right, but you couldn't hear the music because it all jumbled together to form an unintelligible song. The Cruise, the main attraction, is essentially cars driving really slow up Woodward. That’s it. Yeah, some of those cars are impressive, but some of those cars are mid-eighties IROCs. And the sidewalks are filled with people just STARING at the cars from the seats of their identical Home Depot purchased foldable lawn chairs.

We lasted ten minutes. It was right around the time my dog jumped on a 12 year old boy to snag his ice cream cone, I realized it was time to get the hell out of there. We hung a right and started walking home. The 2 miles stretched like an eternity. Walking in Michigan isn't like walking in NY. There’s no shopping to distract you nor is there an easy escape route. You can’t turn the corner and catch a train, bus or taxi. If you walked 2 miles west, you’re walking back 2 miles east.

We walked and walked and finally arrived home. I looked over at my pup, hoping the afternoon’s Dream Cruise odyssey had wiped him out. His tail wagged playfully from side to side, doggie grin planted firmly on face. My hopes for a quiet night complete with a happy dog asleep at my feet were dashed. The Dream Cruise not only failed to excite me, but it also failed to exhaust my dog. A total failure through and through. Although… had my dog managed to wrestle away that little boy’s ice cream cone, the walk back could have been salvaged.

just kidding...