I thought these things were temporary and would go away after the Ann Arbor Art Fairs.  A week later, I see they’re still here.  And a little research confirms that they’re here to stay.

The Ann Arbor News asks “Is it art or a bike rack?”  The answer, judging by the rest of their article and its comments, is: neither.  It’s not a bike rack, yet, because cyclists are still confused about whether or not they’re supposed to use the small, decorative installations as such.  And it’s not art because, well…because one hates to call things that are this ugly “art”.  And because things that have to call themselves “art” usually aren’t.

But wait.  The DDA’s page says that local artist Mary Thiefels “volunteered to design” the bike hoops, whose design is supposed “to commemorate the importance of art in the downtown”.  But as one commenter on the News article points out, the design is an exact copy of the Ann Arbor Art Center’s logo.  That makes these bike hoops not art, but - advertising.  For a good case, but - advertising nonetheless.  One wonders where the sign-up sheet was for volunteering to “design” this?  And did the Art Center pay anything to have their logo installed so permanently all around town?

Forget about the sketchiness about the process of these bike hoops’ creation.   What really bothers me about these things is how they remind me of the young “creatives” I know who have moved away because there are no jobs here or because Ann Arbor is too expensive and  has no affordable space downtown for artists to use or reimagine.  Yet our town gives itself this big, public, whimsically-colored pat-on-the-back for being so arts-friendly.

A Tale of Two Cities

One place many of the artists priced out of Ann Arbor have gone to is Ypsilanti.  A city whose DDA also recently installed bike hoops downtown.  What do those bike hoops look like?

As I understand it, local screenprinter VGKids was involved, and the design of these was adapted from the design of existing downtown root guards:

These bike hoops don’t have to have the word ‘Art’ written on them.  They are obviously beautiful, functional objects.  They fit in with (the history of) their surroundings.  Maybe Ann Arbor could learn something from what’s going on in Ypsi.

Bikeracks vs Cancer

The beginning of this post alluded to the last comment on the Ann Abor News post.   After a flurry of comments soon after the story was published, one commenter, ‘greendrink’, effectively ended all discussion (no more comments followed) by saying this:

sad to read all the negative energy going into BIKERACKS when there are so many more important things in life to care about! WAR, unempolyment, cancer,ect…come on people, really!

This kind of vacuous cliche is often used to stop discussion.  The sad thing is that it actually succeeded in making people feel guilty about having a passionate discussion about something they care about.  As if everyone is going to go and redirect their “energy” into curing cancer as soon as they stop worrying about bikeracks.  War, unemployment, and cancer are problems so huge that the average person is overwhelmed when tasked with actually doing something themselves to combat them.  And any suggestion ‘greendrink’ or anyone else might have about what “more important” thing people ’should’ be doing is likely to be something that would take an inordinate amount of their ‘energy’ to do.  People shouldn’t be discouraged from naturally, effortlessly caring about things that may seem insignificant.  To wave three Big Scary Social Issues at people who are engaged in publicly caring about something is completely counterproductive and actually leads to the kind of apathy on which those bigger problems depend.   Small cares, on the other hand, lead into big cares.  So many people who are deeply involved in some Big Social Issue got started because they were pissed off about something small and personal.  And it could be argued that war, unemployment, and even cancer are all just massive accumulations of seemingly insignificant things that went overlooked.

[This post is dedicated to my cousin Julie, who has been using her current battle with cancer to reflect on seemingly insignificant things and write incredibly honest and brave blog posts about them.]

amazing garage sale on Saturday - m4w - 99 (white st. at Stadium)

I was talking to you at the garage sale on saturday as you were making off with the Walkboard. We both liked the idea of your cousin (?) working it on his hands! You were really cute, especially as we discussed the Peanuts comic poster about loving it when friends sleep over… anyway, I’d love to run into you again sometime, perhaps over a beer? Drop a line…

We were quite pleased to read the missed connection, and hope that these people get together, because anyone who responded to our garage sale signs is a person worth dating. And, if you are reading this, Walkboard lady, Tim kinda wants it back.

lots of weird stuff to sell! come and get it!

here’s the craigslist post: http://annarbor.craigslist.org/gms/1204216383.html

map: http://bit.ly/jb9WO

On the way home from work, we stopped at the co-op to pick up some fixings.  While we were there, Andrea realized  she’d forgotten her new kombucha mushroom at work.  Kombucha is a slimy pancake-looking thing made up of a symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast that you use to ferment tea.  (Read all about it here.)  There is a window when you have to start the kombucha fermenting before the thing dies, so now added to the mix of our romantic evening was the project of brewing a batch of fermented tea (and researching how).

So we picked up the shroom, and when we got home Andrea started making dinner and I nervously worked on the kombucha project.  I had just moved all of our food prep tools and supplies into their new cupboard locations earlier that day, so Andrea had to keep asking me where things were.  And she was trying desperately to get things right using a brand new oven and cooktop for the first time, while I kept getting in her way trying to make a drink I don’t even like with what looked like a slimy live pancake in a jar of formaldehyde. Things got a little tense.

When dinner preparations were almost done, I set myself up at the sink and called over to Andrea, “Hey, could you come over here and stick your hand down the garbage disposal?  I think something’s stuck.”  She replied with a disgusted tone - “Um, no.”  “Come on,” I implored, “your hands fit easier than mine.”  Eventually she acquiesced.  “It’s not on, is it?” she asked.  “No, I answered, kneeling down to unplug it from underneath the sink.  She stuck her hand down and felt what I’d put in a few minutes earlier when she wasn’t looking.  “Um, yeah, there’s something in here,” she said.  Her hand emerged clutching a fancy little felt ring box.  She turned it over in her hands and asked, “What is this?”   I said nothing and just looked up, waiting for her to notice that I was still down on one knee.  When it finally registered, she started crying.  She opened the box and I read her a poem I’d written for the occasion.  To sweeten the deal, I brought out from the cupboard a chocolate cake (her favorite) that I’d bought earlier that day. With all the crying and hugging and my whole speech, the whole thing lasted about fifteen minutes. By that time, dinner had gotten cold and needed reheating.

But she said yes.

skating-the-drainage-ditch.mov

826 Michigan, an “nonprofit writing and tutoring center offering free literacy programs to over 1500 kids each year,” is hosting a scrabble contest at Conor O’Neils on September 28th [UPDATE: Possible reschedule to Nov. 23rd!] from noon-8pm. Team raise money to “unlock” cheats that they can use to beat other teams.

You can donate to the Two Fell Swoops to help us triumph by clicking here Then, you can come see us & cheer for us, dressed like a team, on Sept 28th!

We know times are tough, but if you have some pennies to spare to help the Swoops prevail and help kids write, please chip in! We promise we will represent our readers well. See all the cheats below:

$25: Trade out a letter
$50: Wheel of Fortune: buy a vowel
$100: Flip a letter over and make it blank
$150: Add 10 points to any letter to increase its value
$200: Add Q, Z, or X to any word
$250: Passport:play a word in any non-English language
$300: Consult the dictionary for one turn
$400: Reject an opponent’s word for no reason
$500: Invent a word (must have definition)
*****A secret $5 cheat will be announced on tournament day.*****

Or, if you are feeling competitive, you should enter, so we can laugh at you (as per the rules of the event), and beat you. Don’t test us. We’re good at scrabble, and we’re also good at cheating at scrabble (seriously, ask our friends.)

This message was brought to you by Tim leaving the house with the words “I can’t believe I’m responding to the last 20 minutes by going to get you ice cream.”

Sorry for the blurriness of my phone’s camera with the low light.  If you can’t read it, I’ll tell you it’s one of a few mock advertisements that some kids were allowed to put on the wall behind the voting kiosks at the Ann Arbor Community Center.  The kid who is imploring us to vote for him in this ad is named Darius.  Here are some highlights:

• he (Darius) will build security robots and hi-tech security lasers
• his two vice presidents well (sic) help you with the law
• we will help bring alien civilization to earth
• he will lower everything that is expensive
• good stuff well (sic) be
• if you vote for Darius all your dream will come true

On the left is something about school being fun, but I can’t make it out, and I left without reading everything, trusting that my phone had captured it.  Did anyone else see the poster?  Or can anyone figure it out from the picture?

Notice also the boringly familiar campaign promises about global warming and gas prices mixed in with Darius’s promises about alien civilization.  Interesting too that some of his more outlandish promises map pretty neatly onto the promises of the more well-known Presidential candidates.  I leave you to figure out what it all means.

And special thanks to the guy in front of me in line for noticing the poster.  We joked that Darius might just receive three write-in votes from he, his companion, and I.  And by “joked” I mean - seriously considered….

The first thing we noticed was the name on the signage out front: “Seajoy’s”.  We thought maybe it was going to be a seafood restaurant.  But from what we could see, they hadn’t yet changed any of the interior sub-continental décor.

A week later, Andrea report seeing the following four items listed under the name on the signage, each with a corresponding sign-size picture, in this order:

1. Coffee
2. Fudge
3. Tasty Dosas
4. Juicy Burgers

Now we were puzzled.  I wondered if Andrea had seen the sign right.  What kind of restaurant offers those four things?  And what kind of Indian restaurant, if that’s what it was to remain, offers – or advertises that they offer – “juicy burgers”?!  Despite our puzzlement, we resolved to go there once they opened and order exactly those four items.

But when we finally got around to going, the sign out front had the following four items listed and pictured in the same prominent place out front:

1. Wraps
2. Lassi
3. Tasty Dosas
4. Biryani

It was an Indian restaurant after all.  (The name comes from owner Shijoy’s name.) They did indeed serve dosas; my “Seajoy’s Special” dosa was excellent.  But juicy burgers and fudge were nowhere to be found on the menu.  So before we left, I asked our waitress.

It turns out Seajoy’s was originally planned as a different kind of restaurant, one that served Indian as well as American and other dishes.  Hence the confusing signage, which actually did exist for a few days before they decided to go all-Indian and changed it.  And go all-Indian they did; Seajoy’s has a good variety of Indian dishes - North, South, Indo-Chinese, you name it.  Everything we’ve tried the handful of times we’ve gone has been good, and our friend visiting from India (who got to fulfill his lifelong dream of eating a cheese dosa) was impressed by the variety.

What I like best is the mom-and-pop feel of the place.  Shijoy and his crew can be seen bustling around the restaurant trying to keep people happy and get the business to stick where none do.  One time I overheard one of them say to another as they hurried off in opposite directions: “”Focus.”  That makes me want the place to succeed.  That and the really good food.

But I’m sad we didn’t get to order coffee, fudge, tasty dosas, and juicy burgers.  And I’m sorry for doubting you, Andrea.