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| the downtown halfway houses, ...and other things about Ypsi that led Sparkes to get this tattoo. At times the bus is a sort of rolling museum display case of human nature. At Arborland, a cheerful lady in a wheelchair got on. I pondered and admired the grit and determination necessary to push ice-cold, possibly wet handle-rims through inches of snow. As more and more bedraggled-looking, snow-covered people packed on, one frail young underdressed tween sort of hovered in the aisle, incongruously holding a blanket with mittenless hands. The husky young guy next to me gave up his comfy seat and wedged himself into the swaying strap-hangers in order to give the girl a seat. Ypsidixit loves to see such graceful chivalry. Ypsidixit is proud to say she's furnished an entire house, quite prettily, with recycled items that include: 1. curbside saves (aquarium, 2 bentwood rocking chairs, former TV table, and an incidental table and elegant dresser that I refinished) Ypsidixit wonders what trash-to-treasure you've found. She also said that the Carpenter Road Meijer's is putting in a biodiesel pump, which puts biodiesel technology within reach of every Ypsilantian. Additionally, Jane said that on this coldest of days, the soybean car instantly roared to life this morning, adding, "so much for unreliable diesels." Ypsidixit admires Jane for caring for the Earth to the tune of a major investment. Very cool. Incidentally, Vogelein graphic novels are available at the Cross Street bookshop, perched precariously on a huge pile of stuff in the front area. *and gave me permission to post this. Threatened by SCUDs, flying secret missions, and losing all navigational aids over the pitch-black ocean: one Kalitta pilot tells his story. 20,000 people came to the White House for the party [pictured]. They slogged mud all over fine imported carpets, they caused thousands of dollars of damage to glassware alone--and pretty much anything not nailed down disappeared. It got so crazy they had to put "washtubs of whiskey and orange juice" on the front lawn to lure people out of the house--Jackson himself escaped the crush through a window. Said to be safer than regular intersections, this type of roadway would be scary for bikers and peds trying to guess whether an oncoming car will turn into the lane they're trying to cross. Ypsidixit also thought the giant new Dixboro Rd. bridge was meant to ease the flood of cars pouring on and off US-23, but apparently there's plenty of money in county coffers for expensive car-friendly projects, as opposed to, say, pumping a bit of cash into AATA so that the Sunday buses don't stop running at 6 p.m. A roundabout is also planned for the intersection of Whittaker and Stony Creek Rd. Here you can see Mr. Wright, a Dexter farmer, heaving scrap onto the pile, with a WPA truck in the background. Ypsidixit wonders why such collections aren't ongoing nowadays. We all have so much stuff lying around--Ypsidixit has surplus clothes, bikes, lumber, and tools. Ypsidixit wonders why recycling was feasible then but not now. She further speculates that war-collectors knocking on doors might make the war seem more real to those without family or friends involved. EXCERPT FROM ABOVE LINK: "Richard Thompson, President and Chief Counsel of the Thomas More Law Center, commented Thursday, "This decision makes the theory of evolution the Sacred Cow of the public school system." [exaggeration]. "According to the decision, any criticism of Darwin's theory in a public school biology classroom endorses "religion" in violation of the federal constitution, and therefore must be prohibited. [correct]. "For the sake of good science education, this ruling must be appealed." [Why? Evolution is understood as the proper way of understanding our history. It is disingenuous to suggest that in the interest of students being exposed to other "theories" they be subject to such fallacious Christian constructs as "intelligent design."] On another site, Richard Thomspson says, "“This decision is bad law, bad for education, and ultimately bad for students who are purposely kept in the dark about the growing scientific controversy over the Theory of Evolution,” Thompson concluded." [This is disingenuous. There is no "growing controversy" about evolution.] The theory of gravity is also a "theory." Nobody really understands how gravity works and why things stick to the surface of the Earth. But you don't hear the radical-right Christians getting het up about gravity and proposing alternate "intelligent gravitational" theories about God pulling everything down towards the center of the earth. Seems to me they pick and choose among scientific "theories" so as to push through a Christian agenda. Ypsidixit is quite content to have a monkey for a grandpa, as it were. If we all come to understand that life is brief and ends absolutely after a handful of decades, we might treasure all the more our short time here, and take time to notice and care for its beauties more, and love all the better the dear ones in our lives. And the guy? He got "singed eyebrows." The roof was stopped from falling on him by a van and a freezer. Talk about a close shave. Story. The jail is so overcrowded that 600 prisoners, half of them felons, have been granted early release since 2003. Also, says Saline police chief Paul Bunten, outstanding warrants are not being pursued. "Fugitive apprehension efforts just aren’t done. There isn’t anywhere to put them." Adding to the problem is the changing nature of prisoners. In 1998, 43% of inmates were jailed for assault; in 2003, the number was 64%. In 2002, 57% of the inmates were charged with felonies; in 2004, 75%. We clearly have a problem. Although the jail was only recently expanded, the millage is sorely needed to expand it again. Ypsidixit is unsure if it'll pass. Outcounty voters might justifiably claim it's not their problem, and AA-Ypsi folk might not want this highly visible, centrally-located jail to mushroom into some gun-towered, razor-wired eyesore. The millage fails. And another abusive spouse gets early release, and walks off towards the home of his victim, to "give her what she deserves." The Saline Reporter story. EXCERPT: "Thousands of performers - marching bands, color guards, pompon dancers, hand bell-ringers, drill teams on horseback and Civil War re-enactors - will be bused early in the morning to the Pentagon parking lot across the Potomac in Virginia. While performers disembark and go through metal detectors, bomb-sniffing dogs will search the buses." "Then everybody will get back on the buses for a trip to the National Mall, where they will spend most of the day in heavily guarded warming tents. Participants have been warned that they will not be allowed to leave the tents except to go to portable toilets accompanied by a security escort." "Other instructions given performers include a warning not to look directly at Bush while passing the presidential reviewing stand, not to look to either side and not to make any sudden movements. "They want you to just look straight ahead," said Danielle Adam, co-director of the Mid American Pompon All Star Team from Michigan, which also performed in the 2001 inaugural parade." Why "fashion police"? Well, infatuated last summer with the recumbent in stock at BIT, Y. stopped by one day to take it on another test ride. I was wearing a shorty-short skirt, and Scott diplomatically pointed out the disadvantages of riding a 'bent in such garb. The shy and modest Y. turned beet-red, right there in the bike shop, as Scott regarded her, appraisingly. It was in fact a rather charming if not downright flirtatious moment. But I digress. At any rate, here's Scott's blog, ashtrayfloors. A scan of his profile reveals coolness in his admirable career aspiration and a liking for ole-timey music master Uncle Tupelo. Ypsidixit biked (carefully) to Jerusalem Garden for a kibbeh sandwich and back to work--thinking only that it was a beautiful, soft, foggy night, very lovely. Hope no one in the crash was hurt. "Major William S. Atwood. Died 8-3-1867. Committed suicide at grave of adopted daughter in Elmwood Cemetery, Detroit. He was stationed at Fort Gratiot at one time. Enlisted for Civil War. His wife donned male attire and followed him throughout the war without detection. After the war he opened a law office in Ypsilanti." I love the way they don't give his wife's name, just the possessive pronoun and the marital indicator. However, this brave and clever Ypsilanti woman did have a name, and I'm trying to find it. One little song? Seems like mightly slender grounds on which to outright fire someone. Ypsidixit thinks there's more to this story. "I have not had a good experience here. One thing that offended me the most was when what appeared to be a "crackhouse" of some sort moved into the next building this summer. There was a shooting in the parking lot as a result. There were residents and children outside at the time, but luckily no one was hurt. I guess what makes me so "sensitive" is that during this time, there were many clearly "middle class" folks driving up to that building in nice cars (ostensibly to buy drugs) and leaving quickly. These are the same sort of people (and I do NOT mean you or your friend) who can be heard around town making fun of "the Highlands", while greatly contributing to the problem. "There doesn't appear to be a "crackhouse" anymore, but there is an incredibly high incidence of crime here. It could be assumed that most of it is due to the residents themselves, but there are residents here who are just hard-working people who got a bad break in life. "The inside of many of the apartments look very nice, but the buildings are filthy, with the main doors unlocked, allowing all sorts of vagrants and others to enter to sleep, drink, and smoke drugs. It is not a pleasant or safe situation. I could go on and on, but believe me, any horror you could think of is going on here. "I grew up in Detroit, and this is one hundred times worse. "I didn't mention that I am in law school and such to brag, it is just that I have heard a lot of people (I don't mean you) say that the people who live here are losers, so who cares? When I tell these "educated types" that I am in law school they suddenly change their tune. It is unfortunate, but that is the way most people think. I feel like the many of the residents are a problem, but the landlord should take reasonable care, as I believe he is required to by law. "Currently there is a tenant's association, and most of the tenants (including myself) are now witholding rent until many of these issues have been resolved. I will be so glad when I am done with school and can move somewhere a lot better, but considering that there are so many people here who have very limited financial options, I think it is important they they are protected and not taken advantage of. I personally didn't have the sewage problem in my building, but it was very scary when the Building Inspectors gave us notices that we might have to be evacuated during that time. I really hope that justice is served for all of the decent residents here. Turns out you can hire Mann to research *your* home, and Ypsidixit is going to do just that, since she works five million hours a week and regrettably doesn't have time for archive-poking. Ypsidixit would love to know more about her 790-square-foot 1948 cottage. She's found shotgun shells and duck decoys piled on the overhead garage shelf. There's a plank used as makeshift flooring in the attic that was part of a crate from an army base in Texas. Neighbors say that the house used to be lurid green with apricot awnings. Lovely. Ypsidixit has also learned that this house used to be occupied by an eccentric old crab on the prickly side without much use for people. How times have changed. Ypsidixit would love to know what secrets you've uncovered about the history of your home. Sometimes Ypsidixit just feels like screaming. Napalm-in-Fallujah stories here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. How awful. Ypsidixit has long felt that Whittaker Road is one of the most dangerous roads in the Township. People drive insanely fast, there's that confusing lane-merge just south of 94, and for the volume of traffic it has [exacerbated by recent housing developments], it should be a four-lane, not a two-lane. Ypsidixit was sad to hear this news and hopes they catch the cowardly driver. Work was fun as usual--Ypsidisit carefully counts her blessings--and Ypsidixit left around suppertime. Once home, she threw a defrosted turkey in the oven after coating it with sage and rosemary, and the bird is filling the house with the most savory smell imaginable, as the dog eats a piece of paper on the couch (her favorite snack, for unknown reasons). Ypsidixit is thankful to be cozy with 12 pounds of food in the oven and no worries. "Subject: Is there an Ypsi bloggers group? Ypsidixit doesn't know of any such group. The last time she had the pleasure of meeting other local bloggers was at a debate-watching gathering at Frenchie's. Ypsidixit, who eschews all branded clothing, avoids bigname brands in general, and who views the cult of brand-seeking as a misguided attempt to create modern-day meaning-giving totems in a sterile postmodern life too divorced from the land, wonders what this logo is meant to accomplish. Downtown AA is a bunch of shops and restaurants, with some nice 19th-century architecture. Ypsidixit likes shopping in certain AA shops, such as Acme Mercantile, which has offbeat items that make nice presents. But what's the point of creating a brand for downtown AA? It's just a bunch of merchants. Can one capture the essence of a passel of mostly overpriced shops in a punchy logo? Then what? Guess I don't understand this drive to brand at all. This portable hard drive, the size of a small cigarette lighter, plugs into a USB port (both Mac and PC versions available). It can store hundreds of documents. Ypsidixit's acquaintance was using it to take home several hundred grant applications that she needed to look at for a project. Jump drives retail for around $30 up, depending on storage capacity. Ypsidixit's acquaintance got one for $19 on sale. One major trend of Ypsidixit's life so far is the secretion of ever vaster universes of data on ever smaller silicon grains of rice. Pretty soon we'll have infinity stored in a quark. EXCERPT: "[nature writing,] a literary form that, for all its wonder and beauty, can be a little like going to Sunday School. A strange Sunday School where I alternate between sitting in the pews (reading nature) and standing at the pulpit (writing nature). And not only do I preach from my pulpit, I preach to the converted. After all, who reads nature books? Fellow nature lovers who already believe that the land shouldn't be destroyed. Too often when I flip through the pages of contemporary nature books the tone is awed, hushed, reverential. The same things that drove me away from Sunday School. And the same thing that drove me, unable to resist my own buffoonery, to fart loudly against the pews." JER PARTNERS AND PLATO FOUFAS & CO., LLC, ACQUIRE LAKE IN THE WOODS APARTMENT COMMUNITY IN YPSILANTI, MICHIGAN YPSILANTI, MI — On December 27, 2004, JER Partners and Plato Foufas & Co., LLC purchased Lake in the Woods Apartments, a 1,028-unit gated community located on 975-acre Ford Lake in Ypsilanti, Michigan, a rapidly growing suburb of Ann Arbor, approximately 20 minutes west of the Detroit Metro Wayne County Airport." Now, when a fellow Ypsilantian work colleague alerted me to this, she noted, "So the people who were priced out of the Ann Arbor housing market have suddenly found Ypsilanti...[voice dripping with sarcasm]...tolerable." Ypsidixit notes for the record that our French tradin' post was going strong DECADES before Ann Arbor was a twinkle in John Allen and Elisha Rumsey's eye. Remainder of press release in "comments." Moby Dick is said to be the greatest novel never read, but--hasn't any reviewer read this magnificent American classic? YPSILANTI PIONEER'S DISLOCATED SHOULDER LEADS TO DEATH, according to 19th-century Ypsilanti blogger Catherine Haviland: Even a slight injury could prove fatal, in early Ypsilanti. "1884 Friday August 1st - Mr Haviland started to the east field to see where Roger M was laying a fence between Robert Cummin and himself. he was crossing a wet place on a fallen tree, when he sliped and plunged in the water, all over his head. he made his way home...saying I have met with a terrible accident, I washed him all over dressed him gave him some stimulant, he lay down a little while, then got up he said his hand was paralised." "1884 Sunday August 10th - Dr Knapp and Ruggles came, Knapp did not look at it two minutes, when he said it was dislocated, he undertook to set it, with Mr Haviland sitting on a Chair, but said I have not strength enough...Ruggles & Roger M heard it snap, as soon as they said that I came to them, I had been walking the floor, for anything that hurt my poor husband hurt me...it commenced to be painful right away, wee supposed it was what would be called knitting, Ruggles called once said it was doeing well." "1884 Sept 15th - Dr Knapp was sick on the bed, with sick headache I wished him to look at his shoulder, he done so, and said it was dislocated again, he said if wee would stay til the next day he would set it again...the Dr said it was a botched job...I took his Shirts off, saw him, seated on the Surgeons chair, kissed him and went out, walked up and down the streets of Fenton praying to God. I came to the door in a few minutes raped, walked back to the corner, when Bernard called to me, I went in to the Drs office there lay my poor husband like a corpse but soon returned to concionsness and felt sadly dissipointed when Dr Knapp said it was not set nor he could not doe it." "1884 Sept 24th - Roger Haviland is dead. He died at St Marys hospital Detroit where he went for treatment of a dislocated shoulder, he was held under treatment til he was struck with death." This capsule history of the hospital, written by hospital staff, includes two historical overviews, one written in 1956 and one in 1981. Both works are models of bland, resolutely upbeat institutional whitewashes of what was a grim, city-sized haven of desperation and sadness. Ypsidixit's ability to read between the lines was taxed to its utmost with this cheery, matter-of-fact work. But I did find a few hints that life here was not all butter and roses. In the 1930s, shortly after the hospital's founding in 1930, "patient treatment was centered primarily about the maintenance of the institution itself." Translation: sick patients received absolutely no treatment for their disorders, but were captive slaves used to paint, clean, and farm the place (it once had a huge farm that provided most of the food needed by the hospital). In 1956, "electro-stimulation [electro-shock] treatments are but a handful compared to many hundred in previous years." In 1956, "ground permission patients, of course, may use the facilities of the Store at any time. Patients who do not have this privilege but are physically able to go, are taken to the Store twice weekly, where they may spend their money as they desire. It is felt that it is very therapeutic for the patient to be permitted to select his own merchandise as he or she could do if living in the community." This struck Ypsidixit as very sad. In the 1950s, "electro-shock therapy was by far the primary form of treatment utilized. In 1950, 1037 patients received 4,767 convulsive seizure treatments [that's an average of 4.5 shocks per person--guess it took a while to dull some people down]. "During that year,...17 lobotomies took place at the Hospital." In 1960, "commitment to a mental hospital was relatively easy to obtain. A petition for commitment as a mentally ill person was made by an individual recognized by a judge as being the most interested person, usually a relative. The petition was then supported by an affidavit or certificate of two practitioners of medicine." Yikes. That's a tad too perfunctory for Ypsidixit's tastes, given the past and to some degree present repressive attitudes towards uppity females. In the mid-60s, "chemotherapy was used extensively [to treat TB and syphilis]. "Eighty per cent of the patients were on tranquilizers." In the mid-1960s, "convulsive therapy included Indoklon Inhalation and electro-convulsive treatments. [In three years,] 1,533 convulsive treatments were given..." The result? One former nurse at the hospital remembers what she calls the "end-of-the-line ward" as "somber and oppressed...The sadness of many of those old folks and their pitiful existence often brings a tear when I reminisce." "...I have not been posting much lately (here or at my own blog) because I am on the Caribbean island of Nevis until Thursday and do not have easy computer access. It is a very beautiful and warm place and I almost hate to have to come back to the Frozen Tundra of Michigan, but that is where my job is so I will be back Thursday." Ypsidixit is tickled to think that down there in the flowery, beautiful islands, one little computer screen glowed dark green. Wow, Nevis is beautiful. Pictured: Oualie Bay. "Jack and the Bean-Stalk" (annotated version here) has always struck Ypsidixit as one of the more inexplicable fairy tales. Would you like to read a strange 1807 version, an original copy of which was scanned and put online? [illustration at right]. This is the first time the tale appears in print. Note Jack's laziness and even cruelty to his mother, instead of the more familiar plain old doltishness. Note also the weird fairy, whose contrived story provides moral exoneration for Jack's actions. Ypsidixit has the feeling some prissy old 18th-century do-gooder inelegantly rammed in the fairy bits, just so the wee ones wouldn't be corrupted. Browse other annotated fairy tales [scroll down a bit] such as Bluebeard (shudder). Called the Laddermolen (Laddermill, or, ladder of windmills), the kites "could be used to generate clean energy at a cost comparable with that of polluting power stations, researchers claim. "The Laddermill would only be flown where aircraft are banned. One such area is the zone along the US-Mexican border, where high-flying balloons fitted with radar are used to combat drug traffickers." Sounds promising, given that the winds up there are much more powerful than down here at sea level. Ypsidixit hopes that in her lifetime such visionary schemes come to fruition and provide a clean source of power. This year is no exception. Prim would-be censors object with attempted wit to the term "blog" ("Sounds like a Viking’s drink that’s better than grog, or a technique to kill a frog" lampoons one modern-day Wilde), "erectile dysfunction" ("Too much information!” opines one presumably chastity-belted submittor), and what's called "izzle speak" in rap/hiphop (“It was clever for about five minutes, or should I say five ‘minizzles?" grouses one Michigan Lawrence Welk fan who never wasted a goddam dime on that [unintelligible curse] Eminem movie. Ypsidixit chuckles indulgently to see such inept, homebrew attempts at hip. However, she blanches to think any old person can access this list and form an opinion of Michigan as a state where the cold has tightly puckered the citizens' collective nether hole and reduced major areas of brain tissue to Jello. The Scotsman asks, "Why not also swot up on your haggis lore with our extensive Haggisclopedia?" Why not, indeed? Swot up, kind readers.
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ANDREW "TRAIL OF TEARS" JACKSON'S WILD INAUGURAL PARTY scandalized the Washington elite. The first President who wasn't an Eastern aristocrat, Jackson played up his rugged frontiersman image before the election--in reality, he was a rich slaveholder. 
FORMER WEMU DJ THAYRONE, canned in 2003 for refusing to air NPR news and for too much pro-Iraq War talk, 
GARDEN OF EDEN: In 1907, 64-year-old Lucas, Kansas resident S. P. Dinsmoor took 2,273 sacks of cement and tons of limestone to make his 
LADIES! You've all heard of mail-order brides. In the West's storied past, many women signed up and took their chances. Initial correspondence led to many lasting marriages. Well, in all fairness, now it's our turn. Visit 
TELL ME IF I'M TOO FAR OUT on this one, but after scanning a bunch of reviews for the movie "The Life Aquatic," half-thinking of going to go see it, I got the vague impression that this movie is loosely based on Moby Dick. Now, I haven't seen this mentioned in any review, but it seems to some degree obvious to me. My question is--WHY haven't I seen this idea at least floated in some review somewhere? Even one? Somewhere? 
BOOKS READ: "Ypsilanti Psychiatric Regional Hospital, 1931-1981."
KIND READER VINCE says hello from the Caribbean!
FAIRY TALES are among our oldest stories, and they seethe with mystery and cultural memes disguised as weird symbols. They mutate as they hop from culture to culture (
DUTCH EX-ASTRONAUT WUBBO OCKELS has dreamed up a plan to harvest wind energy with a 5-mile-high rotating belt of kites.
HAGGIS HUNTERS: Track down that elusive and repulsive Scottish tidbit 