Review: Detroit: An American Autopsy by Charlie LeDuff

Simply cannot recommend enough Detroit: An American Autopsy by Charlie LeDuff. A former NYT reporter returns to DET as a native son.

If you want to understand everything that has happened in recent years in America, Detroit is your learning lab. The ramifications of corporate greed on the middle class and abject poverty? Look at Detroit. The unintentional handover of power, from politicians who are too concerned with padding their own pockets, to the gangs that eventually rule the streets.

LeDuff's writing is at times absolutely perfect. I've been studying journalism for a fair bit and I cannot even fathom his methods. This book has easily cracked my top 10 if not my top 5.

I have visited Detroit a number of times and love catching lunch at Mugsie's in Corktown, or visiting the Science museum. There are pockets of wonderful things happening and LeDuff does not manage to highlight these as well as he could. Still, there is courage and truth mined from the stories he shares on his journalistic beat. I couldn't get enough.

I would lend you my copy but of course I bought it for Loverpants only to abscond with it :)

Build-a-Birthday Memory

We did something we've never done before for Baby Girl's Birthday. We gave her present away. We share this not to spotlight our good deeds. We share because we didn't know before talking with some awesome folks at T.C. Thompson Hospital that something like this was possible.

If you have ever felt stuck between a rock and your child wanting desperately for ONE MORE stuffed animal to populate your already overpopulated stuffed animal capital, we share the following experience with you.

Music by The Otto Brothers

SIX

Dear Daughter, who turns six today, Always take the long view.

Step back. See the big picture. Be circumspect. Dream big about your future, because, Baby Girl, it's going to be a bright one. Don't become so entangled in the things that demand your attention right.this.minute. You can miss all the beauty of the horizon; you can ignore a skywriter writing your name across a big blue canvas.

Take the long view because it's the hard view to take. If, in the middle of a New England February six years ago, when every orifice of my body was leaking from bringing forth this beautiful baby girl into the world, someone had told me to squint my eyes and think how small this moment was on the trajectory of child-rearing, I would have handed that person my soaked-through pajamas and cackled like a mad woman. At the time, it all felt so heavy and magnified. But that moment is so far from me now. Now you and I go to paint-your-own-pottery on a Saturday night and have big chats about what color to paint our coffee mugs.

***

Baby Girl,

Always take the short view.

Step closer. Examine the paint strokes. Stand in awe of the footnotes of creation. Hold a tiny caterpillar in your hands. Hold captive the attention of an otherwise distracted millennial. Don't be so intimidated by playing the long game. You are only this close to the ground for a short time. Enjoy proximity to the roses; be a part of the the small daily miracles of tying shoelaces and climbing trees.

Take the short view because it's the hard view to take. If, while examining your dimpled knuckles and smelling your intoxicating baby smell, someone told me that someday this same child would school me in dinosaur species and multiplication tables at the age of five, I would have wept. Those moments are a part of our days right now and my thankfulness for your strength of mind, character, and body is beyond words.

Today you are six. Daddy reminded me that your lap around the sun is not officially complete until much later tonight. We are holding the sand grains of time cupped gingerly in our hands, but we stand powerless to let them escape and catch flight. What impossible profundity is this gift of life where we stand frozen in this sacred moment, while holding eternity in our hearts. You enrich it all, the long view, the short view, six-times-six-times-six-fold.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.

Love, Mama