Dateline, Detroit, and the Day of Saint Jordi

I have to admit, I was worried when I saw Chris Hansen filming at Rivard Plaza the other night. Security had most of the plaza blocked off. I thought I was being paranoid when the first thing that popped into my mind was "Uh oh, he's trying to make sure it looks empty behind him." Then I put my dishonest rose-colored glasses that jdg thinks are stupid back on and thought, "Oh well, I don't have a TV anyway.  I'm sure DetroitYES will fill me in. He probably just doesn't want morons yelling Go Blue, or Go Green, or Go Wings in the background."

Would it be mean of me to take an Anchorman Ken doll shot? I'm in a mean mood after reading the comments about the Dateline story in various places. Apparently it was the usual blah blah blah train station blah blah blah urban prairie blah blah blah don't let your babies hang out in Detroit rehash. Apparently he missed the all-day media gathering on telling Detroit's story, and he definitely didn't do the reading assignment. (The Sugrue book, of course.)

So here's what else was happening on the Riverwalk on a beautiful sunny evening (with my parchuted media glasses):

Be careful, the kid on the bike might be selling drugs.

Innocent fishermen? I think not...more likely trying to smuggle fresh produce in from the chain groceries of Windsor.

A hardworking citizen being taken for a ride by our corrupt Riverfront Conservancy....

who hired such lousy urban park planners and landscapers... they must be in cahoots with the Campus Martius people.

And the circus continues....

as the sun sets on another stereotypical picture of Detroit.

Oh, and the Saint Jordi thing.... well, I had a very poem and bookish weekend, which was what I was going to write about originally. Saturday, I scored at the Detroit Public Library's used book sale. In spite of what you might hear on TV, some people here do know how to read, and the sale was packed, even at the end of the second day.

Sunday's book event was "La Diada de Sant Jordi", the Day of Books and Roses at the Ferndale Public Library. A tradition from Catalunya, Spain brought here, it is a day of celebration of books and roses, and of spring. (And in a thing that made me go, hmmm...Jordi from Cafe Con Leche was providing his wonderful coffee at the event.)

April is National Poetry Month, and today at 3:30 poetry lovers in many cities were asked to be guerilla poets by reading to someone, anyone, strangers on the street even, for 10 minutes. I didn't read for that long, but here is what I read:

Caminante, son tus huellas el camino, y nada màs,

caminante no hay camino, se hace camino al andar.

Al andar se hace camino, y al volver la vista atràs

se ve la senda que nunca se ha de volver a pisar.

Caminante no hay camino, sino estelas en la mar

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road and nothing more;

wanderer there is no road, the road is made by walking.

By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind

one sees the path that will never be trod again.

Wanderer, there is no road,

only wakes upon the sea

...from the Spanish poet Antonio Machado

Thanks to Lala at My Castle In Spain. I saw this poem there recently.