I only know what I read in the newspapers. As it happens, I usually read my morning paper over a cup of coffee at Starbucks across the street from my office. I’d like to tell you about an encounter I had there several months ago that ended up changing my life.
I was peacefully reading my Free Press this morning. The news of the day was not good: American troops in Iraq and Afghanistan; dire predictions about the escalating cost of the war; and long lines at the Ambassador Bridge and the Tunnel connecting Windsor with Detroit. Evidently, because of heightened security, customs officials were being extra careful about people and things coming from Canada into the United States. The lines of trucks and cars are sometimes quite long, involving hours of waiting and costing American business time and money.
While I was quietly reading, a middle-aged, somewhat overweight gentleman sitting at the next table leaned over and in a gruff voice said: “You know who’s responsible don’t you?”
“Responsible for what?” I said.
“Responsible for the long lines at the Bridge and Tunnel, what do you think!”
Well, I didn’t want to appear out of touch, so I said: “U.S. Customs.” This guy looked at me with distain and shook his head. So I said: “Homeland security”.
“Nope” he said, “you aint even warm.”
“Osama bin Laden?” I said with some frustration.
“No! George Washington’s responsible!”
Well, there are times you find yourself in conversations that you’re sure are not headed anywhere useful, and this was one. But being somewhat impetuous, just for the heck of it, I asked: “OK, why is George Washington responsible for the long lines at Detroit’s Bridge and Tunnel?”
“Well, when ol Gen’l George defeated them Redcoats in the Revolutionary War, he allowed ‘em to slip back up in ta Canada. He didn’t hot-pusue’em and finish’em off when he had the chance. ‘Ol George wimped out before finishing the job! Now we got this mess of Redcoats on our northern flank, and every so often they break out and come down ‘ere an’ burn down our White House!”
Well, I was pretty sure that that hadn’t happened in a while, and besides, I said, “What’s that got to do with the long lines at the Bridge and Tunnel?”
This guy squinted at me, scrunched over closer like he was going to let me in on the secret of the universe and whispered: “Them redcoats swindled us out of South Detroit an’ we’re gonna to get it back! Them poor folks over there have been terrorized long enough.”
Now this new revelation raised a number of questions in my mind… chief of which was how can I get rid of this guy. “First of all” I said, “there IS no South Detroit. There’s an East Detroit, there’s a Westland, there’s a Down River, but no South Detroit! And even if there were, what makes you think its people are being terrorized?”
He sneered and said “have you ever looked at a map o’ Detroit?”
I said “sure, lots of times.”
“Well what’s that big town directly across the river from Detroit’s City Hall?”
“Hmm… Windsor,” I said.
“Hah! That what the Redcoats call it! Me and my buddies know it by its true name: ‘South Detroit’! Many of the folks who live there, leave their homes everyday to work in the Detroit. They acquire such necessities as beer, gasoline, and tobacco in Detroit and smuggle ‘em back to their starving kids each evening. It’s heartbreaking to realize that for over 200 years, the good people of South Detroit have had to endure this oppression. How much longer can we allow them to live under the yoke of the British tyranny? How much longer must they wait to be free?”
I was skeptical. I knew that the Windsor Tunnel and Ambassador Bridge weren’t 200 years old and had this idea that in the war on terror, the British are actually on our side. I’d heard enough. I went back to my newspaper, hoping this guy would take the hint and disappear.
But he persisted, “Don’t you want to know how we’re goin’a do it?”
Before I could stop myself, I said “Do what?”
“Take back South Detroit…what’d think? We got the freedom fighters all lined up.”
At this point it occurred to me that perhaps it was my civic duty to hear more. If not Homeland Security, then there might be some mental health officials out looking for this guy.
“Well I suppose you’re going to write to your Congressman to negotiate the return of Windsor…er South Detroit to the U.S.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you crazy? Congress‘s had 200 years to do som’in about this injustice and it ain’t done noth’in! It’s worthless!”
Well, I knew that wasn’t true! Indignantly I informed him: “We have the best darn Congress that money can buy. Just ask a any lobbyist!”
“No” he said, “Even if Congress tried, we’d prob’ly just get stuck with some worthless property up on Lake Superior in exchange for South Detroit. Me and 300 Michigan patriots are gonna do the job ourselves.”
“We got it all figger’d out. We’ll liberate South Detroit with our Expeditionary Force. We’re gonna disguise ourselves as Walleye fishermen, rent boats on Belle Isle, and attack the South Detroit waterfront. You wouldn’t believe it,” he said. “Our reconnaissance tells us that the redcoats left their entire waterfront wide open to attack! Yes sir, well jus row across the river like Gen’l George did crossin’ the Potomac to save Washington!”
I thought about it for a moment and realized he might be right. It’s unlikely that the Windsor police were trained to repell an invasion by 300 heavily armed Walleye fishermen landing on their waterfront.
“Our boys will spread out and seize South Detroit’s key installations -- night clubs, casinos, and the Hiram Walker distillery. By evening, all South Detroit will be safe in American hands. The grateful people will cheer us as their liberators and gladly reimburse us for our travel expenses.”
I must say, felt a little uneasy about this whole idea. So I asked, “You sure all this is necessary just to reduce the lines at the Tunnel and Bridge?”
“You don’t get it, do you? This ain’t ‘bout traffic! This here’s ‘bout liberty, freedom and globalization the American way! Lots’a Americans go ta Windsor to fritter away their money on gambling and low cost drugs. Only American companies should be allowed to profit from our ignorant, our impulsive, our huddled masses yearning to be well.”
Triumphantly razing his finger, this guy declared “Detroit can no longer exist half Canadian and half free! By reclaiming South Detroit, we strike a new blow for freedom-lovin’ American companies everywhere. Once Detroit is united under the American flag, our companies will experience a new burst of profit, conceived in market access, and dedicated to the proposition that all men (and women) are fair game!”
Well, friends, it’s been some months since I had this chance encounter at Starbucks. I must admit, it has changed my life. No, I’ve not joined the Michigan volunteers to aid in their pursuit of a pre-emptive strike against the Windsor’s redcoats.
No, it’s far more serious than that: I don’t read my morning paper at Starbucks any more!
