Kish and I drove across northern Ohio today, moving from Detroit to Pittsburgh, where I’ve got meetings tomorrow. After we arrived we decided we need to stretch our legs, so we walked across one of the many bridges in the ‘burgh and ended up at the Point, where the Allegheny and the Monongahela meet and form the river that gives the Buckeye State its name.
It’s a pretty spot, and it affords a pretty good look at downtown Pittsburgh, too.
At the far edge of downtown Detroit, just across the river from Canada, is a monument to heavyweight boxer Joe Louis. It’s a huge fist and arm, suspended from a pyramid.
It’s a wonderful sculpture, with the fist and the outstretched arm conveying an awesome sense of power. Curiously, the Detroit city fathers have placed it on a traffic island in the middle of an intersection, where it’s not easy to get to and see up close. I took a close look, anyway.
What’s the point of having a cool bit of sculpture in your downtown area if you put it in an inaccessible location? Detroit should move “The Fist” to a better place, where everyone can enjoy it.
Here’s another little example of how the internet has made the world a better place.
We wanted to find a bar where we could watch the Buckeyes play Penn State last night. But we were in Michigan, of course, and therefore were like pilgrims in an unholy land. Walking into any randomly selected bar and openly rooting for Ohio State seemed like a bad, and potentially reckless, idea.
So we used our iPhones to google “Ohio State bar in Detroit,” and found Hi-Tops Ten & One Half, just down Woodward Avenue in Royal Oaks. It’s where some diehard Buckeyes meet to drink a few beers and watch Ohio State games on one of the dozens of TVs found around the room.
So, instead of worrying about drawing evil looks from Michigan fans drinking at nearby tables, we were able to watch Ohio State demolish Penn State in comfort, with friendly fellow citizens of Buckeye Nation who shared our interest in seeing the Buckeyes triumph. High fives were exchanged, OH-IO chants were had, the beer was cold, and the burgers and wings were tasty. When the game was over, we were happy, well-fed, and well-lubricated pilgrims, girded and ready to reemerge into unholy territory.