It's odd how simple tasks can get very complicated. Today, for example, I left to get a haircut. I don't really have that much hair to begin with, but what I have left was starting to flop around more than John Kerry's stance on the Iraq war.
Anyway, I'm on my way to the barbershop when I get a call on my cell phone. It's a certain aquaintance of mine who works for the City. She says that she's faxing something over to me but, as she put it so dramatically, "it didn't come from me."
My curiosity gets the best of me so I turn the car around and head back. I pick up the fax, still warm. It's a letter from Amru Meah, director of Detroit's Buildings & Safety Department, to the City Council. He has declared the old Madison-Lennox Hotel to be threat to public safety and wants to tear it down expeditiously - without the usual procedures and oversight that normally comes with demolishing a historic structure.
I'm still not sure how I became to the go-to person for leaking information to about the demolition of historic buildings. For now, all that I know is that this little bit of political intrigue has found me. (And I thought all of that drama was behind me).
Anyway, some quick phone calls to the architects that I know and it's sounding more and more like the whole "impending danger to public safety" is bunch of hooey. A strategy phone call later, I decided to file a FOIA request for whatever reports Mr. Meah used to draw this conclusion.
As I'm typing up my FOIA request, my phone rings again. This time it's one of my friends who is about to move to Atlanta. We schedule a time to get together once more before the Big Move.
I was making a copy of the FOIA when my phone rangs again. It was one of the people that I had talked to a couple of weeks ago about having a product placement in my upcoming documentary.
No dice, he said. He has changed his mind. I tried convincing him to change his mind, but it was like trying to talk a river into flowing upstream. (I have no idea where that analogy actually came from; it just popped into my head as I was typing it).
Great, I thought after hanging up my phone. It looks like I'm going to be financing all of this film myself and taking all on all of the risk. (Yes, this also means that I get to keep all of the money that it brings in, but the whole thing does make me more than a bit nervous).
Anyway, I dropped off the FOIA at Detroit's Law Department just a couple of minutes before 5 o'clock. Made a note to call the folks at the National Trust of Historic Preservation for whatever guidance they can lend.
I finally did make it over to the barbershop, a whopping 11 minutes before they closed.
I miss the days gone by taking care of a simple task, like getting a haircut, didn't involve intrigue, drama or suspense. I suppose it all means -- welcome to the life of a grown up.
Anyway, I'm on my way to the barbershop when I get a call on my cell phone. It's a certain aquaintance of mine who works for the City. She says that she's faxing something over to me but, as she put it so dramatically, "it didn't come from me."
My curiosity gets the best of me so I turn the car around and head back. I pick up the fax, still warm. It's a letter from Amru Meah, director of Detroit's Buildings & Safety Department, to the City Council. He has declared the old Madison-Lennox Hotel to be threat to public safety and wants to tear it down expeditiously - without the usual procedures and oversight that normally comes with demolishing a historic structure.
I'm still not sure how I became to the go-to person for leaking information to about the demolition of historic buildings. For now, all that I know is that this little bit of political intrigue has found me. (And I thought all of that drama was behind me).
Anyway, some quick phone calls to the architects that I know and it's sounding more and more like the whole "impending danger to public safety" is bunch of hooey. A strategy phone call later, I decided to file a FOIA request for whatever reports Mr. Meah used to draw this conclusion.
As I'm typing up my FOIA request, my phone rings again. This time it's one of my friends who is about to move to Atlanta. We schedule a time to get together once more before the Big Move.
I was making a copy of the FOIA when my phone rangs again. It was one of the people that I had talked to a couple of weeks ago about having a product placement in my upcoming documentary.
No dice, he said. He has changed his mind. I tried convincing him to change his mind, but it was like trying to talk a river into flowing upstream. (I have no idea where that analogy actually came from; it just popped into my head as I was typing it).
Great, I thought after hanging up my phone. It looks like I'm going to be financing all of this film myself and taking all on all of the risk. (Yes, this also means that I get to keep all of the money that it brings in, but the whole thing does make me more than a bit nervous).
Anyway, I dropped off the FOIA at Detroit's Law Department just a couple of minutes before 5 o'clock. Made a note to call the folks at the National Trust of Historic Preservation for whatever guidance they can lend.
I finally did make it over to the barbershop, a whopping 11 minutes before they closed.
I miss the days gone by taking care of a simple task, like getting a haircut, didn't involve intrigue, drama or suspense. I suppose it all means -- welcome to the life of a grown up.
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