And it was just as fascinating as that stretch of Hadley where all the big boxes have set up shop, only there was more of it. I always try to find things in a place that are unique to that place, and it's harder and harder to do. It feels as if either a) Americans want everything to be the same everywhere they go because it's just so comforting to go to places like Macaroni Grill (how do you grill macaroni, anyway?) and eat huge portions of middling food packed with fat, or b) big box corporations want everything to be the same everywhere they go because it's just so lucrative when everybody goes to places like Macaroni Grill (how do you grill macaroni, anyway?) to eat huge portions of middling food packed with fat.
Ah well–at least there was Detroit-made Vernor's, "the original ginger soda." That was right tasty. And the music at the wedding was pretty fantastic after they finally got done with the second worst jazz tune of all time, "The Girl from Ipanema," which I'm convinced was designed to push every annoyance button in the human brain. (The worst song, I'd argue, is Diana Krall's rendition of "Peel Me A Grape," which contains the most annoying line in any lyric anywhere, "new Thunderbird me, you heard me.") But they got done with the Muzak, brought out a 6-plus foot female singer who channeled Tina Turner, and wow, what a sound. Motor City certainly delivered the goods in that department. To be expected, I suppose, considering the city is home to the truly intriguing Rev. Glen Armstrong and The Dirty Clergy, with whom I was lucky enough to attend grad school. (Glen, that is, not the Dirty Clergy.)
