Alex and I visited my parents in Detroit this past weekend. When we were there, we took a ride by Ford’s Van Dyke Plant on Van Dyke Road and 18 Mile Road in Sterling Heights. The place is pretty interesting as a micro-study of industrial labor.

I think I’ve always been aware of the divisions or “caste system” of union vs. non-union laborers. I’ve seen the construction gates at Pittsburgh job sites that say “union entrance only” or heard automobile company employees talk about the “salaried workers” (usually in derogatory ways, of course–they don’t know how the plant “really works”).

The rift between the two is also apparent in the parking lot of the Ford plant, as you can see below (there is labeled “salaried” parking, but no similar “hourly” parking). It’s interesting how the way in which one gets paid can become such a defining factor of ones identity in an industrial environment such as this. I guess it also represents how the company values your work.

When sitting outside eating lunch, I noticed an old Cadillac drive by. I’m *sure* there is a ton of literature on this (a cursory look didn’t find any, however), but I was thinking: isn’t it interesting how one can “read” car body styles and, in doing so, gain some understanding of the times from which the design came? In the 50’s, cars were big and used thick steel–the features were rounded and soft, suggesting attention to quality, no concern in regards to fuel consumption (i.e. no oil crisis) and an optimistic outlook (I think soft features are “optimistic”?).

Today, cars are very utilitarian. Especially looking back at cars still on the road from the 80’s. Cars today use thin metal and plastic, and we are more obsessed with fuel economy (and that’s not a bad thing). Except for SUVs. They aren’t fuel efficient, and sort of embody the desire for “safety” and security in this “dangerous world” coupled with the “me first” attitude of our society.

These observations are not too novel, I know, and I’m also not sure whether I’m ascribing these properties to the cars “post mortem” or if they really are reflected in the cars’ style. Like most other interpretation, I’m sure the truth probably lies somewhere in between.

If you live in Pittsburgh, you *have* to go to Millvale. It’s like stepping back in time. From the streetlights, to the road signs, to the signage on local establishments, it’s all 40 years ago. Alex and I went there to visit, but I didn’t take a lot of photos. Millvale was just coming out of a flood from the recent severe weather, and I didn’t want to be disrespectful of their situation. It seems they got hit pretty hard–most families we saw had what appeared to be their entire basements on the curb. Sad. But we plan on going back, though.

Then we went to Dormont. Dormont is kind of the same thing–I have a few more photos from there, including a great old appliance store. Dormont seems like it’s a bit more affluent, and has access to the T (the subway). The people in the shops we stopped in were really nice–it’s hard to believe you’re so close to Pittsburgh, because in so many ways, both boroughs seem a world apart. It’s amazing what a river or a small mountain can do to separate cities and cultures.

Yesterday, Alex and I went to go see B.I.K.E. at Pittsburgh Filmmakers. The night started out strangely–outside of Filmmakers, there was a hoarde of bikers. At least 30 to 40. We thought they would come into the show, and as it got closer and closer to show time, we were both sure the bikers would come in “fashionably late”. But they never came.

And the movie itself? It was pretty bad. I think my “favorite” part was when Conrad Carlson, who is the “vice president”(?) of the Black Label NYC group, got into his Range Rover to drive to Minneapolis in order to meet with the other members of Black Label at their national event. Honestly, I was waiting for them to explain that they rented a Range Rover to make a statement about waste and oil consumption (two of their “issues”). But it never came–Conrad actually owns a Range Rover. And his friend drove a Mercedes there.

Not only did the movie leave a lot to be technically desired (the cinematography was awful), but the plot was similarly poor. The movie follows the co-director as he strives to gain acceptance into Black Label after his junkie girlfriend breaks up with him for somebody she met at rehab. Now, I feel sorry for the guy in regards to his emotional pain, but I’m not worried about their well being. They all seem pretty well off: driving expensive cars, playing in a warehouse in New York City, flying to Amsterdam for jousting events, and using conventional emergency services when they get hurt doing stupid things.

I’m not sure who’s wasting more: “conventional” people who “drive and consume”, or those with financial support that allows them to “waste” their younger years falling off bikes, getting high and performing other stupid stunts that keep them in the emergency room (and from growing up).

Doyle asks in New York Times article, “Who else is going to go work out in the desert for cheap for six weeks?” Well, not me. I have one of those pesky middle-class things called a “job”.