Concentrate - Blog

Post No. 1

Wed, 14 May 2008 00:00:00 GMT

The Discovery at 30,000 Feet

Rather than merely tell a story of how I first discovered Ann Arbor or why I live there, this true-life narrative describes my experiences — a long-time Ann Arborite and weary business traveler — reflecting on the place I call home.

It’s just a short walk from my World Club suite to the Northwest gate at Detroit Metro. I arrive with time to spare. Without much preamble, I’m vouched, debagged and in my seat in first class awaiting takeoff. I rarely travel first class — I fail to see the point, especially on a flight to New York. It’s so short, barely two hours. But a lack of flight options has forced my hand this trip. There are worse fates, I imagine. I will enjoy the extra legroom.

During the boarding sequence, I put on my iPod earbuds and settle into reading a newspaper left by a previous passenger. The paper is a day old, but it has an interesting article about Microsoft’s Vista blunders. The repetition of wholly avoidable multi-million dollar mistakes fascinates me.

A few feet in front of me, there’s a disturbance. I peer over my paper to see a group of three young women, all in their mid to late teens, trying to help one member locate seat 4A. The surrounding travelers point at the seat next to mine. I feign oblivion, pretending to be engrossed in my paper and iPod as the young girl dressed in a pink hooded pullover, fashionably distressed jeans, Nike Dunks and Louis Vuitton luggage approaches. Abashedly, she requests to access her seat. I respectfully oblige. Her friend comes over moments later and gleefully requests that I take care of her, as this is her first flight. My socially polished smile fades as my head fills with images of a panic-stricken teenager -- screeching and grasping at the windows, the seat and me -- using her best William Shatner impression from "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet."

Fortunately, no such drama occurs. And the flight passes without incident. In fact, it’s not long before she and I are engaged in friendly banter. Soon we’re talking about our week’s plans and swapping mp3s. I introduce her to Jalyn. She introduces me to an unreleased artist whose name she doesn’t know.

Sitting cross-legged in her flight chair, she explains that this is actually her first commercial flight. Previously, she has flown only on her family’s private plane. She’s 16. She has all the normal teen accoutrements: MacBook, iPod, Blackberry, et al. And she knows nothing about how all this technology works, just that she needs it to work. I show her how to crack her iPod to get to her music. I explain that once you understand how something works, you can make it do almost anything you want.

And that’s what I do for a living; get things (brands, businesses, technology) to do what people want, not the other way around. She, however, seems more fascinated by the fact that she just scored some new music. I conclude that this is the generation and demographic that’s going to make enterprising technologists billionaires many times over. A global population of lifestyle technology-dependant super addicts. Unable to satiate their expensive want for more … or repair it once it’s broken. Apple is clearly on to something.

She goes on to tell me that she’s from Bloomfield Hills, hates Michigan and can’t wait to get out, naming colleges in Los Angeles and Florida among her preferred destinations. I don’t counter her comment. She asks where I’m from. I tell her Ann Arbor. She states that Ann Arbor is cool despite being in Michigan.

I can’t deny that the town possesses an oddly enduring cool factor. Wherever I travel, young and old alike seem to have an indefinable respect for Ann Arbor. The idea of Ann Arbor seems inviting and affecting, since most are willing to agree that it’s a cool place even if they’ve never been there.

I can relate.

Getting my first taste of freedom -- walking, busing and biking around town with my friend as preteens. Far more adventurous than my upper middleclass hometown that boasted no buses … no sidewalks … and nowhere to go. Ann Arbor, however, felt safe, fun and alive — like a massive six-square-mile playground. I practically begged my parents to move us there. It took them several years to realize that my request actually made some sense.

The girl then tells me about her first experience with Ann Arbor that happened not too long ago. Although hers involves fake IDs and bars, a similar sentiment of discovery is there -- even if it’s linked to dubious teen behavior. Despite this twist, the point isn’t lost on me. Her present situation is very similar to how mine once was: young, looking for freedom and a welcomed change of place. Perhaps she will feel drawn to Ann Arbor’s opportunities too. One day, she may find herself begging to try out Ann Arbor. Maybe even attend school there. And perhaps her parents begin to realize the request would benefit them personally as well.

Post No. 4

Mon, 05 May 2008 20:28:37 GMT

In the short term... in the long term

I’m sure I’m not the first to say it: We have to do morelong term thinking when it comes to sustainable transportation. Especially in Metro Detroit.

Right now, gas prices are exceedingly high. McCain and Clinton are talking about cutting the gas tax. Everyone is feeling the pinch.

And people are actually starting to change their behavior. The other day, I was talking with Michelle Romano Rockwood, who works for MichiVan. MichiVan runs the vanpool program for the State of Michigan. Currently, the University of Michigan has over 80 vanpools. And Michelle is completely swamped. When gas prices start to reach a certain level, people start looking for alternatives. And the funny part is, Michelle says that once someone gets into a vanpool they find they really enjoy it.

So, I guess what I am saying is this is not the time to encourage people to drive their cars more. This is a golden opportunity to get people to think about alternatives,and to push for new ones.

Every day, tens of thousands of people commute from Wayne County to Washtenaw County. The only option they currently have is to drive. And cutting the gas tax will not create a rail system from Ann Arbor to Detroit.

This is the time when Ann Arbor,Washtenaw County and Metro Detroit need to seriously think about a long range vision for sustainable transportation. Because, at the end of the day, that’s the biggest problem with our most popular mode of transportation: it is bad for the environment.

What we are doing today will certainly impact future generations. Now is the time to decide to no longer depend on gas guzzling vehicles to get us around. Our community is extremely talented and I believe we all want to live in a place where we can get around with ease. Building more highways is not going to bring about true change. Building a system with express buses, bike lanes, sidewalks, and a rail system and more can do just that.

In the short term, we may be negatively impacted by high gas prices. But if we decide on a short term fix, and just keep driving along, we might just run our planet (and our community) into the ground.

I know this is a bit extreme, but our environmental situation is extreme. And if we knew that we had the power to preserve the earth for future generations but decided not to for the sake of personal convenience, wouldn’t that seem a little short sighted?

And what is interesting about all of this is that curbingour cars is not about personal sacrifice. It’s quite the opposite.

Imagine a future where you can walk to work and on the way home you grab a loaf of bread from the local bakery for dinner. Imagine a future where you can hop on a train and eat at a really good bbq restaurant in Detroit and not have to worry about that second beer. Imagine a future where our children can walk and bike to school and learn about nature along the way. Imagine a prosperous economy buoyed by a clean, safe environment where everyone can move around with ease. Isn’t this the future we want for Metro Detroit?

Post No. 3

Fri, 02 May 2008 08:11:28 GMT

What I’ve learned so far since I started working for getDowntown:

-Young professionals want to walk, bike and take transit to work. Older people don’t seem to get this (I know that is a gross generalization). But it’s investing in public transit that is going to keep our young talent here.

-Downtown density is good. Good for the environment (people are closer to shops, grocery stores,work, etc.); good for the economy (encourages development); good for people who want to hang out in a fun happening place. Now if we could only get the City to make it easier to develop and get people to stop being afraid of development. And if all developments could be designed with some green spaces and with pleasant features. Then we’d be okay.

-What makes a downtown great is the people. Whatever we can do to get people here (and not their cars) is a good strategy. Let’s focus on that as a goal.

-People don’t want to drive to work everyday, but the reality is there are places even 10 miles outside Ann Arbor (think Scio Township) that don’t even have bus service. This is not cool. What can’t we work together so that people can get around this whole county (and beyond) without a car? If we don’t build it, people will never understand just how valuable it is.

-People love the idea of Zipcars. It’s like this incredible idea to people. And the fact that Zipcars actually get people to share something that we once thought of as “mine” (our cars) is even better.

-People are still not living close to where they work. And this is a huge problem for them, for the environment and for our communities. How can we get people to live closer to where they work? And how can we create communities that reward people for living close to where they work?

-It’s often easier to work with local businesses than with chains (I don’t have to wait to for the manager to get approval from corporate before she can do something). But at the same time, chains can often provide gifts for prizes and when they do get involved, they can put a lot of resources into the effort.

-Bike lanes matter. Period. It makes bikes feel welcome and cars understand that bikes belong on the road.

-There are not enough business leaders (with lots of resources) stepping forward to promote public transportation. Where are you? We need you!

-We need to continue to talk about the new reality. A reality where cars don’t rule, pedestrians,cyclists and transit riders do. What would that new reality look like?

Post No. 2

Thu, 01 May 2008 07:38:11 GMT

Why Curb Your Car Month Matters

So here I am in a state known by its cars asking you to drive less. The nerve I have,right? Well, there are plenty of reasonsto celebrate Curb Your Car Month (more info at www.getdowntown.org) whether you are in Ann Arbor or anywhereelse for that matter.

But I think we all know those reasons, right? We know driving less helps theenvironment. We know driving less is better for our health. We know thatdriving less saves us money. We know driving less will make us less stressed. We know it, we know it, we know it.

So why don’t we change?

This is one of the biggest challenges I face at the getDowntown Program. Everyone knows they should be driving less, but not enough people make the choice to change theirbehavior. I see both individual and regional reasons why we still drive so much.

On an individual level, people simply want to do what ismost convenient for them. And rolling out of bed, jumping in your car, parking, and stepping into your office is convenient. And I think many of us are taught to believethat our lives should be as convenient as possible. We don’t have time to figure out a busschedule. We don’t have time to spend anextra 30 minutes walking to work. Iwould go as far as to say that we are too lazy, but I know that is not thecase. We all do what works best for us,and for most of us, that means driving.

People are also still making the decision to live far awayfrom where they work. I have heard many employees tell me that they choose to live out in the country and drive towork. They want to live out in thecountry because it’s pretty, but that’s not where the jobs are. So they live in Chelseaor Dexter or Grass Lake or wherever and drive to Ann Arbor. And trust me, it’s not always because housing is not affordable in Ann Arbor. My husband and I bought a house here. Granted, it’s a small house, but it allows usto only have one car and bike, walk, or bus to work. Now, I know that there is an affordablehousing issue, I just don’t think that’s the main reason people are choosingnot to live here.

But I believe there are also larger regional (and societal) reasons behind why we don’t change. As a region, Washtenaw County has not developeda regional funding mechanism for a transportation system that includes somesort of rail, express buses, county-wide bike lanes, etc. I can’t tell you how many times people haveasked me why we don’t have an express bus from Ypsi to Ann Arbor or why there isn’t a bus from Saline. And the answer is always that wejust don’t have the plan and the money in place to make it happen. But I don’t think that’s a good enoughanswer. We have to do better, because I am getting sick of telling people that we don’t have the money to create a wayto get people around without their cars.

As long as we continue to expand roads instead of build bikelanes. As long as we think about cuttingbus service instead of creating better service. As long as we build subdivisions out in the middle of nowhere, we are sending the message that cars and driving matters more than anything else. If we don’t create a region that supports public transportation in all forms, people are not going to be as interested in using it.

At the same time, I have been amazed at all of the wonderfulpeople who have signed on as Curb Your Car Month Ambassadors for May. For the most part, these are young,college-educated workers who have made the conscious decision to use sustainable transportation.

There’s Joe over at JJR,who bikes to work and takes his 2 and 4 year old kids on rides in their bike trailer.

There’s Jeff, a middle schoolteacher, who is recently car free.

There’s Dunrie from Pure Visibility, who moved to a house that was closeenough so she could walk to work.

Checkout all of the wonderful Curb Your Car Ambassadors (all 30+ of them!) byclicking here: http://www.getdowntown.org/programs/commuter/2008_Ambassadors.html

These are the kind of people we need inAnn Arbor. I believe we could attract more of them if weput more effort into funding a regional transportation system. That’s what these knowledge workers want. So let’s build it.

Post No. 1

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 00:00:00 GMT

I suppose the first post I write should explain a little about me and how I got here.

But before I do, remember that it’s Curb Your CarMonth! Check out all of the events and other fun here: www.getdowntown.org

So now to my story. Like many Ann Arborites, I am not actually from Ann Arbor. I’m from suburban Maryland. Montgomery Village to be exact. And oddly enough, my High School mascot was the Wolverine. So maybe it was fate that brought me here.

When I graduated from High School I was ready to get out. And so I went to Grinnell Collegein Iowa. And it was there that I met my husband,Chuck. We later moved to Madison, WI for a summer, then to Washington D.C.and then to Ann Arbor. A lot of people told me that Ann Arbor was a lot like Madison (and it is . . . sort of).

My husband and I knew absolutely no one when we moved here. And I got a job at Zingerman’s Deli, where I worked for a year. But one of the reasons we moved to Ann Arbor was because I wanted to get my graduate degree in Social Work. And the University of Michigan has the top school in the country for Social Work. So I applied and was accepted and thought I would become a therapist of some sort, kind of like my mom and dad.

But after talking to a professor during an open house I realized that what I was really interested in was community. Or rather, bringing different people in the community together to bring about positive change.

And I think Ann Arbor really influenced my decision to changedirections. You see, I grew up in the suburbs. We hung out at the mall and shopped at chain stores. We drove everywhere because it was a "planned community"; meaning that houses and stores shall not mix.

Ann Arbor was one of the first places I’ve lived where I ever felt a real sense of community. Ann Arbor has its own character, its own culture and vibe. There are so many things that make this place unique. And to me, there is something very important about that, because it makes you care aboutwhere you live. And when you care, you actually want to make the community even better. And I would extend my sense of community tomore than just Ann Arbor. I’ve worked and hung out in Ypsi. I’ve biked to get Cider and Donuts in Dexter. I’ve worked in Chelsea and eaten at the Common Grill.

As you will read in my future posts, I think a major part of a good community is the ability to use sustainable transportation to get youwhere you want to go. Ann Arbor is so great because you can walk,bike and bus to work, or to downtown. Ann Arbor is great because it has bike lanes and an excellent bus system. And while all of it could get better, having all of these choices definitely makes for a better place to live.

A big reason why walking, bike and busing are important is that when you are walking around your community, or hopping on the bus, you areright up close and personal with lots of different people. Driving around in a car on a highway is noway to experience any community.

I love when I walk to work and see someone I know and canactually stop and talk to them. The other day, I randomly ran into a friend in downtown Ann Arbor. We later met up at Melange for some drinks. How cool is that? And if I had just jumped into my car and drove home, I never would have seen her and had that experience. On the bus, I’ve run into the owner of Suwannee Springs, a manager from Ten Thousand Villages, and an employee at Bennett Optometry. If I would have chosen to drive instead, I wouldn’t have interacted with any of those folks.

Can you see how important this is? If we begin to ignore the world around us, it slowly falls into disrepair out of neglect. We need to have places where we come face to face with the people in our community. We need a way for people toget around without a car so that all kinds of people can live in ourcommunity. I believe that public transportation is a public good and should be valued as much as we value ourcars and private homes.

I’ve been at the getDowntown Program since July and have enjoyed (almost) every minute of it. I live close enough to walk, bike and bus to work. I want to work to bring sustainable transportation to Ann Arbor and points beyond.

And I hope you can help me do it.

Post No. 4

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 00:28:17 GMT

As I mentioned in a previous post, I like An Arbor quite a bit. I don't, however, have a fondness for its Art Fair. At least I haven't historically.

Maybe it's all the memories of working during it. Restaurant jobs during Art Fair, as you might imagine, suck. It's hot, thankless work cooking in a kitchen anyway, but the steady crowds of Art Fair make it unbearable. As I've been out of food service since my graduation from college, my opinions on Art Fair are changing a bit, though. I still don't find myself liking a lot of the art, but I don't have the same visceral reaction when I ride my bike into town and see all the white tents going up in the distance. I no longer feel like curling up into the fetal position and crying. Now that I'm older, I appreciate it for what it is - an extremely effective engine for keeping the local economy afloat during the student draught of summer. So, I like for that. Anything, in my book, that helps our independently-owned, local businesses up and running is good. So, my relationship with the Art Fair, I guess you could say, is maturing.

Soon after moving to Ypsilanti it occurred to me that there might be an opportunity for us to benefit from Art Fair as well. If we could coordinate our restaurants and bars, I thought, we could maybe pitch something like an "Escape Ann Arbor" event for locals. They may not be willing to say it publicly, but I know a hell of a lot of people who live in Ann Arbor that absolutely hate the Art Fair and the throngs of fanny-packed tourists that it brings along in its wake. I think these folks would welcome a slightly subversive opportunity to lash out by spending a few dollars in Ypsi. At the very least, I thought, we'd get a ton of bitter restaurant employees. (And, yes, like Obama, I used the word "bitter.") As I can attest, they spend quite a bit of money and tip pretty well... Anyway, that was the genesis of what was to become the Shadow Art Fair.

Like most of my good ideas, nothing happened with it for a few years, until I mentioned it to the right group of people. In this case, it was five people that I'd met through Jennifer Albaum's store, Henrietta Fahrenheit. We all sold stuff through the store, which had since closed, and we all wanted to keep making and selling whatever it was that we were making at the time. In addition to Jennifer Albaum, the team consisted of Timothy Furstnau, Molly Mast, Melissa Dettloff and Tiffany Threadgould. (Tiffany's since moved on to New York, but the rest of us are still together, running the Shadow empire)

I brought my "Let's do something in Ypsi during Art Fair" idea to the table, and the rest is history. All the right components were in place. Our friends Matt and Rene Greff had just opened the Corner Brewery in Ypsi, which I thought would provide the perfect venue, and we knew tons of people doing insanely creative work in art, fashion and music. We thought that, even if we didn't get a lot of customers, it would be cool just to sit around, drink beer, and talk with other people doing interesting work. Our hope was that collaborations could be discussed and other creative projects might spring up as a result.

Well, as rarely happens, at least for me, we were apparently at the right place at the right time. People, for whatever reasons, were ready for a broad, quirky, playfully counter-culture art fair. Maybe they were rebelling against Ann Arbor's established, high dollar art fair, and all of its living room-friendly landscape paintings. Maybe they just longed to meet people doing interesting, handmade, non-corporate work. For whatever reason, people came out in droves to meet the collection of zine makers, fashion designers, musicians and artists that we'd pulled together. It far exceeded our wildest expectations. (At least 1,500 people attended the first SAF)

And, with success came some pretty big questions.

By the time we'd done two, word had spread pretty far. We were getting mentioned here and there, and, as a result, some large corporate entities started sniffing around. Sponsorship offers were made. And we, the founders of the fair, had a frank conversation about what we wanted. Happily, we all agreed on one thing. We didn't want to "cash in" in what we'd created. We didn't want to take the money of a large corporation that would then make demands on us, and try to change what we'd built. (We actually offered to put their sign in the bathroom for an obscene amount of money, which we were thinking we could then pour into art supplies for needy kids, but they didn't respond)

If we didn't want to grow that way, though, what direction did we want to grow in? We'd decided to have them twice a year, but what else? Did we want to make the it bigger? Did we want to spread it over multiple venues? Did we want to raise the table-rental fees now that so many people were applying to be vendors, and use that money to fund other endeavors? Did we want to set up an online store so that we could sell items to folks that lived too far away to attend?

In the end, we decided not to change much about the SAF itself. We continued to try different things, like going to two days instead of one, and having music outside instead of inside, but those changes weren't terribly significant. The Fair pretty much kept its eccentric character. We decided instead to focus on other projects that would leverage the success of the SAF. Like Zingerman's, we decided to diversify.

Melissa brought the first project to the table. She suggested that we start a grant program. We all liked the idea, and decided in order to fund it that we'd put a bucket out in front of our next event with a sign asking for every person coming in to leave a nickel. We raised $917.18 that way. (Some people clearly left more) And, we had a few friends brew a special beer for the occasion, with a dollar from every sale going into the same grant fund. By the time we added everything up, we'd raised $1,027.18, and all of that money is now available. So, if you've got a damned good idea, let us know about it - we've got money to invest.

Here's the announcement as it appears on our site:

People in Washtenaw county have great ideas. Some ideas or projects, like the Shadow Art Fair, don't take much to get going. Others do. We recognize that we have several brilliant, ambitious people in this community and we want to give them the tools they need to accomplish great things. Through this special grant program, we hope to do just that.

Here briefly are the criteria we're looking for:

We will consider the number of people being included, affected, impacted by the proposed project.

All projects, for the purposes of this grant program, will have to stay within legal boundaries. For instance, if public artwork is a component, it needs to be done legally.

Preference may be given to groups and individuals who are able to leverage other resources. For instance, if you can come up with a matching grant from elsewhere, or if you have in-kind donations being offered, that will be taken into consideration.

The more inspiring, brilliant and ambitious, the better.

You must remain loyal to the inclusive, DIY ethic of the Shadow Art Fair.

All projects must lend themselves to documentation of some sort, witch will be shared online through the SAF website. Elapsed progress on the selected project(s) is expected to be presented at the 2008 Winter Shadow Art Fair, the first Saturday in December. You may be asked to submit a progress report before presenting at the Winter Shadow Art Fair.

So, what's your idea?

Be resourceful. Think about your community. Funding is being cut everywhere. We need to be creative. How can you realistically effect change? Who do you know who could help? Are there artists you could bring together for an event? We have to create the change we want to see in our community, and this is your chance.??

Are you a retired teacher who wants to hold a Saturday morning arts class for kids at the farmer's market? Do you just need a few hundred dollars to get a local art material exchange site launched on the internet? Do you want to produce a speaker series in cooperation with a local university?

So, how about it?

If you have an idea, you'll find our application form here.

Also, the date of the next Shadow Art Fair has been announced. It will be noon to midnight on Saturday, July 19. If you want to be a vendor, we have an application for that too.

Post No. 3

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 00:03:41 GMT

What's it going to take to open Ypsi's Freighthouse?

There are a lot of things that need to happen in Ypsilanti. A favorite pastime here in town is debating the order in which they need to be addressed. Or, maybe it's more appropriate to say that we fight over it. That's what happens when resources dry up. People, all probably well intentioned, begin to squabble. For every project that takes a step forward, you can bet there's someone in the wings, cursing their good fortune. And, I'm just as guilty of this kind of thinking as anyone.

Recently, I got it into my head that Ypsilanti's Riverside Arts Center had
perhaps unfairly claimed funds that should have been directed toward the reopening of Ypsilanti's historic Freighthouse. I'm still not confident that there isn't cause to be upset, but I don't think that the protracted online squabble that resulted from my remarks does either group any good.

But I feel passionately about the Freighthouse. It's my favorite place in the entire world.

Or, at least, it was.

I can't remember when I first started going there. It was probably 11 or 12 years ago now. It was a magical kind of a place. A handful of other communities out there, I imagine, have public spaces warmed by wood burning stoves, where folks gather and talk, make music together, drink coffee, play with babies, and the like. There was something different here, though. I'm trying hard not to use the word "spiritual" here, because I don't want to be someone that would say something like that, but there was something about it that made me feel really good, and surprisingly optimistic about the human condition.

I've never been in a room where an elderly woman suffering from Alzheimer's could stand up and start dancing alongside little kids as though she were one of them, and it wouldn't seem at all odd. But stuff like that happened at the Freighthouse all the time. I don't want to overstate it, but there really was this incredible sense of inclusion and camaraderie that crossed all the typical lines that separate us from one another as human beings.

Sitting there on Saturday mornings was the most "in the moment," free of worry, and happy that I have ever been. And it's a big part of why I wanted to move back to Ypsilanti and settle down here. I wanted to live in a place where black kids could dance to amateur bluegrass next to an old man wearing a dress, like it was the most natural thing in the world. It reminded me of the Twin Peaks universe, only everything, instead of having a dark, seedy underbelly hidden just below the surface, had a kind of a hidden beauty, and a glowing shimmer. It was quirky and beautiful.

It was a like a little window into the heart of our City.

But that little window has been closed for the past several years now, due to repairs that need to be made. Apparently, until they're done, no one will insure the once vital building.

So, when I had an opportunity on my blog not too long ago to argue that money directed toward the Riverside Arts Center should instead have been used to make the repairs necessary to reopen the Freighthouse, I took it. Several good folks came forward to explain the situation to me, and tell me why I was wrong to argue that one was more valuable to the community than the other, and they were probably right. They pointed out that, as wonderful a place as the Freighthouse was, there wasn't a business plan in place that would see it operational, even if the repairs could be made. The Riverside Arts Center, on the other hand, had a plan, a track record, and a responsible Board. The Freighthouse had a Friends group that, while well intentioned, hadn't been able to move the project forward significantly over the past several years. As it was explained to me by one person, "They're organized enough to prevent a private developer from doing anything with in - like turning it into a McDonalds - but they aren't organized enough to raise the money for the repairs and see it opened as a viable, self-supporting entity." So, let's say all that's true – what now?

Are the people of Ypsilanti willing to get behind the Freighthouse in a significant way? It seems like there's some movement in that direction already.

The Friends of the Ypsilanti Freighthouse have applied for a $15,000 grant through Hamburger Helper's My Hometown Helper program. In hopes that our project is among those selected this funding cycle, Ypsi residents were being encouraged to leave notes of support on the Hamburger Helper site. We had 272 notes of support by the deadline. If you have a chance, I'd recommend that you go over and read what your neighbors had to say about the historic railroad building, and what it's meant to them. The stories of attending dances and weddings there, going back several generations, are quite touching. If there was ever any question that the Freighthouse was an integral part of our local community, this should erase any doubt.

The $15,000, if we get it, is only a fraction of the close to $400,000 in repairs that have been estimated, but it would be a fantastic step in the right direction, and, hopefully, it would encourage all of us to do more. Already, Café Luwak and Sidetrack have stepped forward to offer a percentage of their sales on certain days to the building's rehabilitation. And, the Full Freight Banjo fundraiser that was held a few weeks ago brought in over $3,000. It may not much in the whole scheme of things, but it's a great first step, especially when you consider that the last big, coordinated fundraising effort was February 19, 2005 – over three years ago – when the previous incarnation of Friends of the Freighthouse held their Preservation Ball.

I think I speak for most everyone when I say that we can't go another three years without our Freighthouse. I know it might sound like hyperbole, but the success of our town hinges on this beautiful, old community gathering space. When it's up and running, it illustrates all that's good about our City, and we can't afford to lose that now.

As I understand it, close to $400,000 in repairs have to be done before the building can be opened to the public. The good news is, I'm also told that the project might qualify for existing State of Michigan and federal grants, once some initial work is done, and a plan for keeping it running is in place. I know it's optimistic, but is it possible to think that we might be able to raise $100,000 within the community if we coordinate a year of fundraising activities beginning right now?

But, we don't just need to raise the money to see the repairs made - we need a plan that carries us into the future, ensuring that the Freighthouse, once opened, stays opened. We need to figure out how we're going to pay for someone to manage the space and keep the electricity on. A necessary first step, I'm thinking, is that the Friends of the Freighthouse need to call people together for a big brainstorming session. We need everyone in town to get involved. We need our EMU Business School faculty, we need our local entrepreneurs, we need our arts community, and we need our City leaders. We need everyone to get on the same page and make this a priority.

I have to think that there's a business model that would work. I recently talked with two caterers in Ann Arbor. Both confirmed that our area is sorely lacking when it comes to venues that can accommodate 300 and more people. They assured me that we'd have no shortage of groups offering to pay daily rental rates of $1,000 for the Freighthouse. If we had a few events like this a month, I'm thinking, it would go a long way toward keeping the lights on for things like the Saturday morning farmers market.

We need the Freighthouse because it sets us apart as a community. We need it because we need a place to hold our winter farmers' markets and our community dances. We need someplace for people to get married. We need a place for public meetings. We need a place to hold our debates and our elections… I'm reluctant to volunteer for something else, but I'll pledge this much. If people like the idea of a public meeting on the future of the Freighthouse, I'll ask some people and see if I can't put together a group of people to make it happen. I know budgets are tight right now, I know there are other worthy causes, like the public pool, and I know people are stretched for time, but if we're ever going to move this forward, now's the time we need to apply some muscle. If we want to save the Freighthouse, we need get moving.

As for the Riverside Arts Center, I don't begrudge them that they got the MEDC funds that had previously been committed to the development of the Water Street parcel. Their $600,000 elevator project is a worthy cause. The elevator, when completed, will allow disabled visitors to get to the upper floors of the building, and that's important. It's certainly better that the money went there instead of being lost when the Water Street project stalled. I just wish that other groups in the community, such as those supporting the Freighthouse and the Rutherford Pool, which also desperately needs work done, were given an opportunity to compete for the funds.

It's complicated, and, as I said at the start, there aren't really any bad guys here. No one took money for personal gain. It just appears as though a decision was made to help one entity, one with a proven track record, when other facilities in need of repair, like the Freighthouse and public pool, weren't given the option.

As I understand it, it's too late to move the money from the elevator at this point, even if we wanted to and thought that State would accept it, so all we can really do is wish them luck raising what they need to complete the job, and hope, once their project is completed, that they do everything possible to help the Freighthouse along by offering assistance, hosting fundraisers, etc. And all of us in the meantime need to do a better job of sharing information. If we haven't started to do so already, we need to get the directors of our local non-profits and various "friends" groups together at least once a quarter to discuss what they're doing and where there might be synergies.

Decisions such as these, especially during poor economic times such as these, need to be made transparent. And there has to be ample opportunity for community input. To avoid doing this again in the future, we need better coordination between Council, City Administration, and the various groups within the community.

It may be a lot to ask of a City that, for some unfathomable reason, has not only a Chamber of Commerce, but three separate business associations, but we desperately need to better coordinate decision-making so issues like this do not arise in the future.

And hopefully, one day, we can have all of these meetings at the Freighthouse. It would be perfect.

If you have a few bucks, please consider sending them to:

Friends of the Ypsilanti Freighthouse
P.O. Box 970919
Ypsilanti, MI 48197-0919.

(The Friends of the Ypsilanti Freighthouse is a 501(c)(3) organization)

Or, better yet, think of something that you can do to raise money. The Fullfreight Banjo fundraiser a few weeks ago raised over $3,000, and it was essentially the work of a single motivated Ypsilantian (and all the musicians he knew). He took something that he knew and he found a way to apply it for the good of the Freighthouse and the community. Surely you've got an idea that might bring in a few hundred dollars for a good cause.

Post No. 2

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 00:00:00 GMT

Who's Up for a Pedal Powered Film Festival in Ypsi's Riverside Park?

Those of you who read my blog know that a lot of things occur to me during the course of a day. Most of my ideas are admittedly pretty stupid. Recently, for example, I was arguing that Ypsilanti should position itself as a regional hub drive-thru chicken slaughter.

Occasionally, however, I come up with something really good. The last one of those that I had was for a bike-powered film series in Ypsilanti's Riverside Park. And it wasn't really all my idea. I just got the ball rolling.

The origin of the idea was pretty simple. I have a favorite movie, and I wanted to watch it some spring evening with my friends on the banks of the Huron River. The movie was the 1955 film noir Night of the Hunter - the only film ever directed by actor Charles Laughton. The film follows two children as they travel down a river, away from their mother's killer, a murderous preacher played by Robert Mitchum. It's a brilliant film that I love sharing with people, and I can't imagine a better venue than alongside the Huron at dusk, there among the frogs and crickets. That, anyway, was the impetus. And things evolved from there.

Shortly after posting the idea, two things became very clear. First, I found that there are a lot of people who really feel passionately about Night of the Hunter. And, second, I found out that there are a hell of a lot of people who want to see movies in our park. And, best of all, I learned that representatives from both groups are willing to help. Within hours of posting my idea, I had offers of sound systems and projectors. I had people offering to shimmy up trees to hang screens. I had people offering to bring popcorn. I also got the sense that this was going to happen with or without me, which was really cool.

Then we found out that it we couldn't get electricity in Riverside Park. That's when conversation on my site turned to solar cells. I ran the idea by Dave Strenski, the fellow who built the solar system at the Ypsi Food Co-op, and he, for various reasons, suggested we not go that route. (I think there was some mention of acid sloshing around and getting into kids' eyes)

The wheels, however, kept turning, and we ultimately settled on bike power, which is probably where we should have started in the first place. It works on every level.

I cannot imagine a better community-building event than a free, people-powered movie series. (And, yes, somewhere along the line it also became a short series, which could include other river-centric films, like The African Queen, or offerings for kids.) It has a whimsical Gilligan's Island kind of feeling to it that makes me smile whenever I think about it. I envision kids peddling with their parents, neighborhood associations signing up for blocks of riding time, folks from our senior housing developments coming out - everyone happy and enjoying the evening.

There would be another benefit too. If we pull it off, I think we might be the first in the nation to do so. I imagine some positive press might come from it, and maybe, just maybe, it'll be enough to attract the attention of an alternative energy company looking to open a facility in the Midwest, or a green developer --like this one. I know it's a reach, but as long as we're rebuilding Ypsilanti, why not do it right? Why not go green? Why not say to the world that we're a forward-looking community, thinking about sustainability?

I don't know how successful they've been, but there's a town in Kansas that's doing it. They were hit by a tornado, and they've decided to rebuild green. They're using the opportunity to recreate their city. Why can't we do the same thing, starting with the 38-acre parcel we call Water Street?

We've already started doing it from the bottom up. Volunteers led by Dave Strenski have already converted our Co-op over to solar. And dozens of us have already pledged our own money to do the same for City Hall. The citizens of Ypsi are stepping in and doing it themselves, and this bike-powered movie project would be one more, very visible, illustration of that fact. This movie series would be an inexpensive, fun way to show the world what we value and what we're capable of.

As for the costs, I don't expect they'd amount to too much. I've got people willing to donate bikes. The only real significant cost then, assuming that we can borrow a projector and sound system, would be the City's fee for the use of the park and the generators. But, before we worry about that, we need to figure out how many bikes we need. Following are two assessments from my readers.

This first one comes from Paul G, an engineer in Silicon Valley:

    I've thought about trying to build a bike generator. You could just replace the
    rear wheel of an old bike with a motor, add an energy storage/AC inverter box,
    and presto, you'd have free power (and get good exercise too).

    When I learned how much power can be generated by a human body though,
    I got discouraged. For instance, a super-fit, Tour de France-caliber bicyclist
    can sustain about 400 watts over several hours. But even that would barely
    be enough to run the portable theater.

    The main problem is the projector, with its super-bright lightbulb. A quick
    google search reveals the average projector consumes about 250 watts. Add
    a sound system and factor in generator inefficiencies, and you'd probably
    need Lance Armstrong to power this thing. And he'd be pretty tired by the
    end of the film.

    For the average "fit" adult, you could count on around 150 to 200 watts being
    available (after inefficiencies, maybe 100 watts). So you could power the
    theater with three or four such riders, or maybe 6-7 kids. The effort would be
    similar to riding a real bike (with wind resistance) at about 20mph for a few
    hours...

And here's what local alternative energy guru Dave Strenski had to say:

    Human powered generators would be the best option for safety and 'coolness'
    but can be expensive…

    If I'm reading your mind correctly, this is what you want.

    You can find DIY plans for bike generators here, here, here, and here.

    You can also buy finished bike stands here or here.

    Keep in mind that a healthy/fit person can produce about 100 watts of power
    for maybe 30 minutes. I think you would need 10 to 20 bikes plus a line of
    would-be pedelers. Each bike would have it's own small battery to smooth out
    the power coming from the bike and to handle people switching riders. All the
    power would then be collected behind the screen (some place safe) and
    combined and sent to an inverter to convert the DC power to AC to run the
    projector.

    Sounds like a great event, but would be costly to put on. Maybe you could sell
    the bike stands after the show to recover some of the costs. I could see
    people sitting on the Riverside Park's sledding hill watching a movie with a
    line of bikes in back...

And then there's my friend Eric, who suggests that maybe we just have people bring their own bikes. Or, better yet, we scrap the idea of bikes altogether. He suggests we locate some old paddleboats and create recumbent pedal-power stations. And, as I'm not an engineer, I'm not sure that his would work, but he also seems to think that maybe we could do it with one big crankshaft, where everyone worked together to feed a single generator. I was skeptical, but he reminded me that 3-person bikes exist. So, maybe he's on to something.

So, let's say we want to do this – is it possible to do it now, this spring? As I see it, we'd need at least three working groups to pull it off. One to handle the math, engineering and implementation. One to handle the pr, marketing and fundraising. And one to handle the logistics, permits, etc.

My guess, just looking at the notes from Paul and Dave, is that we could probably do it with 14 bikes, if we had a constant stream of fresh riders to rotate in. I know that we could get 14 used bikes donated. I even suspect that we could find someone here in Ypsi to contribute space to store them and work on them. And, if we're lucky, I bet we could even find some local mechanical types to help us put all the pieces together. So, all we'd really need to do is raise money for the motors and City's $100 fee. My friend Homeless Dave just built out a system in his house (see his video further down) and I suspect he'd be willing to help us cost everything out.

Another approach that may be worth considering is getting a number of local businesses, not-for-profits, high school classes, social groups, neighborhood associations and the like to each sponsor a bike. We could give them the plans, and help them out, but they would each be responsible for getting the bike there on the day of the event, having it staffed with riders, etc. It could be pretty cool.

So, here's the question… Am I stupid to think that this might be possible? Is it unreasonable to think that we can get 20 bike riders to rotate in and out for the duration of a two-hour movie? Is the cost of 14 or more motors going to be too much?

I don't know. There are a lot of components and a lot of unanswered questions. It's exponentially more complicated than something like the Shadow Art Fair, but I think it might be worth it. (I'll tell you more about the Shadow Art Fair in my next post.)

How cool would it be to get something like this off the ground? And, once it's up and running, there's no reason it couldn't be done on a regular basis. (Unless we follow Dave's advice and sell the bikes afterward, which is also a good idea.)

Once all the pieces are together, we could break everything out several times a year if we wanted to. We could even use the bikes to generate energy for other events. We could run the PA at the annual Heritage Festival. We could use it to power the lights at other city-sponsored events. We could even keep them somewhere, like at the Senior Center, for people to charge their phones and laptops with…

I'm sure there are other things that need to be said, but I'm going to leave you now with Homeless Dave's video on bike power while I start my letter to Al Gore (inviting him to Ypsi to show An Inconvenient Truth in the park). Watch it, imagine the possibility of what I've laid out here, and let me know whether or not you'd be interested in helping out. Or, better yet, come on out and have a beer with me this Friday, April 18, at the Corner Brewery. A few of us will be there at 7:00pm, talking about the project.

Post No. 1

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 13:54:40 GMT

Hello, my name is Mark and I'm an Ypsilantian…

I lived in Ann Arbor for a while. Then I moved.

I met my wife in Ypsilanti, at a bar that's since been condemned. The place was called Cross Street Station, and my band, Prehensile Monkey-Tailed Skink, was playing there. Unlike everyone else, Linette didn't run screaming. Linette's her name. And that was more than 15 years ago now.

Before that night, I'd only been to Ypsilanti once. My friend Dave drove me out to Ypsi from Ann Arbor, where we were in college together. It pains me to say it, but our objective was to buy as much really crude porn as we could carry. Our roommate Jack's parents were coming to visit, and we wanted to make a good impression.

I'm not proud of it, but that's the truth.

Anyway, we headed out to Ypsi in search of inhumanly crude filth, and we weren't disappointed. We found a bookstore with a dilapidated cardboard box full of "used" porn magazines for a few bucks a piece. Until I met Linette, that's all I knew of Ypsi – porn and rock-n-roll. I'd heard there were drugs and prostitutes there too, but, as an Eagle Scout with a propensity for panic attacks, I wasn't all that adventurous. Then, I met Linette in '93, and the love affair with Ypsi began in earnest. The more I learned about the City's rich and bizarre history, and the characters that called it home, the more I wanted to be a part of it.

I've now lived off and on in Ypsi for about a decade and a half. Linette and I tried to leave on a few occasions, but something always kept pulling us back. First, we tried Atlanta. I'd lived there for a few years as a kid and had fond memories of it, but, as a grown up, I found that it kind of sucked. We lasted there about two and a half years before coming back.

Then, after a short detour to DC, Linette and I moved to LA. We were there for about a year when we decided to pack our stuff, drive back across country, and settle for good in Ypsi. We were beginning to think seriously about houses and babies (actually, just one house, and one baby), and, when we thought about places we'd like to put down roots, the only place that came to mind was Ypsi.

There was something about Ypsi that just called to us. I can't speak for Linette, but, for me, it was the authentic sense of community I got on Saturday mornings, sitting around the potbelly stove at the Freighthouse, drinking coffee and watching people of all ages and races, dancing around to the sounds of banjos and guitars. There was a real sense of family, and a feeling that we were all in it together. Maybe I'm a sap, but I fell for it.

I'm generally a "glass half empty" kind of guy. But, when it comes to Ypsi, I can't do it. Where others see decay, I see a spirit of resilience. And I'm not alone. I know it puzzles some Ann Arborites to hear this, but there are quite a few of us who don't live here because we have to, but because we want to. There's a sense of community here that I've never felt elsewhere. People with ideas and energy are welcomed and encouraged. Maybe it's because there's little infrastructure, but there aren't a lot of barriers to participation. If you have a good idea and you come to Ypsilanti, you'll find people eager to join you.

I'm not anti-Ann Arbor. I like Ann Arbor. I lived there for several years, and I have quite a few friends who still do. I might give them a hard time over beers about the number of Starbucks that are downtown now, but I do like Ann Arbor. As the father of a three year old, I look at their school system with a great deal of envy. Ann Arbor, given the economic engine of the University of Michigan, has cultural assets that we in Ypsi could never hope to have. But, then again, because Ann Arbor is only a few miles away, we don't necessarily need to.

And I would argue that Ann Arbor's success hasn't come without a price. The cost of doing business there is relatively high. And, as a result, there's homogenization happening. Where there was once Drake's sandwich shop, there's now Jimmy Johns and Potbelly. And to add insult to injury, the Potbelly Sandwich Shop, stands where the once influential Discount Records used to. There's no sign to mark it, or draw attention to the fact that Iggy Pop, the godfather of punk rock, and favorite son of Ypsilanti, once worked there, but that's where it was.

There's still a hell of a lot of interesting stuff going on – don't get me wrong – but I'd suggest that the momentum is headed in the opposite direction. Take for example the Tech Center. The Tech Center, which used to be home to dozens of Ann Arbor artists, was not so long ago bulldozed to make space for an upscale Y. I know people love the Y, but it didn't come without a cost. Many of those artists, priced out of Ann Arbor, have left. And, I'd argue, that Ypsilanti, where many of them are landing, is coming out on top.

We may not have the Royal Shakespeare Company, but I'd argue that Ypsilanti has more to offer than the strippers and meth dealers that might first come to some of your minds. Ypsilanti isn't just one thing. As my friend Caleb says, "It's also quiet neighborhoods, homemade parade floats and crazy millionaires." His theory is that Ypsilanti is odd because it's stayed complex and layered while the Detroit metro region is full of places that are easily labeled as affluent or poor, urban or suburban, etc. Ypsilanti continues to defy labels. Virtually every demographic of Metro-Detroit's 5 million person region can be found in the 4.5 square miles and 22,000 people of Ypsilanti.

I suspect he's right, but what most appeals to me about Ypsi is the indomitable will to create and shake things up. Ypsi churns out American iconoclasts like other towns crap out gated McMansion communities. Iggy Pop was raised here. Preston Tucker, the automotive maverick who took on the big guys in Detroit, was from here. Early animator Winsor McCay got his start here. Elijah McCoy, one of the most famous black inventors of the 20th Century, was from here. There's a spirit of, "Fuck it, I can do it better," in the air. It's palpable. If you get out of your car, you can feel it.

Ypsi, in my opinion, by suffering financially since the end of World War II, has dodged a bullet. And it wasn't by choice. Our downtown wasn't overrun by national chains, not because we fought them, but because they didn't want us. The question now is, how will we navigate what's coming, because growth is clearly coming. How will we keep the unique character of our downtown? It's occurred to me to fight the chains. I'm told there's a town in Oregon that's passed a law requiring local ownership of businesses. I think that's probably a good thing in the long term. Locally-owned businesses put more money into their regional economies, and tend to stay when times get tough. They don't, like Pfizer, pick up and leave when profits are down (in spite of all the economic incentives that have been given them over the years).

But, the tax base in Ypsilanti, where 25% of our population lives in poverty, is eroding. We need tax dollars to keep our police on the street, our fire engines running, and our public parks open. Given that reality, I've mellowed a bit. I wouldn't be enthusiastic about a Starbucks on Michigan Avenue, but I doubt that I'd picket one. I'd just hope that it got people to stop their cars, feel that palpable sense of "Fuck it, I can do better" that's in the air, and give one of our local stores a chance.

And, of course, I'd wish that it would go out of business quickly.

I'll be here all week.

Post No. 4: Dave Lewinski

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 00:17:07 GMT

David Lewinski grew up in metro Detroit. He has attended Wayne State University and the Hallmark Institute of Photography (Turners Falls, MA) in order to gain a better understanding of what it takes to be a photographer. It has been his honor to assist photographers Balthazar Korab and Justin Maconochie. In addition to regularly contributing to Hour Detroit Magazine he has worked for Metro Times, Real Detroit Weekly, Detroit Home, and DBusiness.

He is the managing photographer for Concentrate.

How I See It

On occasion I run into an former classmate when I am working out-of-state. We always start out with a synopsis of what we've each been doing since high school. The inevitable question always arises; "Why did you stay in Michigan?".

As a young person in the creative field I also get this question asked by fellow photographers in different markets. They all seem to assume that there are better options elsewhere. I find myself frequently defending my decision to stay.

I can tell you I stayed for many reasons: I enjoy the challenge. I love my family and my roots are already planted here. I love vacationing in northern Michigan. Southeast Michigan is an easy place to network, which is essential to have in my career.

So what does Ann Arbor and its surrounding areas have to offer me? That is how my generation tends to think; 'what do I get out of this deal?'. Having lived in southeast Michigan almost all my life I feel I have a pretty good idea what I 'get' from residing here.

There are many hurdles to jump in Michigan right now but I love the challenge. It's one of the primary reasons I have become a photographer --the daily challenge. Whether it's a tight editorial deadline or difficult lighting situations or figuring out my taxes, I am constantly tested by my job. Getting Concentrate off the ground was a particularly unique challenge (I haven't ever had anyone ask me to make convincing images of so many different places in the middle of a Michigan winter).

As the grey ceiling begins to lift and the sun just doesn't peak out but begins to warm, the people return to the streets. Offering a fresh perspective of Ann Arbor area is one of the most important things I'd like to address in my photography. I'd like to show our community for what it really is. We aren't always perceived by people outside the county as the most down-to-earth people. We're seen more Bohemian than bourgeois. I'd like my images to counter that perception.

It's a substantial responsibility to capture what is actually happening in a community. Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti have all the great qualities of college towns ...and that is typically how they are represented. I'd like to get past that. My goal is to show you things in the city you've passed countless times before but never really noticed: The people, the neighborhoods and the green spaces.

I was afforded this very same experience when I was asked to photograph in Dexter, Chelsea, Saline and Milan. They all have so much to offer that I had never noticed before. I'm hoping you will see something new and UNEXPECTED on Concentrate.

When I am out taking photos in the Ann Arbor area, I see how much is actually happening here. I would rather be part of something that is happening instead of something that has already happened. That's the great thing about this region, there's still some work to do but there is a terrific infrastructure.

Michigan offers a wide variety of perks for staying and the Ann Arbor area is amongst the best places to take advantage of them.

Post No. 3: Jeff Meyers

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 12:16:35 GMT

Jeff Meyers is the managing editor of Concentrate and it's sister publication, Metromode. He is also a film critic for Detroit's Metro Times.

Before moving to Michigan in 2003, Jeff was the Creative Director for StageDirect, an Internet start-up out of Portland, OR and freelance writer. Before that he spent 11 years working as a microbiologist. Jeff lives in Ann Arbor with his wife Arden and two sons, Nate and Sam.

Everyone has their narrative. Magazines, talk shows, cable news networks, elected officials. Everyone tells the story they think needs to be told.

To GQ, men's fashion is all that really matters. For Rolling Stone and Spin, music and pop culture are king. Watch ten minutes of The Food Channel and it's pretty clear what narrative their committed to.

Even your Mom has her own narrative. (Ask her to recount a fight she had with you when you were a teen and see how different two narratives can be.)

So what is Michigan's narrative?

To read the daily papers or listen to the radio or watch local TV it's crime and job loss and home foreclosures. And, yes, those are a big part of our story. Today.

But it's not the only story.

And it's not the story Concentrate is interested in telling. We figure those topics are pretty well covered.

Instead, we're interested in talking about where things are going and who will get us there. We want to put the focus on the people, policies and ideas that'll shape our region's future.

Just as the Weather Channel believes weather matters, Concentrate believes place matters.

And so our narrative is focused on how the Ann Arbor area is evolving in terms of entrepreneurship, smart urban growth, high-tech innovation, leadership and culture.

And while we certainly write about specific people and companies, their individual successes aren't as important to us as the ripples their ideas and efforts make --what they represent and what they say about the direction of our community.

See, it's not really about writing "positive" news stories. It's about reporting substantively on issues that move our region forward. What are the industries that will keep our economy healthy and vital? What are the innovations that will evolve the way we work, live and grow? What are the quality of life policies that will attract new generations to our community and encourage them to stay?

Sometimes it means Concentrate will write about a small nanotech company's growth. Sometimes it means we'll define the challenges to developing sound mass transit. Or even debunking arguments against it.

From green building to alternative energy to building a creative class, we want to focus on the solutions that not only make Washtenaw County better today but lay the groundwork for a better tomorrow.

As a transplant from the Pacific-Northwest, many of these topics are near and dear to my heart. It's been fascinating and exciting for me to watch Michigan discuss, experiment with, and improve upon policies and lifestyles I accepted as the norm in Seattle and Portland ...and evolve standards and practices both those cities still struggle to nurture (higher education and tech transfer immediately come to mind). I can't tell you how much I look forward to being a part of this conversation -reporting on and learning about the community I now call home.

I not only hope you'll continue reading, but also feel encouraged to tell Concentrate about the neighbors you know, companies you do business with and initiatives you support that are innovating our community, economy and environment.

Post No. 1: Paul Schutt

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 00:18:14 GMT

Paul Schutt is the co-founder of Issue Media Group, a Detroit based media company that has created online magazines: Model D and metromode in Detroit, PopCity in Pittsburgh, Rapid Growth in Grand Rapids, Capital Gains in Lansing and Soapbox in Cincinnati.

In 2004, Paul sold the company he co-founded and led for 10 years, The Collective, an online marketing and web development firm that provided solutions to companies such as, Ford Motor Company, the U.S. Open, the SuperBowl, General Motors and many others.

Mr. Schutt also co-founded Cleveland based, Easy2 Technologies in 1999. He currently serves on many public and private sector advisory boards.

Paul is a native of Michigan and currently lives in Ann Arbor with his wife Megan and son Oliver.

Choosing to live in Michigan has been a subject that has caused a lot of tension for me.

The tension is…should I stay and be part of the next generation that is re-imagining and creating what’s next for Michigan, or should I leave and go to a place like NYC where I can plug into a scene that appears to be ready made for me?

I have decided to stay and be part of what’s next…

Issue Media Group creates weekly online magazines like Concentrate that changes the conversation about what is next.

Traditional media has made a business out of "loss" – unemployment, fire, murder and crime are all well covered.

Concentrate is making a business out of "growth" - growing companies, investments in our cities and the thought leaders that are creating an authentic sense of place.

Brian Boyle, Deepa Ramsinghani (my business partners) and I created a media company that hires journalists, photographers and filmmakers to help us raise the profile of the people and the stories behind what is next for the community.

If you are familiar with Fast Company magazine, you don’t read it to figure out who is going out of business. You read Fast Company to see what’s next in business. We are bringing that type of media coverage to the Ann Arbor area.

You don’t read us to find out who is going out of business– you read us to see what’s next.

I don’t want to discount the value of muckraking and the coverage of crime and scandal. This type of media coverage often brings transparency and results in positive change. But doom and gloom seems to be dominating the narrative for our communities.

The current narrative for Michigan doesn’t work for me, so I am working to change it.

Post No. 2: Newcombe Clark

Wed, 02 Apr 2008 23:02:21 GMT

Newcombe Clark is 27 years old and a partner in Bluestone Realty Advisors, a commercial real estate brokerage and consulting firm based in Ann Arbor Michigan. He graduated from the University of Michigan with a BA in Japanese Language and Culture and a BSE in Mechanical Engineering. He serves on multiple boards and committees in the Ann Arbor area, including the Ann Arbor Area Chamber of Commerce, Michigan Theater Foundation, Dance Gallery Foundation, University of Michigan Museum of Art, Cool Cities Task Force, Citizens Advisory Council for the Downtown, and the Main Street Area Association.

Newcombe is the publisher of Concentrate.

Just what is it we have in Washtenaw County that makes us here at Concentrate feel inspired and hopeful in what are surely challenging times? Why can we here in this community feel a buoyancy, or even an ability to surf, above the waves of a churning ocean of depressing news and dire economic forecasts?

We're optimists sure, and we tend to believe so are our readers. Yet we're not throwing a pep rally for a team we know will lose the big game. We are not delusional in our unwavering commitment—our very obsession—to our weekly examination of the fundamental aspects of our character that guarantee our current, future, and lasting success. In the people, projects, and ideas that define our community, Concentrate sees the best in us. We see progress over withdrawal, growth over loss, and hope over fear.

So why is the news these days so glum? We perpetually ask the skeptical, as well as ourselves, just what is it we don't have here that if reclaimed, or obtained, would take us back to rosier times when the headlines weren't so depressing. In our work and in our lives we see new companies growing and hiring. We see developers investing. We see the arts and cultural community advancing. We do not see deficiency. We do not see a community willing to just lie down and let bad news define and thereby destroy us.

It's true, Michigan of today as a whole does have significant challenges. Ones that are unfortunately in many cases more culturally indoctrinated and self-fulfilling than anything shifting markets or global economic forces has imposed upon us. But when one looks closely on the micro level of our greater Ann Arbor area one sees an ecosystem teaming with all the organisms and environmental characteristics that will lead us to a higher state of economic evolution and sustainable diversification.

Concentrate is a celebration not of what we need, but of what we already have. Each week you will read of multiple new economy jobs posted by fast growing and innovative companies. You'll learn of the people that are neither successful in spite of our economy, nor unique in that success. They are remarkable simply because our community attracts and retains the remarkable. What we have concentrated in this community is inspiration for Michigan, not desperation. Washtenaw County will lead as a shining example of what our state (and even the nation) can achieve when you bring together the amazing and let them naturally do the incredible. We need nothing new but a renewed exuberance in that which makes us special.

Post No. 5

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 00:00:00 GMT

Giving Back to Metro

You’ve listened to all the pleas and seen all the advantages and you’ve decided to stay in Metro Detroit. You live in a beautiful home, have a successful career with a promising future, and you’re dating that perfect someone, all before turning 35. You are the creative class and through whatever effort, or divine intervention, you have been attracted and/or retained. Now it’s time to give something back.

Philanthropy is not just a means for the wealthy and privileged to assuage their guilt for being wealthy and privileged. It doesn’t take a check book, gray hair, and a black-tie to make a real difference in Michigan’s social and cultural non-profits. As a young person you have something equally as important as money, and perhaps even more critical. You have your time.

Earlier in the week I pointed out how valuable your labor capital was. Unencumbered by the responsibilities or accountability of the older, there is a lot you can do with the potential 80+ hours of labor capital you may have in any given week. A donation of your time to a not for profit has a valuation just as tangible as a donation of cash or an in-kind service may have.

I know the idea of donating your Saturday to pick up trash on the highway or read to strays at the Human Society sounds like something a court would order. For those I ask that you approach the time you donate much like you would approach the hours you spend at work. You don’t type out your e-mails with the end of your pencil or make copies of important documents with an egg of silly putty. Make your contribution to a non-profit as efficient and as measured as your rock it in your professional life. Volunteer to serve on a board or committee.

You would be surprised how easy it is to have a profound impact with your new ideas and your youthful energy. Most boards I know are hungry for some new blood and committed change. As our state’s population ages at an even more accelerated rate than the rest of America, it is critical that non-profits, like companies, are prepared for the dramatic shift in demographics. Your time spent at the conference table will plant seeds of change. Throughout your tenure those seeds will blossom and bring to fruition the tools and business practices that will guarantee the survival of institutions that helped shape and define Michigan since its inception.

All those museums, theaters, those social support and advocacy groups that keep the quality of life going where the government and private sector fail, all those will die with their current donor base in a few decades or less if the young don’t step up to steward direction and establish relevance to the next generation of givers and appreciators.

When you serve on a board what you get in return beyond the feeling that you did something moral good and right is the opportunity to showcase your unique talent to others older and more successful than your current network of contacts or business associates. When you serve on a board you show everyone else around the table just what kind of work you can do and how beneficial that labor capital could potentially be to their companies in their own arenas.

The quickest shortcut to the chairman’s office in your own job is having powerful and influential allies and customers singing your praise due to your astounding performance on the board which they serve on with you. I’m a real estate salesman who serves on over a half dozen non-profit boards and commissions. My fellow board members just happen to be presidents and CEOs who have turned out to be some of my best customers and professional contacts over the years. Who said altruism is dead.

Post No. 4

Tue, 11 Dec 2007 00:00:00 GMT

Playing Metro

Perhaps the largest criticism levied against staying in Michigan through your twenties has nothing to do with housing or employment. For some, it’s the social aspects to quality of life where we as a region drop the biggest creative class ball. There is no one to date, no where to take said date, and nothing to do once there. Apparently in comparison to bigger cities, we live in a vast cultural wasteland—void of both adequate mates and substantive entertainment.

As a child born and raised in Ann Arbor, attitudes such as these are perhaps one of the more perplexing arguments for flight for me to understand. In this little, big city dominated by the cultural, economic, and social powerhouse of the University of Michigan, those native born never lacked or wanted for numerous options for artistic and creative opportunities. The public school system here guaranteed that, like it or not, every young child would be bused or marched seasonally to at least an opera, a symphony, multiple museums, and the botanical gardens. Furthermore, most in this town were wealthy enough to vacation broadly with their parents from an early age. If not, the school foreign language departments and countless other service organizations made sure that most kids graduated high school with at least a few stamps in their passports. My friends who were raised similarly in Oakland and other well-off areas often claim similar upbringings.

What’s ironic is that it is perhaps by the very nature of this availability of culture—the abundance of art and metropolitan lifestyle in Southeastern Michigan—that has contributed to the exodus of the young, affluent and educated. It is an oblivious princess syndrome—where having been locked in our richly appointed tower most of ours lives we fail to realize just how great we have had it.

I hear from those who did leave a few years ago that things aren’t necessarily as great as they had imagined. Life in a big city is hard. Apparently it’s not that easy to take in all the shows, exhibits, bars, and available singles when half your meager income goes to pay rent in an apartment you’re too busy with work to ever even see. I hear of loneliness at not being able to meet anybody in a city of millions, of frustration with the inability to buy a favorite food at the corner bodega, of annoyance at having to take a 20 minute subway ride to go work out at an overcrowded gym. They tell me they miss their great lives in Michigan and living in New York as a new adult is certainly not the same as visiting New York as a teenager with their parents and their parent’s money.

I’m sure some that have left are quite happy with their new life away. Yet even though it may be from the inside of the jar looking out, I question the logic of giving up the opportunity to build a life from the start in a state that in reality lacks little when it comes to social assets. Those that come back later in life (as over half do historically) will find that the years spent away don’t necessarily easily transfer into equally earned equity and experience to those that stayed. Make and spend your money here. It will be worth it. For those with wanderlust, the world is only as far away from Detroit as a plane ticket, a free weekend, and the desire to explore.

Post No. 3

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 00:00:00 GMT

Working Metro

My intent with this blog was to continue the prep rally of my first posts and use smarmy metaphors and self-effacing, yet at the same time self-congratulating, anecdotes that would spin a fable of how great it is to work in Metro Detroit. That was my intent, until I realized that there was no pulling the wool over the eyes of all of us who are suffering through the frigid reality of our current economy.

So here it goes. No hype, no promotion, the simple truth when it comes to working in this area. And that truth is that if you are young and if you stay in Michigan to start your career you are taking a great risk with your future. Life isn’t easy. Life is hard, and there isn’t anything here in the water that guarantees a life of success over living anywhere else.

I probably don’t need to tell that times are quite hard right now in the Mitten. The economy is a mess, unemployment is high, and the government is deadlocked. It is no wonder we are experiencing an unprecedented drain of youth across the borders. I saw the movie, a lot of people got off the Titanic safely before it finally went down.

Young people in this region are gambling with an important time in their life. We invest a huge amount of labor capital in a market undefined and uncertain. Well, guess what, that’s what we’re supposed to be doing at this point in our life. Without great risk there can be no great reward. Getting something for nothing is something little children and people currently under federal investigation tend to believe. You want to be richer? You want more success, prestige, a greater feeling of self worth and achievement? Do you want to look out from the great porch of your life and know that you acted wisely on every opportunity to do so? Then take a chance and stay here.

It has been my experience over the past eight years of working in Michigan that business rewards only one thing greater than taking risks, and that is loyalty. If you stick it out, if you make an honest and committed effort to give all you have to a state that needs so much, you will be rewarded. There are fewer of us here everyday, leaving the potential future spoils less divided and easier to obtain. As one comment to my first post pointed out very well, it’s a shorter distance to that corner office when half the chairs between you and it are empty.

So take a chance. The worse thing that could happen is that you risk it all, fail, and still have the vast majority of your working life to learn from your valuable mistakes as you rebuild an even greater empire. Fortunes are made out of adversity not complacency. We will be back on top one day soon. Historically Michigan has been one of the wealthiest states in our great country. Why be so quick to run from this once in a lifetime opportunity to share in the legacy of that greatness?

Post No. 2

Fri, 07 Dec 2007 00:00:00 GMT

Living Metro

Being young and living in and around the D can offer much in the way of options for housing. Whether you’re high styling it in a lux-downtown high-rise, getting gritty with a spacious loft conversation, or attempting to hold on to those fleeting college days as "that guy" squatting in a campus frat, nobody here judges where you choose to go to lay your head and play with your toys. We’re all pioneers together in this wild-west of a down-turned state. Rents are cheap and the fact that our population hasn’t been moving in the right direction over the past few decades has all but guaranteed a housing stock as diverse as its residents. That’s not to say that perfect place is always easy to find for the young and credit-risky. Some places are expensive and not every community is hip yet to just what it is we may be looking for.

I know when I first graduated out of Michigan I was faced with the daunting, expensive, and nerve-wracking task of trying to find that perfect Ann Arbor living arrangement. I wanted a home that spoke to my new lifestyle, not as a student at the U, but as a townie in the ‘Deuce’. I no longer wanted to share a dilapidated house with six dudes and a sticky ping-pong table, nor did I want to hovel it alone in a non-descript one bedroom near TGIFridays.

I searched far and wide in my price range and only came up with places where "furnished" meant mantel displays of Absolute bottles soaking highlighters or places where the recently arrived, divorced, or foreclosed go to make loud noises in the night and cook curry. Dejected and emasculated by my failure to seek shelter, I moved back in with my mother and for the first time realized that this whole 'being an adult' thing wasn’t all that was promised at Commencement.

Fast forward eighteen months and I stumbled upon my dream home through my commercial real estate ramblings in downtown Ann Arbor. The Maison de Liberte, as it would come to be called, is a two-story, 4,000 square foot, Wayne Manor of a loft, perched majestically above an antique bookstore and its own two car attached garage. Built in 1888 as a residence for Ann Arbor’s first professional portrait photographer, it still boasts such bizarre Victorian accoutrements as a ballroom, a game parlor, valet quarters, and crotch-high doorknobs on 12’ high doors (people were apparently shorter back then). With no savings and a job with anything but guaranteed income, I quickly signed a lease and moved the few dishes I could pilfer from my mother’s into my new hardwood kitchen cabinets.

For the first six months in my new place I slept in a sleeping bag and ate my meals cross-legged on the floor, but I still couldn’t help but think about my friends, the chumps, who moved to New York so they could go broke living three deep in a one room studio walk-up in Alphabet City.

And that’s what we have here in Metro Detroit; lots of incredible architecture and depressed real estate prices. It touches on one of the main advantages to living in Michigan as it goes through this transitional time. I’m four odd years now at my home on Liberty Street. While I’ve since bought a bed, a table, and taken on a roommate with a obsessive, and heavy, vinyl collection, it will still take us years to fill the space we have. Our rent is affordable at a fraction of the 1/3 yearly income they say you should spend (closer to ½ income is apparently justifiable in NYC).

Our downtown neighborhood is chockfull of galleries, theaters, restaurants and bars within stumbling distance to our front door. Even our parents and their friends seem to enjoy visiting our apartment more then they like burbing it up in their burbs. But above all that, barely out of school and just starting lives of hopeful promise, my roommate and I are fortunate to have not just a place to crash but to truly have a home.

Living in Detroit today offers our generation the opportunity to start out strong and start out young. Batman can’t fight crime without his cave, and the Hef’s social life would be severely cramped without the Grotto. Why then do so many people flee to bigger cities with expectation of conquering the world while being unable to afford a base of operations better than most European hostels?

It pays to stay here, in so many different ways. Affordable, unique housing is just one of the sharp tools that this region places in the hands of its youth in hopes that they scratch their names deep into the uncertain surface of our future. Next time we will discuss what else we have in our tool belt when it comes to the idea of business and working as a young gun still here.

Post No. 1

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 00:00:00 GMT

It’s amusing that I would be asked to blog on the joys of being a young and ambitious resident of Michigan during not only the first truly cold week of the season but also on the auspicious 27^th anniversary of my birth. I’m expected to write glowingly on the unique experience of being post-grad, yet still pre-fam, while living, working, and playing in a region that some may say is beleaguered to the point of collapse. If there are two things above all else that make most young people question the sanity of their decision to tough it out here through their twenties it is -1) the weather and -2) the somewhat depressing celebration of yet another year that might have been better spent elsewhere.

Just why would someone with a couple of advanced degrees in his pocket, an esoteric name to make, and a whole lot of something to prove choose to stake his claim here, on what some may say is an economic fault line ready to swallow our region down to oblivion? To ask me that question a few years ago I would have told you it was the path of least resistance.

I spent most of college working in real estate to help fund my lofty Mechanical Engineering and Japanese education (I wanted to build Japanese space robots). However upon graduation I was presented with somewhat less lofty career options (they wanted me to design plastic windshield washer fluid reservoirs for minivans). The choice at the time seemed simple and I ended up sticking with the bricks and mortar simply because it kept me above ground and walking with the living.

Now here I am 8 years into the game and still rolling the dice like I’ve got nothing to lose, or perhaps more accurately, everything to lose. I understand I’m painting with a broad brush here, but yes, your twenties are important. It is perhaps one of the few times in your life where you are old enough and educated or skilled enough to invest 100% of your available time and energy into advancing your lot in life. No real burdens are pulling you home at 5:15pm each night and no real worries are keeping you up ‘till 5:15am each morning. You are a dynamo of labor capital, prone to making mistakes from lack of experience sure, but still predisposed to putting in 80+ hours a week at a fraction of the pay of your older co-workers.

Yes, you are important and the companies of tomorrow love you, my new adult friends. They either want to hire you en masse and pay you little or they want access to your seemingly bottomless wallets of disposable income. They want to tap you for your ideas, your creativity, your energy, and your vigor. You add something to the discourse of business ideas, you broaden the cultural dynamic of the work place, and you’re great on the bottom line. Be assured that these companies will take all that you have and only give the bare minimum you need to subsist in return. And this right here, is why young people in Michigan, and especially in Metro Detroit, are holding all the cards in the uncertain poker game of our state’s future.

As a demographic, our numbers are dwindling, leaving the pickings slim for all those that want us so bad. We are the ones in control of our destinies when it comes to the work we want to do and the lives we wish to lead. New York, Chicago, these places are great, but the creative class in these markets is overflowing with 20-somethings from all over the world who come together in pursuit of the same thing. The competition is fierce and opportunities available are limited relative to the labor pool. Believe it or not, here in Detroit the ratios are switched in our favor, with more opportunities than young people to take advantage of them. Over the next week, I will be exploring just what it is to be a twenty-something in Michigan in 2007. We will talk living Metro, working Metro, playing Metro, and, to break the stereotype of my generation being only self-interested, we will even discuss what it means to give back to Metro. It’s great here, and it’s about time we stop bemoaning what we lack and start celebrating where we’re stacked.