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NEWS & VIEWS
“This house means everything to me”
New book Plundered examines predatory governance and the racist policies behind Detroit’s foreclosure crisis
By Bernadette Atuahene
As a law scholar, author, and leader of the Coalition for Property Tax Justice, Bernadette Atuahene studies the impact of systemic racism on homeownership. A 2018 study by Professor Atuahene and Christopher Berry of the Center for Municipal Finance at the University of Chicago estimated that 1 in 10 tax foreclosures in Detroit between 2011 and 2015 were caused by the city’s unconstitutionally high assessments. Twenty-five percent of tax foreclosures of the lowest-valued homes were due to unconstitutional assessments. Professor Atuahene’s new book Plundered: How Racist Policies Undermine Black Homeownership in America (out now by Little, Brown and Company) begins with the following anecdote, which has been edited for length and re-published here with permission.
Ms. Mae, born in 1945 as Anna Mae Jackson, has lived in Detroit her entire life. Distinguished by her soft silver Afro, dark sun-kissed skin, paisley walking stick, and radiant smile, she says she never allows her troubles to steal her joy, and loves “talking spicy” in order to make folks laugh. Ms. Mae most looks forward to the summertime, when she can be out on her spacious porch chatting with her neighbors for hours on end.
“I’ve been in this house for fifty years,” Ms. Mae explained from her customary seat on the porch. “At one time I didn’t feel safe ’cause somebody climbed in my bedroom window. It was morning time, in broad open daylight. I was sitting up here in the front room and when I looked up and seen this man standing in my hallway, I started shooting at him. He left the sole of his shoe in my bed, and he went out through the alley.” In 1970, when Ms. Mae first moved in, there was an icehouse behind her property that attracted significant foot traffic and all manner of people from outside the area, including the intruder. Ms. Mae continued, “But since then, I’ve had no problems and feel safe in my house.”
Despite the slow decline of the American auto industry and the economic chaos that this brought to Detroit’s door-
step, Ms. Mae’s community has remained vibrant for much of the fifty-plus years she has resided there. Today, however, her neighborhood — once full of conversation partners, warmth, and verve — has become desolate. There are now twice as many vacant lots overgrown with brush as occupied homes. An outside observer might reasonably come to the conclusion that a devastating fire visited the block, or a capricious tornado tore away some homes and left others standing. But the blight that has eviscerated Ms. Mae’s neighborhood, and indeed much of Detroit, is a man-made disaster, one with a surprising cause: illegally inflated property taxes.
One study found that between 2009 and 2015, the City of Detroit inflated the market value of 53 to 84 percent of its homes, violating the Michigan Constitution’s rules for calculating property taxes. Additionally, a Detroit News investigation found that between 2010 and 2016, the City of Detroit overtaxed homeowners by at least $600 million. And of the 63,000 Detroit homes with delinquent tax debt in 2019, the City overtaxed about 90 percent of them. Systematic overtaxation has caused an enormous transfer of wealth from homeowners in this majority-Black city to government coffers.
Though the City of Detroit overvalued Ms. Mae’s home for years and her low income qualified her for an exemption from paying property taxes altogether, Ms. Mae had no way of knowing these things. Nowhere on the official property tax notice mailed to homeowners does it tell them how to determine the market value the City has assigned to their home. The City also did not advertise the exemption, and even when low-income homeowners did find out about it, the City blocked access by erecting unnecessary barriers.
It is then no surprise that Ms. Mae and thousands of other cash-strapped residents could not pay their property taxes. Three years after a homeowner fails to pay off all property taxes, fines, fees, and interest for any particular year, the County places the dreaded yellow bag on their door, announcing the home’s impending
tax foreclosure to all passersby. Ms. Mae had not paid her 2018 property tax debt, so she had a yellow bag attached to her door in 2020, warning that she was in danger of tax foreclosure in 2021. Seeing it, she prayed, “Lord, don’t make me lose my house.” Ms. Mae then said, “I hurried up and snatched it off so didn’t nobody see it because I didn’t want them to know I hadn’t paid my taxes. Then, as I looked down the street, everybody had them on their houses. It made me feel a little relieved, but I still had to pay my taxes some kind of way.”
Since unfairly calculated property taxes disproportionately affect Detroit’s most depressed neighborhoods, yellow bags dangling on these doors in October have become as common as Christmas lights hanging from roofs in December. Detroit has had more property tax foreclosures than any other American city since the Great Depression. As of 2009, the local government has confiscated one in three homes, robbing over a hundred thousand families of wealth, stability, and the relationships they have developed with neighbors over decades. Detroit’s number of Black homeowners in 1970 was 41 percent above the national rate, but today the local government is robbing residents of the wealth their predecessors fought hard to acquire and pass down. This exacerbates the already-severe racial wealth gap: in 2022, the median white family held $285,000 in wealth, and this number was $61,600 for Hispanic families, and only $44,900 for Black families.
Ms. Mae’s experience exemplifies this trend. To become homeowners, her parents, Sam and Ida Jackson, had to sidestep several pitfalls that commonly prevented Blacks from purchasing homes in the twentieth century. Now, in the twenty-first century, property tax injustice threatens to rob Ms. Mae of her shingled legacy.
The Jackson family’s homeownership journey began when Sam and Ida, childhood sweethearts from rural Georgia, wed as teenagers in 1930. Because Sam’s uncle and granduncle had both education and land, white vigilantes murdered
them for being uppity and not knowing their place, hanging them in their front yard to send a ruthless message to other Blacks. With the compliance of religious, political, and other societal leaders, whites lynched about thirty-five hundred Blacks in the United States between 1895 and 1968. Because Southern whites routinely lynched Blacks for defying their subordinate position in society, and afterward sat down for dinner with their families, praying over their food, in 1937, Sam gathered his bride; his only brother, Johnny; and his family and drove to Detroit, never looking back. The Jackson family joined millions of other African Americans escaping the South’s racial terrorism to head North, hoping to secure dignity and lucrative jobs in Detroit’s auto industry.
To accommodate their thirteen-person extended family, the brothers rented a three-bedroom house on Brewster Street in a bustling Black community known as the Hastings Street neighborhood. “That’s where all the happening was at. The prostitutes, the pimps, the shows,” Ms. Mae said. “You had the colored grocery store, the Dave and Ms. Queen grocery store. You had Louie’s grocery store. You had a shoeshine shop on the corner. Then Victor’s had the clothing store. We had the movie theater. We had the bars. We had a skating rink up over the grocery store. We had Brewster Recreation Center there with a swimming pool and the best women basketball champions that came out of it.” As the memories overtook her, Ms. Mae paused for a long moment. “It was nice.”
Despite the fact that Hastings Street was a neighborhood rich in social cohesion, a place where people looked out for one another and neighbors became chosen family, outsiders viewed it as a slum. This was because both the federal government and financial institutions designated these Black communities as high credit risks, drawing red lines around them on their official maps. This process, later known as redlining, prevented the inflow of financial services like mortgages, insurance, and home improvement loans. Without the funds to invest in upkeep, dilapidated buildings and other squalid conditions inevitably resulted.
But for Ms. Mae, Hastings Street was not a slum. It was home. It was the place where she grew up, attended school, found her first love, and experienced her first heartbreak when he left her for another woman. While Ms. Mae was nursing her broken heart, Walter, the next-door neighbor with two grown children, began courting her. They fell in love. After six months of dating, they married, and because Walter was forty-five years old and Ms. Mae was only nineteen, Sam and Ida were furious when
they found out.
“They didn’t like him cause he was nasty talking. He ain’t have no respect for nobody. What come up, come out,” Ms. Mae described. “They knew him from years back, from on the streets. He called himself being half pimp.” After a long pause, she continued, “Yeah, he was a humdinger.”
Before the nuptials, local authorities announced their urban renewal program, which would bulldoze the Hastings Street community to construct the Interstate 75 Chrysler Expressway. By the time construction finished in 1964, the Hastings Street neighborhood — with all its valuable, time-worn relationships, social capital, and dynamic businesses — had vanished. Blacks relocated to homes and apartments in the inner-city neighborhoods that whites were fleeing. Suburban communities were off-limits due to racial covenants: legal agreements created by homeowners and developers that prohibited Blacks from occupying certain homes.
“Everybody had to move, and so they found this house I am in now out here on Devine Street in 1965 and paid nine thousand five hundred dollars for it,” Ms. Mae explained. “My father always had a new car, but this was the first time they bought a house.” The house, built in 1923 on the City’s east side, was a one-anda-half-story bungalow covered in white wood shingles, with four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, and one half bathroom. The home’s most prized features were its capacious porch, which extended the entire length of the home, and the enclosed garage, where Sam parked his treasured Buick Wildcat, a two-door gray beauty.
Like Sam, most of the breadwinners on his new street worked in the auto industry. Although Blacks and whites worked side by side on assembly lines, it was uncommon for them to live next door to each other, so Ida and Sam were only the second Black family on the block. “Mr. Fred and Ms. Fanny, they were the Italians next door. Mary and Bill across the street, they was hillbillies. Mr. Summa and them, they was Italian,” Ms. Mae remembered. “They were all white, but they were different denominations of countries.” There was never racial tension between the Black newcomers and white old-timers on the block. Everyone got along swimmingly.
Nevertheless, when more Black homeowners started buying in the neighborhood, real estate agents and other intermediaries began convincing white homeowners that the arrival of their Black neighbors would tank their home values in a phenomenon called blockbusting. This prompted the white families to sell quickly and at fire-sale prices. The intermediaries then sold those homes to Blacks at a significant
markup, securing morally questionable profits. As a result, although the Jacksons were only the second Black family on the block, within five years, there was only one white family left.
Detroit’s 1967 Uprising — one of
twentieth-century America’s largest civil disturbances — caused many remaining white home and business owners to desert the city, further depleting the tax base and economically crippling neighborhoods. “Me and my husband were living
on Parker when the riot started. They was tearing up everything,” Ms. Mae said. “We went home and we was there for about four, five days ’cause we couldn’t get out ’cause of the national guard and everybody was riding through the streets with
Plundered is out now by Little, Brown and Company.
COURTESY PHOTO
their guns and on the army trucks.”
Although whites decamped to the suburbs, Ida and Sam stayed. “They stayed because, at the time, they didn’t have no place to go,” Ms. Mae said. Blacks had very limited housing mobility, so Devine Street became Ms. Mae and her family’s permanent home. “That house means everything to me ’cause my parents bought it for me. They bought it for them, but it was for me because they knew I had to have somewhere to live because my husband wasn’t nothing,” Ms. Mae said. “He was one of them husbands didn’t want to work. He wasn’t paying no bills. He wanted the woman to work to take care of him.”
Five years after purchasing the Devine Street home, Sam died in a car crash. Ms. Mae and her husband left their apartment and moved into the home to care for Ida, whose grief over her husband’s recent death was exacerbating her existing heart condition. Since Ida’s health was quickly deteriorating, she began to worry about how her children would fare if she died. To give them added security, she tried to pay off the home loan, giving the lender, Auer Mortgage, $5,000 in cash, about half of what they had paid for the home five years earlier. Surprisingly, the company told Ida that her bulk payment covered only the mortgage interest and not the principal. Even though Ida knew that this did not make sense, she did not have the resources or specialized knowledge to fight the mortgage company.
Four short months after Ms. Mae and Walter moved in, Ida literally died of a broken heart. Ms. Mae and her cousin Jasper inherited the home on Devine Street. After paying $97 per month, in 1974, they finished paying off the mortgage. Ms. Mae and Jasper did not know that in 1976, the National Bank of Royal Oak filed suit against David Auer, the owner of Auer Mortgage, for mismanaging mortgages that the bank had contracted his company to service. Then, in 1983, Michigan’s attorney general, Frank Kelley, filed a consumer protection lawsuit against Auer Mortgage and a group of other firms. Months later, Auer was found stuffed in the trunk of his Mercedes-Benz, forcing Kelley to drop the investigation. Word on the street was that Auer’s shady dealings had finally caught up with him. Since Auer’s victims never had their day in court, Ms. Mae never even knew about any of this.
Although they were forced to pay off a predatory mortgage loan, Ms. Mae and Jasper owned their inheritance free and clear. But with Walter in the house, they did not feel free. He beat Ms. Mae relentlessly, drew a gun on Jasper, and threatened to burn down the house with both Ms. Mae and Jasper inside. Of all the abuse, Ms. Mae most vividly remembered how Walter humiliated her the night he
took her to an Emanuel Laskey concert on the city’s west side.
Laskey, who was born in 1945 like Ms. Mae, was an African American soul singer known for his 1977 song whose plaintive chorus declared: “I’d rather leave on my feet than live on my knees, darling. I’d rather leave on my feet than continue to live on my knees.”
The lyrics struck a chord with Ms. Mae, describing her bitter marriage better than she could with her own words. Basking in the moment, she began swaying, laughing, and singing along. “I said, ‘Sing Emanuel, sing.’ Next thing I know I got hit upside the head. I couldn’t even enjoy a concert. He said, ‘You don’t be laughing and telling no other goddamn nigga to sing and dance in front of me.’” Walter did not allow Ms. Mae to have even simple joys. She was living in hell.
In 1986, after twenty-four years of marriage, Walter was shot to death. “I did it,” Ms. Mae soberly explained. “He came home and tried to jump on me. I was sitting there watching TV, and he pulled his shotgun to shoot me, and so I got it, and I shot him.” Deflated, she added, “It was either him or me.” In the following weeks, Ms. Mae stood trial for the murder of her husband.
Ms. Mae could only afford a neophyte lawyer, with her case being just the second of his entire career. To finance her defense, she took a $10,000 lien on her home. After a short trial, the jury acquitted her of all charges. It was not, however, until ten years later that she was able to pay off her legal debt and remove the lien.
Walter’s death gave Ms. Mae a new lease on life. But lurking around the corner, waiting to pounce on her, were new tragedies. In 1994, she injured her shoulder while lifting a patient at the nursing home where she worked. Even after the doctors completed major surgery, Ms. Mae still did not have full use of her shoulder. To make matters worse, the following year, when her shoulder was still in a sling, Ms. Mae went down to drain her flooded basement, slipped, and injured her spine. She would never work again.
With scant income, there was no money for the home repairs that the Devine Street home sorely needed. “My roof got holes. My kitchen and bathroom ceiling is leaking. It’s coming down in there. The ceiling fell in the basement from the roof leaking,” she explained. “When the flood came, it messed up my basement, my washer and dryer, and the furnace, and the hot water tank. Now I don’t have hot water. I have to boil it.”
This type of structural deterioration was not affecting Ms. Mae alone. It was happening to homes up and down Devine Street because, for decades, redlining deprived homeowners of access to home repair loans and other capital. Then, during the Great Recession, predatory mortgage
29-February 4, 2025 | metrotimes.com
loans and the accompanying mortgage foreclosure crisis decreased home values in these same redlined areas even further. Consequently, the cost of home repairs often exceeded the home’s value, leaving these homeowners’ children and grandchildren to inherit money pits instead of assets, further undermining intergenerational wealth. After a cost-benefit analysis, many walked away from their ramshackle patrimonies.
As Devine Street has declined, there has been a dramatic rise in the number of vacant, unmowed lots with grass as tall as trees. Although Ms. Mae lives in the middle of the city, it feels more like a forest, and the wild rooster patrolling the neighborhood is proof positive. Several neighbors had complained that this feathered stud was gallivanting through the streets, crowing at full volume in the early-morning hours, climbing and scratching cars with its sharp claws, running through their yards, and wreaking general havoc.
Although Devine Street has transitioned from a bustling area full of people to a desolate place where roosters roam, in 2023 the City of Detroit taxed Ms. Mae’s home as if it were worth $31,200, an amount far higher than it could ever sell for on the open market.
What’s worse is that Ms. Mae’s parents purchased the home in 1965 for $9,500, which, adjusted for inflation, is about $92,500 in 2023 dollars. Instead of increasing, her home’s value decreased. Under normal circumstances, over time, ownership creates wealth because the market value of a home rises and the equity also rises as homeowners pay off their mortgage. Homeowners can pass this wealth to subsequent generations, who gain an advantage when they combine these inheritances with money they are able to generate on their own. This is not how it turned out for Ms. Mae and her neighbors, however.
This is in stark contrast to the suburban communities where Mr. Fred, Ms. Fannie, Mr. Summa, and the other whites who once lived on Devine Street fled in the 1960s. In 2020, the median home value in Grosse Pointe was between $300,000 and $399,999; in Livonia it was between $200,000 and $249,999; in Dearborn it was between $150,000 and $174,999; and in Warren it was between $125,000 and $149,999. Detroit’s median home value, however, was only between $50,000 and $59,999. Racial covenants tucked into the deeds of suburban homes kept Blacks out, denying them the opportunity to live in homes that increased in value over the years instead of decreasing.
Ms. Mae’s story is plagued by several overlapping racist policies—more imprecisely known as structural or systemic racism—which are any written and unwritten laws and processes that produce or sustain
racial inequity. While racist policies such as racial covenants, urban renewal, redlining, blockbusting, predatory mortgage lending, and, most recently, illegally inflated property tax assessments undermined Ms. Mae’s ability to accumulate assets, blame falls on the things that are most visible: the homeowners themselves. That is, due to their own “irresponsibility” or “ignorance,” homeowners are presumed culpable and thus deserving of their hardships. Therefore, the State’s role is to fix the people by providing services like financial management classes or soft-skills training. Meanwhile, racist policies, the true culprit, vanish into the background.
Using data from over eight years of research on the property tax foreclosure crisis in Detroit — including over two hundred interviews with homeowners, real estate investors, and policymakers, as well as participation in a grassroots movement for property tax justice — this book reveals and gives a name to an overlooked but widespread phenomenon: predatory governance, which is when local governments intentionally or unintentionally raise public dollars through racist policies.
Our national conversations about racism accelerated when cell phone footage captured violent images of police officers murdering Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, George Floyd, and other Black people. Plundered seeks to shift the focus of our nation’s racial justice conversation from the physical violence that state agents exert to the less conspicuous but intensely damaging bureaucratic violence that institutions routinely inflict through racist policies like those that have harmed Ms. Mae and her neighbors. The story of Devine Street, the story of Detroit, and indeed the stories of many other cities across the U.S. are, in fact, tales of predatory governance.
Whether it is targeted tickets and fines in Ferguson, abuses of civil forfeiture in Washington D.C., jailing defendants for court debts in New Orleans, or inequitable property taxation in Chicago and a slew of other cities, American cities routinely replenish public accounts by bleeding Black and brown citizens, further widening the racial wealth gap. To bring this national phenomenon to light and give voice to those affected, like Ms. Mae, Plundered unearths and dissects the racist policies undergirding Detroit’s property tax foreclosure crisis.
A book launch event for Plundered features a conversation between Atuahene and Orlando Bailey, executive director of Outlier Media set for 5-6:30 p.m. on Friday, Jan. 31 at Detroit Mercy Law School; 651 E. Jefferson Ave., Detroit. Tickets are available from eventbrite.com for $34.45 and include a copy of the book.
NEWS & VIEWS
Lapointe
Might alcohol be sliding down tobacco’s slippery slope?
By Joe Lapointe
Lately, we’ve read and heard a lot in the news about booze. This month, for example, is “Dry January,” the recently-established annual toast to teetotalism. In salute, Surgeon General Vivek Murthy said labels on bottles and cans should warn that alcohol, like tobacco, can cause cancer.
Fox News talking head Pete Hegseth — whose past alcohol escapades raised doubts about his discipline and judgment — vowed to give up drinking if only the Republican-ruled Senate would let him be Secretary of Defense for President Donald Trump.
On Friday night, he got confirmed, barely. He’s now in charge of all the guys and all the gals with all those guns. What could possibly go wrong?
Another Cabinet nominee — Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. — said he has learned his hard lessons from kicking his addictions to alcohol and other hard drugs. But he remains a science denier and a pathetic crackpot. If RFK leads Trump’s Department of Health and Human Services, your health is his business.
All these straws in the wind might mean a change in the weather for alcohol’s place in the culture. Let’s hope we don’t ban it again; prohibition a century ago didn’t work out too well. Instead, alcohol may be on tobacco’s slippery slope, a slide toward tighter marketing regulations and fewer users.
Remember cigarette machines in public places like restaurants? And all those clever television commercials and magazine ads associating cigarettes with rugged masculinity (and overall sexuality) and even endorsements from doctors?
People smoked in restaurants, bars, and even airplanes, pretty much wherever they darn well pleased. Movies and television glorified guys with a lit cigarette in one hand and a half-filled glass in the other. Think Las Vegas Rat Pack, early 1960s, Frank and Dean and all the fellas.
But in 1964, the surgeon general warned of tobacco dangers in his “Smoking and Health Report.” By 1965, cigarette packs warned “Caution: Cigarette smoking may be hazardous
television, we would miss those beer commercials on televised sports events, messages that assure us that drinking is cool and, although a little dangerous, quite fun and sometimes miraculous. These commercials are slick, cynical, and insidious.
For instance: the current ad for Coors Light. There’s a lot packed into 15 short seconds. It opens with a friendly group of young adults watching a football game on a bar TV. (Just like you!) Abruptly, their faces show chagrin when the picture goes out. (Malfunction!)
Suddenly, a locomotive crashes through the rear wall of the bar, smashing furniture, including a large pool table, into a pile of wreckage. (Things can get hairy and a little scary!) Miraculously, nobody is hurt and the train engine gently bumps the TV and restores the picture. (Everything works out in the end!)
All the cool people — un-spilled beers in their hands — return their gaze to the game, ignoring the train wreck all around them. “Coors Light,” a narrator’s voice says. “Choose Chill.”
Get it? The product may be dangerous, but destruction sure is entertaining. And, after all, all’s well that ends well, so chill out. Even if there’s a crash, you’ll probably survive.
Recent studies have shown that drinking is already declining in the younger population. Speculation as to reasons include the legality of marijuana in many states and the isolation of people from their social circles during the COVID-19 pandemic.
to your health.” As of 1971, TV commercials for cigarettes were banned. In common slang, they became “cancer sticks.” Slowly but surely, laws were passed forbidding smoking on planes, in bars, and in restaurants. It is still legal, of course. If tobacco were illegal, we’d have gangs with guns selling it on the black market.
But social smoking is now shunted off to side rooms and doorways, no longer chic, seen more now as a sign of addiction rather than sophistication. It’s as cool as using a spittoon.
The cumulative effect of all these restrictions has been enormous. According to the American Lung Association, the long-term smoking rate in the United States in 1965 was 42.6%. By 2022, it dropped to 11.6%.
So how might alcohol restrictions follow down tobacco’s road? Start with Dr. Murthy’s suggestion about warning labels. They need not display a skull and cross bones; but the words of warning should be large enough for Hegseth to read even after he’s had a few.
As for banning alcohol ads from
Some surveys show younger adults drinking less and older adults more. Last week, a report in USA Today said 49% of adults surveyed said they planned to drink less in 2025, compared to 41% in 2024 and 34% in 2023.
The poll was taken by an ad technology firm, NCSolutions. The story also cited Gallup poll numbers showing 58% of Americans using alcohol in 2024, compared to 67% in 2022 and 71% in 1976 through 1978.
This positive trend would probably accelerate if television banned alcohol commercials, but we’d still have in memory and on video those sacred beer hymns of our youth, like the Molson Canadian song on Hockey Night in Canada (“...the lager beer that’s bright and clear…”)
And remember boxing champion Joe Frazier sauntering into a bar in 1978 and singing about a new product from Miller: Low-calorie beer. “Lite’s less filling,” he sang, “Hey! That really knocks me out!” Any message there, you think? (Booze bruises your brain, but bar fights are fun). Here. Hold my beer…
Maybe those Rat Pack guys were just lab rats.
SHUTTERSTOCK
BIG SEAN GOES HIGHER
THE DETROIT RAPPER ON HIS NEW BOOK, COLLABORATING WITH WILL SMITH, AND PLANS FOR MUSIC IN 2025
By Kahn Santori Davison
Big Sean is easily one of Detroit’s most accomplished music artists and entertainers. Even by national standards he’s done more than 90% of emcees who’ve touched a mic. He’s sold over 185 million records worldwide, starred and done voice-overs in half-a-dozen films, was nominated for six Grammys, and as a fashion influencer has collaborated with Puma and Adidas. Last week, he added published author to that list and released his debut book, Go Higher: Five Practices for Purpose, Success, and Inner Peace.
“You can’t really count on life always being there. That was a bad habit that I had growing up, it’s always counting on things always being there,” Big Sean says during a phone interview on why he chose this point in his life to write the book. “Even when it came to Mac Miller, ‘Oh yeah lets link up soon,’ my boy Nipsey [Hussle] as well. Even Kobe [Bryant], all these people I crossed paths with and had interactions with and it was like, ‘Yeah, we’ll get up soon,’ you know, and thinking
that time was always there instead of taking advantage of the moment that you’re in.”
Go Higher is a hybrid self-help book and memoir, making it an outlier compared to similar books written by other hip-hop artists. Sean breaks down his and his family’s journeys into 29 chapters with heavy doses of motivational instructions. Sean says he was against the idea of writing a standard memoir as he felt he was still living out his story. But his publisher nudged him to incorporate personal stories as a way to add context and realism to his blueprint of encouraging ideas.
“That was one of the hardest things to go back and have to think of all these stories and experiences and then tie them into all these practices,” he says. “From accepting, trying and trusting, to manifesting to strategizing, and how they all play a part and how it all comes together.”
Sean talks about the book in a way that feels more like motivational speakers Les Brown or Eric Thomas rather than a platinum-selling emcee.
He uses the words “inspire” and “motivation” routinely and he says he consciously tried to make Go Higher relatable for all readers. The book starts off with the story of how preteen Sean Anderson recited his first hiphop verse to his mother, who told him it was “very good” and encouraged him to visualize his hip-hop goals.
Afterwards Sean wrote in his school notebook that he wanted to be one of the greatest rappers from Detroit, and two years later his 8th grade classmates voted him “Most likely to be a rapper from Detroit.” It was his first introduction into manifesting. Sean speaks on how he’s leaned on that tool along with vision boards, faith, and journaling throughout the rest of the book. It’s not that these are new concepts, but hearing how one of the biggest hip-hop artists on the planet has used them over the years makes a different impact.
“It took a lot of faith to be able to just stick with it, instead of just giving up so easy,” Sean says. “It is something I want kids to listen to. It is something Big Sean helps re-open Michigan Central.
KAHN SANTORI DAVISON
that if someone is at a pivotal moment of development and if it comes across and if the book is attractive to them, it could really ignite them and change their whole trajectory of reality.”
Big Sean has a chapter dedicated to his grandmother. He says he was adamant about the book not just being about his life and sharing his grandmother’s story and words of wisdom adds an extra layer of diversity and storytelling. On December 3 of last year, Big Sean and his family attended a premier of Tyler Perry’s The Six Triple Eight, a movie about the 6888 Central Postal Directory Battalion during World War II. Big Sean’s grandmother was one of the 855 soldiers who served in the only women’s Army Corps unit of color. While Sean mentions in his book that she was in the army, he didn’t know the significance of her service until later on.
“It was one of the most emotional things I had to sit and watch through, because it really felt like I was watching and living a part of my grandma’s life and I just appreciate [Perry] for telling that story,” Sean says. “Our family was watching it, holding hands. We probably cried 10 times watching that movie and I don’t even do that watching movies like that.”
Sean’s most transparent part of the book occurs when he discusses his 2017 battles with Adderall, alcohol, depression, and poor dietary choices, going into detail about how the substance abuse affected his health and how he treated those around him. He wants his openness to push readers who are experiencing similar debacles to take a deeper look at themselves, their choices, and pursue the help they need. Sean has been a champion of mental health therapy for several years now.
“I feel like the benefits of sharing your story has rewards to it, meaning that you can help so many people,” he says. “You can inspire so many people when you are open to share some of your hardest, darkest times.”
Sean wrote Go Higher during a critical time in his own life as he and longtime girlfriend and songstress Jhené Aiko had just welcomed their son Noah into the world. The demands of family and fatherhood prevented Sean from being able to completely devote all his attention to writing the book.
“I had to take breaks and gaps especially when my son was born,” he says. “Him being a newborn, I couldn’t do anything for months. We were just locked in on establishing his foundation and being there for him and making sure the bond was there.”
On January 21 Sean announced on his Instagram account that he was going to donate the proceeds from the
book’s pre-orders to those affected by the recent wildfires in Southern California, which have killed at least 28, forced more than 200,000 to evacuate, and destroyed or damaged more than 16,000 structures.
“Jhené lost her house, our family house essentially,” he says. “I don’t really want to speak on it because it’s super sensitive and it’s fresh still. I just know how hard it is to lose everything unexpectedly and some of these families have no help. Some of their insurance policies got canceled on them and it was like one of the most historically Black places in California.”
Even though Sean is in the midst of a press run for his book, he’s also in the studio daily (he says he was recording until 5 a.m. the day we speak) as he’s preparing to release a lot of music in 2025. His last project Better Me Than You dropped last August debuting at No. 25 on the U.S. Billboard 200. While the album was powered by the single, “It Is What It Is” featuring Gunna, it was the song “Certified” featuring NASAAN (son of legendary Detroit emcee Proof) that had hip-hop heads across the city rejoicing.
“NASSAN is my guy, definitely somebody I’m taking under my wing,” Sean says. “I’m definitely proud of him, I think he’s creative and he has what it takes to do whatever it is he sets out to do in music.”
Most recently Sean teamed up with heavyweight actor and rapper Will Smith for the song “Beautiful Scars,” which will debut January 29 on iHeartRadio via an exclusive world premier event at 7 p.m. Sean refers to Smith as an “icon” and one of his “heroes.”
“I linked with him on some like mentorship vibes,” Sean says. “Like talking and giving me advice and then he was like, ‘I wanna do this song.’ He sent me the beat first, I did my verse, and then I heard the whole song and he’s actually going crazy on there.”
For Detroit, part of Big Sean’s musical legacy is he’s the knot that ties together two generations of Motor City hip-hop. His debut album Finally Famous dropped in 2011, a year after Eminem’s seventh album Recovery and two years after Doughboyz Cashout’s first mixtape We Run The City, Vol. 1. Even though Sean is six studio albums deep, he regularly acknowledges Detroit’s current wave of hip-hop all-stars on national interview platforms. He says he wants to drop two music projects in 2025 and go on tour, and promises collabs coming with Detroit rappers Skilla Baby, Icewear Vezzo, G.T., and Kash Doll.
“I was around all of them before it was really popping,” he says. “I had
Payroll on my second album a long time ago. I always respect it. I was brought up under Street Lord Juan, I used to record at his studio downtown. He was one of my mentors before everything popped off.”
Sean says a few Detroit hip-hop artists expressed interest early on for him to start his own label imprint so they could sign to him, but Sean knew he didn’t have time to take on such a task.
“At the time I just couldn’t give them the attention that it requires,” he says. “So let’s just do a single and go platinum and be homies.”
Last month Sean was one of the guest judges on Netflix’s reality hiphop competition show Rhythm + Flow where he praised Michigan rappers Detroit Diamond and Yoshi Vintage for their lyrics and stage presence. Sean says he was asked to be on Rhythm + Flow by the show’s creator Jesse Collins, who produced last summer’s star-studded Michigan Central grand reopening concert in Detroit as well as the first-ever all-hip-hop halftime show for Super Bowl LVI in 2021 that featured Dr. Dre, 50 Cent, Anderson Paak, Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg, Mary J. Blige, and Eminem.
“I’m familiar with battle rapping, I’m familiar with performing. It felt real comfortable to be there and just seeing people from Detroit and from Michigan doing so well,” Big Sean says of the Netflix show. “It was all good energy and definitely was a great process and something I could do again.”
Ultimately Big Sean’s most lasting legacy may be the sincerity and how accessible he’s made himself to Detroiters. Even at the heights of his stardom he always gave Detroit equal layers of philanthropy and showmanship. His alma mater Cass Tech has one of the best studios in the state because of him, and he plans on bringing back his Sean Don Weekend community event in 2025. Since 2007 he’s performed over three dozen times in Detroit including performances where he’s surprised attendees by bringing out guests J. Cole, Drake, Nicki Minaj, Kanye West, and Lil Wayne. On April 1 of 2017 he was awarded the key to the city of Detroit by Mayor Mike Duggan and a few hours later he rocked a sold-out show at the Fox Theatre. At 2022’s Mo Pop Festival Big Sean concluded his performance by bringing out his parents, brother, and Aiko, who was pregnant at the time. No other Detroit hip-hop artist has meant this much to his city.
“Those shows were just moments in time and I’m thankful for them and I appreciate people showing up for me every time,” he says, adding, “It’s been quite a life already. I’m just appreciative.”
JOIN US FOR THE NFL PLAYOFFS! DRINK SPECIALS BEFORE & AFTER HOME GAMES
ONE MILE FROM STADIUMS / MINUTES FROM QLINE / FREE STREET PARKING ON SUNDAYS THE 4TH ANNUAL BARFLY AWARDS ARE MARCH 1ST CAST YOUR BALLOTS AT THE BAR NOW! Wed 1/29 OFF THE RAILS TRIVIA HOSTED WEEKLY BY THE PAZMASTER 8PM / NO COVER Fri 1/31 SUGAR FANG/DISCO FRANCISCO/ TEMPO TANTRUM/PTCHBLND/VANDAL (EXPERIMENTAL RAP/ROCK/ELECTRONIC) DOORS@9P/$5COVER Sat 2/01 OLD MIAMI 45TH ANNIVERSARY PARTY! LUGEFEST: FROZEN SPIRITS FEST 3-10P THE LUDDITES/JO SERRAPERE/ POOR PLAYER (ACCOUSTIC/FOLK ROCK/ALT ROCK) DOORS@10P/$5COVER Mon 2/03 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLD MIAMI! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TIFFANY! FREE POOL ALL DAY Tues 2/04 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, IAN KUJAWA!
Coming Up: WEDNESDAYS@8pm: Off The Rails Trivia w/ The Pazmaster
2/07 Lousy Lovers/Stomp Rockets/Absentees 2/08 VALIDTINES DAY 8 2/09 Super Bowl Sunday Party
2/14 The Gluttons(CLV)/Superdevil/ Bill Kozy’s Rising Force
2/15 Divas vs. Divas (monthly dance party)
2/21 Matthew Teardrop Orchestra/ Rose St Germaine/Slizz
3/01 4th ANNUAL BARFLY AWARDS Book Your Parties: theoldmiamibarevents@gmail.com Old Miami T-shirts & Hoodies for Sale!
WHAT’S GOING ON
Select events happening in metro Detroit this week. Be sure to check venue websites before all events for the latest information. Add your event to our online calendar: metrotimes.com/ AddEvent.
MUSIC
Wednesday, Jan. 29
Live/Concert
Donny Benét, Reggi Roomers 7 p.m.; The Shelter, 431 E. Congress St., Detroit; $25.
Fulton Lee presents The Groove With Me Tour 7 p.m.; Magic Stick, 4120 Woodward Ave., Detroit; $25-$75.
Wednesday Parfait w/ Matt Larusso Trio and guests 8-11 p.m.; Northern Lights Lounge, 660 W. Baltimore St., Detroit; no cover.
Thursday, Jan. 30
Live/Concert
Bert’s Music Cafe & The Preservation of Jazz ft. The Jerome Clark Trio 6-10 p.m.; Bert’s Music Cafe, 2458 Brush St., Detroit, MI; $15. Kerry King, Municipal Waste, Alien Weaponry 6 p.m.; Magic Stick, 4120 Woodward Ave., Detroit; $39.50$79.50.
L.A. Relief Fundraiser Concert for MusiCares + Pasadena Humane hosted by Screamin’ Scott of 94.7 WCSX with Lish + Lance, Stereobabe,/ Ardennes, ELSIE BINX 7 p.m.; The Token Lounge, 28949 Joy Rd., Westland; $15. DJ/Dance
DRAG NIGHT IN THE LOUNGE 8-11 pm; Bowlero Lanes & Lounge, 4209 Coolidge Hwy., Royal Oak; no cover.
Two Friends, MC4D, Beachcrimes 7 p.m.; The Fillmore, 2115 Woodward Ave., Detroit; $45-$99.50. Karaoke
Dare-u-oke with DJ Thornstryker 9 p.m.-midnight; Northern Lights Lounge, 660 W. Baltimore St., Detroit; no cover.
Fisher Theatre - Detroit Clue; Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.; Thursday, 7:30 p.m.; Friday, 7:30 p.m.; Saturday, 2 p.m. and 7:30 p.m.; Sunday, 1 p.m. and 6:30 p.m.; Tuesday, 7:30 p.m.
Flagstar Strand Theatre for the Performing Arts Notre Dame Prep Middle School Presents Moana, Jr.; $16; Friday, 7 p.m.; Saturday, 3 p.m. and 7 p.m. Hilberry Gateway - STAGE Tartuffe Tartuffe by Molière. This 1664 comedic play satirizes religious hypocrisy. $15-$25; Feb. 9, 8-10:30 p.m.
South Lyon Hotel Motown Mark’s Comedy Night with Robert Horton, Dan Brittain, Hanna Osborne, and emcee Motown Mark Dabiero; $50; Monday, 5:30 p.m.
The Independent Comedy Club Comedy Gauntlet; $15 advance, $20 at the door; Friday, 9-10:30 p.m.
MGM Grand Detroit Howie Mandel & Arsenio Hall; $69-$109; Friday, 8 p.m.
DANCE
Performance
Detroit Opera House Twyla Tharp Dance: Diamond Jubilee featuring Third Coast Percussion; $30-175; Saturday, 7:30 p.m. and Sunday, 2:30 p.m.
Mon Jin Lau Lunar New Year: Year of the Snake muliti-course dinner and traditional Lion Dance; $85 for adults, $40 for children; Sunday, 5:30-9 p.m.
ARTS
Art Exhibition
Moondog Cafe The Straits: A photography exhibition by Andrew Petrov. Through Feb. 1.
Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit (MOCAD) Magic Circle Portal Fire: Shrine of the Torchbearer works by Levon Kafafian. Through Feb. 23.
The Shepherd Warp and Weft: Technologies within Textiles. Through May 3.
LITERARY EVENT
Books
Next Chapter Books An Evening with Bernadette Atuahene; $34.45; Friday 5-6:30 pm.
MISC.
Burlesque
Five 15 A Night at the Moulin Rouge; $25; Friday, 10-11 p.m.
Planet Ant Theatre Lilith’s Big Ol’ Golden Show; $25-$120; Friday, 7-10 p.m.
Drink
Trivia Wednesdays Wrecked And Rocked Off The Rails Trivia hosted by Roger Paz ; 8 p.m.; The Old Miami; no cover.
Critic’s Pick
The Old Miami turns 45
Against all odds, Detroit’s Old Miami has been in business for 45 years.
The beloved dive bar is celebrating the occasion with a party on Saturday that includes winter-themed games and live music.
From 3-10 p.m. guests can partake in “Lugefest” on the bar’s backyard patio featuring ice luges, or liquor shots poured through ice sculptures. There will also be a Kahlúa-sponsored hot bar with coffee and tea mixed drinks.
The “Lugefest” event is $20 to attend, with all proceeds going to support Little Blessings, a Michiganbased ranch that provides therapy horses for military veterans and their families.
Helping vets has been a part of Old Miami’s identity from its beginning. The bar was founded by Dan Overstreet on Feb. 3, 1980 after he returned to Detroit from being drafted into the Vietnam War, using money he made as a union railroad worker.
At the time the Cass Corridor was infamous for crime, and Overstreet purchased the former New Miami bar which had been left vacant after being firebombed. He cheekily named his new bar the Old Miami, which was also a nod to fellow vets, honoring “missing in action” service members from “MI.” With the help of
formed into the trendier “Midtown,” the Old Miami survives as a time capsule of an old, weird Detroit. To avoid getting lost in the shuffle amid all the new development in the neighborhood, Walker says the owners have sought to retain the Old Miami’s quirky character and reputation as a community gathering space.
To that end they have introduced regular event programming, including trivia on Wednesdays and monthly karaoke parties.
Another uniquely Old Miami experience is the Barfly Awards — “the night that we roast all of our regulars for giving us money all year,” Walker says with a laugh. Categories for this year’s event, set for Saturday, March 1, include “King and Queen of the Flies,” “Most Likely to be Loud and Wrong,” “Wannabe Dan Campbell,” “Most Likely to Be 86’d,” and “Alex of the Year.” (“We have a lot of Alexes for some reason right now,” Walker says. “That’s actually my favorite category.”) The event is hosted by writer, actor, and man-about-town Jimmy Doom.
the community, he slowly rebuilt the building piece by piece.
“Being in that situation gave me the guts to stay down there every night,” Overstreet previously told Metro Times of his military service and affinity for the Cass Corridor. “People were getting shot every night, the cops were crooked, you name it.”
Music is also a big part of the Old Miami’s identity. During his time on the railroad, Overstreet worked alongside the late folk artist Rodriguez, who died in 2023 at 81. The “Sugarman” singer is honored with a sign inside the bar emblazoned with “Rodriguez for Mayor of Detroit 2013.”
Fittingly, the Old Miami’s 45th anniversary party continues into the evening with rock acts the Luddites, Jo Serrapere, and Poor Player starting at 10 p.m., with a $5 cover.
A number of notable musical acts have graced the Old Miami’s stage over the years, including Iggy Pop, Jack White, the Dead Milkmen, and the Butthole Surfers.
“Danny told me once that Aretha Franklin did a show here,” manager Dena Walker tells Metro Times “She asked if she could sing after some event onstage. He was like, ‘Of course, you can do whatever you want.’”
As the Cass Corridor has trans-
Other events hocking up at the bar this year include rapper Valid’s annual Validtines hip-hop show on Feb. 8; an afterparty for the Marche du Nain Rouge on March 23; a live Jerry Springer-esque “talk show” dubbed Sally Jesse Donahue on April 26; a two-day music festival by rock band Timmy’s Organism on May 16-17; No Fucks Given Wrestling on June 7 and Aug. 16; and a queer honky tonk event called Howdyfest on June 21.
Walker says they also want to try other events like craft nights and dog-friendly days on the patio, among others, as well as embracing Detroit’s resurgent sports fandoms.
“This year, we’re really trying to bring back our sports crowd,” Walker says, adding that the bar got a lot of fans of the long-suffereing Detroit Lions this season. “We bought a 75-inch TV that’s on wheels. … We had a great crowd for the playoffs. It was a bummer [the Lions] didn’t go further, because we spent this whole season trying to figure out how to get the TV to work… We finally figured it out on the day of the last playoffs [game], when they lost. So, hopefully next year!”
In keeping with the spirit of the bar, there is no cover charge for veterans for events.
—Lee DeVito
The Old Miami 45th anniversary party starts at 3 p.m. on Saturday, Feb. 1; 3930 Cass Ave., Detroit.
Saturday’s party features winter-themed games, live music, and no cover for vets.
COURTESY PHOTO
FOOD
Good mornings
By Jane Slaughter
Forest Bakery
8140 W. Nine Mile Rd., Oak Park instagram.com/forestoakpark
10 a.m.- 2 p.m. or sold out, Thursday-Saturday
Baked goods $2.75-$9.50
I asked the owners of Forest Bakery how many layers were in their croissants. I hadn’t researched beforehand so was dumbfounded when they said “27.” And that’s just the pastry dough — there are just as many layers of butter, imported from France, in between.
That’s one reason why the pastries at Forest Bakery are so phenomenal — they’re the product of a lot of work, a lot of attention to detail, and careful ingredients. Making a croissant takes a week, with a different step every day, starting at 4 a.m. The owners have a “sheeter” that speeds up the dough part. Folding in all that Isigny Sainte-Mère butter is the time-consuming job.
Forest Bakery was opened in April by three veterans of other area bakeries, including Ochre and Warda Patisserie: Jo Burke, Kyle Suczynski, and Humna Tak. The three owners do all the work themselves in a small building that’s a former carwash, right next to Pie Sci. They all say that they grew up baking, they’re morning people, and their previous restaurant work convinced them the late-night
lifestyle was not for them. The bakery is open only Thursday to Saturday, but they’re hefting 50-lb. bags of flour and doing prep work two or three other days per week.
The pastry list changes and includes tiramisu a couple of times a month. There’s also soup and tricked-out yogurt. One December morning offerings included scones, gluten-free financiers, coffee cake, cardamom buns, carrot cake, sweet and savory Danishes, pain au chocolat, a couple of loaf cakes, and focaccia.
It’s all excellent, but if I have to single something out, I’ll pick the Danishes.
The very flaky French Onion Soup Danish sports caramelized onions whose flavor permeates the pastry and tastes as if they’ve been cooked on a very low flame for a very long time. The Apple Butter Vanilla Custard Streusel Danish is ultra-buttery, with a pool of melted brown sugar in the middle and some oat flakes. The flavor is somewhat like an intense cinnamon roll but it’s far better, because of the layered flakiness of the bread; it’s not tough like a cinnamon roll. Also because everything the Forest Bakery makes is better.
Such as pain au chocolat, which is like a square croissant with a stick of chocolate buried within, a staple French breakfast. The Valrhona chocolate is small enough that you have to wait for it a bit
but large enough to infuse most of your bites. Even unadorned, the buttery pastry itself is enough to make your morning. I was in France a year ago and marveled at how any bakery in any small town in Brittany was producing croissants and pain head and shoulders above anything you normally get here. But the Forest women have got it figured out.
The variety is extensive. Cheddar Chive Scones have the right, dense scone consistency, a mellow flavor, a crisp outside, cheerful flecks of green, and flaky salt on top. A non-Cheddar scone can be turned into a sandwich with caramelized onions, mixed greens, and whipped goat cheese.
Focaccia is plainer and comes with the soup. It’s airy but chewy, with flaky salt on top, a bit much for me but you can brush it off if you’re not trendy. Cardamom buns are Swedish treats (using an Indian spice) constructed with wrapped dough. People’s descriptions of the flavor of cardamom are all over the map, from piney to menthol to eucalyptus; my taste buds say anise. In any case, the dense and solid buns are the most breadlike of the treats, besides the focaccia, but with a distinctive flavor you should take the time to savor; don’t wolf.
For a few years I’ve been baking a pumpkin bread that everyone loves; it’s lighter than the usual, with stronger spicing and lots of eggs. Forest’s Pumpkin Loaf may be as good as mine, and they
put icing on theirs. A Citrus Almond Poppy Cake is also frosted, with sharp lemon in both components — vegan, dense, and tangy.
It’s not baking, but Forest is just as expert with soup. Thick and creamy Squash Coconut tastes purely of those two ingredients, a perfect blend. And they doctor Fage Greek yogurt in all sorts of ways and call it a “dip”: caramelized onion with goat cheese; red lentil and roasted squash. Mine was simple “Spicy Yogurt,” which meant black pepper, red pepper flakes, garam masala, cumin, and coriander — warm and earthy. It’s a thicker texture than many and super creamy. Suczynski asked me what I dipped into it, and I said “my spoon.”
The bakery is locally focused, except for those big bags of organic flour from Utah. It sells Hyperion coffee by the cup or by the bag, and has a grocery assortment including pasta, fancy salts, canned fish, local Share Crackers, Guernsey dairy products, Zab’s hot sauce, and dried beans. Last summer they sold bouquets from Bucket Works, Coriander Farm, and Amalgam Farm.
The bakery opens its doors at 10 a.m. and stays open till it runs out of treats, an hour which fluctuates widely. Get there early to avoid disappointment. There’s enough disappointment in the world without missing out on the best baked goods in town.
The pastries at Forest Bakery are the product of a lot of work, a lot of attention to detail, and careful ingredients.
JOE MAROON
CULTURE
Film R.I.P. David Lynch
By Jared Rasic
We lost the artist David Lynch on January 15, just five days before his 79th birthday. As a writer, director, painter, and designer, he spent his entire career finding ways to map the human subconscious, making movies that feel like glimpses of half-remembered dreams, scripts that turn dream logic into tactile reality, and paintings that found more layers behind the darkness than we ever knew were there. I’m as guilty as anyone for overusing the words “genius” or “visionary,” so instead of using either word to describe David Lynch I will just say this: Thank you, David Lynch, you were one of the best to ever do it.
What I find so fascinating about Lynch is that if you view his work outside of the context of who he was and his history, you would think he was a
tortured artist, high on his own supply. But he grew up in the land of white picket fences and perfectly manicured lawns with a loving mother and father he doesn’t remember ever hearing fight a single time. After spending so much of his youth up to his neck in the Middle American Dream, finding the darkness contrasted against the smooth, unblemished surface became a recurring motif in almost everything he made.
One of his earliest memories as a child was playing outside with his brother and seeing a naked, crying woman walking down the neighborhood street. This became one of the seeds (and most haunting images) of his 1986 masterpiece Blue Velvet.
But again, Lynch wasn’t some tortured artist using the canvas of cinema
daughter Jennifer) provided the spine for 1977’s Eraserhead, a body horror experiment in surrealistic panic that feels steeped in the fear of fatherhood and the paranoia of a violent world outside your door. But Lynch himself said that not a single critic ever really understood Eraserhead for what it was trying to say, so please don’t mistake anything I say about his work to remotely resemble his intentions. I always assumed most of his work was about finding the rot at the center of the American Dream, but the older I get, the more I realize it’s always been more than that. There is no singular theme. His work is like life: only understood while living.
It was seeing his 1990 insane howl at the moon Wild at Heart at 12 years old that imprinted Lynch onto my brain. Seeing the fearlessness of how he moved the camera, the pure uninhibited insanity he got from his actors and luxuriating in the dreamy darkness of Angelo Badalamenti’s score made me realize for the first time that there were no borders to cinema, that as large as your imagination could possibly be, movies were still wide enough of a canvas on which to splash those ideas. Without Wild at Heart, without the epiphany of the limitlessness of art, I’m a different person today.
as a form of therapy. He thought being an artist mostly comprised drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and, every once in a while, meeting a woman. Yet, if you look at his earlier work, you would absolutely think he had a traumatic childhood that he was still working out ways to process. His 1970 short The Grandmother follows a little kid who is neglected and abused by his parents, so he plants some seeds and grows a weird grandmother. It’s an amazing short, filled with so many of the absurdist touchstones that would come to define his style.
Lynch would always take details from his life as inspiration. Moving from the idyllic small town life to a rough neighborhood in Philadelphia (contrasted with the unexpected pregnancy of his wife and birth of
It doesn’t matter where you discovered him: whether it was the grime of 1997’s Lost Highway, the calm quiet of 1999’s The Straight Story, the neo-noir splash of sex and death of 2001’s Mulholland Drive, the flawlessly framed The Elephant Man from 1980, the original watercooler show Twin Peaks, or even the sci-fi insanity of 1984’s Dune, Lynch approached everyone who was touched by his work differently. Just a gentle tap on the shoulder before his booming voice asked you if you wanted to see something weird.
David Lynch changed movies forever. Changed me forever. I’m not sure a filmmaker passing has ever affected me this much and I doubt it will again. In my youth, I spent so much time trying to decode his work so I could be the smartest person at Denny’s with my watery, black coffee and bottomless pack of Camels, arguing what Lynch meant with the ending of Mulholland Drive. But then a quote I read of his quieted that part of my brain and just let me exist with his art instead of trying to tame it.
He told the Los Angeles Times in 1989, “I don’t know why people expect art to make sense when they accept the fact that life doesn’t make sense.”
Thank you David Lynch for your art, your soul, and your untamed mind.
David Lynch in 2007.
THIAGO PICCOLI, WIKIMEDIA CREATIVE COMMONS
The Straight Dope
Utopia Gardens combines quality cannabis with Detroit pride
By Steve Neavling
This isn’t your typical cannabis dispensary.
Tucked inside a former elevator factory on Detroit’s lower east side, Utopia Gardens is more like an experience.
With polished concrete floors, hanging light fixtures, and a massive yellow crane that still looms from the tall ceiling, the dispensary has preserved the building’s industrial setting. Replica Diego Rivera murals adorn the walls, and vintage motorcycles are on display. A curved wooden counter, where budtenders help customers, adds some warmth to the large space.
Owner Stuart Carter has taken great care to create a dispensary that is warm, welcoming, and stays true to its Detroit roots. One side of the building is graced with a colorful mural by local artist Camilo Pardo. On the other side is a Zen garden with benches and a basalt stone fountain. In the summer, the area is transformed into a space for live music every Friday evening.
“When I first started this, I really wanted it to be a blend of culture and business,” Carter says. “We just want to be a boutique operation. We’re like a family here.”
That family is literal too. Carter’s son, Garrett Carter, serves as the dispensary’s general manager, and he’s as passionate about cannabis as he is knowledgeable.
Open since 2017, Utopia Gardens is part of a vertically integrated business that allows the dispensary to keep the prices low and control what they sell. The dispensary sources much of its cannabis from its own Utopia Farms, a nearly 1,000-square-foot grow operation that cycles through 27 strains at any given time and is working on an additional 16 strains. During a tour of the facility, I caught a glimpse of a new strain, Purple Zunch, that had strikingly purple buds coated in frosty trichomes.
Utopia offers a mix of old-school favorites like Sour Diesel and Blue Dream, as well as newer strains with desert and candy flavors.
Utopia Gardens, another branch of the
operation, produces concentrates, gummies, and infused prerolls.
The dispensary offers an ever-changing lineup of flower, from Utopia’s own strains to those cultivated by Grown Rogue, DogHouse Farms, LightSky Farms, Grand Crossing, and Algonquin Technologies. The idea is to give customers a variety of choices each time they visit, and there’s always something fresh on the menu, the younger Carter says.
“We want to have a lot of variety so we appeal to everyone,” he says.
For those who appreciate quality over quantity, Utopia Gardens is a refreshing departure from the “Walmart of weed,” as Carter puts it.
“When you come in here, you won’t be disappointed with the product,” Garrett Carter says. “That has always been our mindset.”
And the prices are hard to beat. Utopia’s own flower is just $6 a gram or $15 an eighth — and that’s when it’s not on sale. In the late 1990s, I was paying more for brick, seed-riddled weed in the black market.
While the deli-style flower is one of the main highlights, Utopia Gardens also sells prerolls, vapes, concentrates, edibles, tinctures, topicals, and CBD products.
I sampled a handful of Utopia’s strains, all of them fresh and harvested less than two months ago, and one of their infused prerolls.
Myst
The standout strain for me was Myst, a pungent, well-rounded hybrid with a mysterious lineage. The buds are dense and frosty with a dark purple hue.
The smell is an old-school funky gas with sour, citrusy undertones, much like an OG Kush.
The taste translates well, with an added hint of sweet fruit.
The effects were evenly balanced, providing a soothing body buzz and a focused, cerebral high. It’s a very versatile strain, so you could knock out some boring tasks, hang out with friends, or just relax.
Sunshine Daydream
A flavorful indica-leaning hybrid, Sunshine Daydream is a combination of Appalachia and Bubbashine.
The gooey, resin-packed buds have a pungent aroma of tangy diesel and blueberries, with earthy, nutty tones.
More than any of the strains I sampled, this one was the most relaxing and tranquil. About 20 minutes after taking some puffs from a joint, all of my negative feelings melted away. This is a good nighttime strain.
Hash Plant
Another indica-dominant strain, Hash
Plant has plump, spongy buds that are oozing with trichomes. A cross between Northern Lights and Afghani, this strain has been around for a long time, and Utopia does it justice.
It has a spicy, earthy aroma with a similar taste.
This strain is perfect for unwinding or doing something creative.
Super Silver Haze x Lavender
What happens when you cross a mindbending sativa with a calming indica? You have this unique strain.
The buds are fluffy and resinous, with bright green leaves, purple hues, and orange pistils.
The flavor is spicy and floral, with sour citrus undertones.
This indica-sativa combination gives way to an energetic, focused high with a relaxed body buzz. I found it perfect for tackling tasks I had long put off.
Cheetah Mintz
The buds on this hybrid are thick, chunky, and crystal-coated — the best looking of the strains I sampled.
Cheetah Mintz is a combination of Ice Cream Cake and Zonuts x (Cheetah Piss x Runtz Mintz).
The flavor is like mint candy with a touch of cream, while the aroma carries hints of earthy herbs and cheese.
The strain is a nice balance between physical and cerebral effects. I felt cozy, elated, and introspective after taking a few tokes from a joint. Cheetah Mintz is perfect for unwinding after a long day or doing something creative.
Gas Can infused prerolls
If you want a product with a stronger punch, Utopia Extracts offers a variety of infused prerolls that exceed 40% THC. I sampled a preroll stuffed with Eastside OG flower and a Trop Cherry cured extract.
Each joint has about a half gram of flower and a quarter gram of extract. You don’t need a lot.
Unlike many infused prerolls, Utopia’s
burn evenly because the natural extract is sprayed on the flower, a technique that keeps the joint smoking smoothly.
The profile is wild, with the flower bringing diesel, lemon, and pine flavors, while the extract added sweet tangerine and cherry notes.
The effects are uplifting, cerebral, and potent.
More than weed
Utopia Gardens isn’t just about cannabis. Giving back to the community has always been a big part of its mission.
To date, the business has donated more than $200,000 to charitable causes. Utopia has given away 1,000 bicycles to children, handed out Thanksgiving turkeys, and even donated to a fund to bail out peaceful Black Lives Matter protesters who were arrested during anti-police brutality rallies in Detroit.
“I really like being part of the community,” Carter says. “It’s important to me that we give back.”
Carter’s care also extends to his employees, who earn about $20 an hour on average, along with health insurance, tuition matching, and eight paid holidays a year.
It’s all part of his philosophy of blending culture, community, and cannabis into a holistic operation.
With thoughtfully curated strains, a commitment to quality, and the sense that this isn’t just a dispensary, Utopia Gardens is a unique space where quality and the community matter.
“The whole upside is that we created a little oasis,” Carter says. “I knew going into this that we were never going to compete with the big money guys. We found a place for the dispensary in our neighborhood downtown. We are committed to Detroit.”
Utopia Gardens is located at 6541 E. Lafayette St., Detroit; utopiagardens.com.
If you want us to sample your cannabis products, send us an email at steve@ metrotimes.com.
With an industrial setting, vintage motorcycles, and a Zen garden, this dispensary is one of a kind. STEVE NEAVLING
CULTURE
Savage Love
The Counterfeit
By Dan Savage
Q
:
I am a 30-year-old cishet woman from the Pacific Northwest. I am reaching out today about faking orgasms. I have been dating this guy for about six months and he is perfect. I love everything about him and part of that is I feel like we have great sex. The caveat is that I have never had an orgasm during sex with him and consistently fake them. I have always had a very challenging time achieving orgasm with partners, whether male or female. As it turns out, thing he loves most about sex is when his partner starts getting loud right before or during her orgasm. He doesn’t just love it: it turns out that it is almost always the thing that makes him come. So, I started faking orgasms when we first started dating and hoped that things would change as we got to know each other’s bodies. Now, six months later, I’m still not having orgasms — which again, is not unusual for me during partnered sex but I want him to enjoy sex with me, so I’ve kept faking it. Even the few times where I haven’t faked it, he can still cum, but he really ruminates on it. It’s very clear that he doesn’t have as much fun, which, for me, spoils the whole experience. I want to be clear that having an orgasm isn’t the goal for myself during sex. What I love about sex is the physical intimacy, feeling close to my partner, and providing pleasure to someone I deeply care about. That’s why I feel like I still intensely enjoy sex with him, despite the faking. However, as our relationship progresses, the lie is weighing on me. I can see myself marrying this guy, but I just can’t get past the question: Am I going to be faking orgasms for forty years? That seems like a horrid betrayal of him. What do I do? How do I unravel this?
—Future About Keeping Everything Real
A: There are two things I want you to do, FAKER: First, go see Babygirl alone — and then watch some gay porn with your boyfriend.
Zooming out for a second… I’ve advised partnered women who wanted to stop faking orgasms to start faking something else: getting close. After a few months of getting fake close instead of fake there, a woman can say this to her boyfriend or husband: “Something changed with my body when I hit [insert current age] and it’s made my orgasms harder
to achieve — it even happens when I try on my own — so it looks like we’re going to have to experiment with some new things to get me there!”
That’s a lie — obviously — but it’s a defensible one.
Now, let the record show that I believe “I’ve been faking it” is something a man should be able to hear without falling apart. I also believe straight men should be able to wrap their heads around why women might fake an orgasm with new partners and then feel obligated to keep faking orgasms. (I also think men should admit that we would fake orgasms if we could.) So, while lies are generally bad, I would argue that there’s a difference between a wholly self-serving lie meant to deceive and a partly self-serving lie meant to spare. Some men do feel humiliated — some men feel betrayed — when they’re told (or they discover) that their partners have been faking orgasms, and if a small lie (“my orgasms have gotten more elusive”) helps a woman back a bigger lie (months or years of faked orgasms) without hurting her partner’s feelings, I will allow it.
But your issue is a little different, FAKER, since your partner sulks when you don’t fake an orgasm — and thinking you’re there helps him get there which puts you under additional pressure to keep faking it.
Reading your letter made me think of Romy, the powerful CEO played by Nicole Kidman in Babygirl. (Anyone who thinks sharing a couple of details from the first two minutes of a movie that’s been out for months — and has been widely discussed everywhere constitutes a “spoiler” should skip the rest of this response.) The film opens on Romy (Kidman) having sex with her husband Jacob (Antonio Banderas). It looks like Romy is having an orgasm — it looks Romy and Jacob are coming at the same time (that happens a lot in movies) — but then we see Romy slip down the hall and into her home office, where she gets herself off while watching porn. The real orgasm we see Romy have by herself (primal, grunting, animalistic) looks and sounds nothing like the fake orgasm we just watched Romy perform for her husband. Later in the film, Jacob is devastated to learn Romy has been faking orgasms the entire time they’ve been together; that revelation does almost as much damage to their marriage as the affair with her hot male intern.
I think seeing Babygirl — alone
will inspire you to level with your boyfriend now, FAKER, instead of waiting until you’ve been together (and faking it) for twenty years.
As for your boyfriend’s issue — he has a hard time coming unless he thinks you’re coming and sulks if you don’t you need to google “copulatory vocalizations,” share a few articles with your boyfriend, and then sit down to watch some gay porn together.
Copulatory vocalizations are the noises female primates tend to make during sex; sometimes female primates make these sounds — sometimes they howl — because they’re climaxing, sometimes female primates make these sounds because they’re trying to attract other mates, and sometimes female primates make these sounds because hearing them pushes male primates over the edge. (Sometimes it’s all of the above.)
What your boyfriend needs — what’s already working for him — is not your orgasms, FAKER, it’s your copulatory vocalizations. And this is where gay porn comes in.
Now, I’ve encouraged opposite-sex couples who wanna have simultaneous orgasms during PIV to watch gay porn and pay close attention to what the bottoms are doing in scenes where the top and bottom come at the same time: the bottoms are stroking themselves and communicating — verbally and non-verbally — with their tops as their orgasms approach. So, straight men who want their girlfriends or wives to come at the same time they do during PIV need to stimulate their partners’ clits and/or encourage their partners to stimulate their own clits during PIV. (And any straight man who won’t stimulate his partner’s clit and/or discourages his partner from stimulating her own clit isn’t interested in his partner coming.)
But what I want you and your partner to watch for are scenes where the top comes but the bottom doesn’t. If watching gay PIB turns you off — there are a lot of closeups and anal isn’t for everybody you can close your eyes and listen, FAKER, because it’s actually what you’re gonna hear that’s important: bottoms getting loud and staying loud even when they don’t come There’s nothing the least bit insincere about their copulatory vocalizations, i.e. the sounds gay bottoms make when they’re getting fucked. And you can see (if you open your eyes) that the sounds gay bottoms make when they’re getting fucked help push the men fucking them over the edge. And they’re not faking it, FAKER, they’re loving it. (In case you live in a red state where Republicans have made online porn harder to access, I transcribed a short
gay porn clip for you: Top: “Your ass feels so good!” Bottom: “Your cock feels so good! Fuck me, daddy! Oh, my God! Yes! YES! Fuuuuuuuck! Fuck me! Come in me, daddy! UH! UH! UHHHH! FUCK, YEAH! YES! YES!”)
Like the power bottoms in gay porn, FAKER, you should be able moan and groan and shout encouragement to your boyfriend without having to pretend you’re coming when you’re not. The only way to avoid having to fake orgasms for the next forty years is by getting your boyfriend to understand that your copulatory vocalizations — even in the absence of an orgasm — are signals of your sexual pleasure and (sigh) his sexual prowess. If straight men can wrap their heads around why women sometimes fake orgasms (and they can wrap their heads around it), your boyfriend should be able to wrap his head around the fact that you’re already giving him everything he needs in the runup to his orgasm; even if he can’t make you come during PIV, he can make you howl.
And that — your copulatory vocalizations — aren’t nothing, FAKER, and it sure beats being lied to and/or having to lie every time you have sex.
P.S. I shouldn’t say men can’t fake orgasms, as some men have faked orgasms. But we’re less likely to, less likely to need to, and less likely to get away with it when we try (an empty condom/hole is a bit of a tell.)
: Q I’m a middle-aged gay man who has been out twenty years. I have an awesome boyfriend with whom I have an open relationship. Supportive parents and family. Now, a couple months ago, a gay mate of mine messages me on Grindr asking if I’m in town because he saw seen [sic] my profile online. I say no because I’m about 1500 miles away but then my friend sends me another message telling me someone is apparently using my pic on Grindr to catfish and he sends me a screen shot of the Grindr account. It’s not a picture of me. It’s a picture of my twin brother, who is married to a woman and has three kids. He’s always been incredibly supportive, just like you imagine a twin would be, but we’ve never talked about him being bi or gay, so this was a bit of a surprise for me, even if it’s an easy leap based on how supportive he’s been of me.
So, given that he hasn’t said anything to me, I’m wondering what to do. Is he cheating on his wife? Is he gay? Is his marriage a sham? Is he bi and only out to his wife and has her consent to meet up with guys? Do I ask him what’s going on? If he’s not ready to tell me — and we share a lot — then how do I support him? He clearly knows I’m fine with his sexuality but knowing and not saying anything is proving hard since I can’t unknow it! What should I do here?
—Outing Unwitting Twin Sibling
A: I’m gonna take your questions — you packed a lot of them into that last paragraph — one at a time:
1. Is your brother cheating on his wife? He could be!
2. Is your brother gay? He could be!
3. Is your brother’s marriage a sham? It could be!
4. Is your brother bi? He could be!
5. Does your brother have his wife’s consent to fuck around with other guys? He could!
6. Do you ask your brother what’s going on? You should!
If you and your brother were estranged, OUTS, or if your brother was a ranting, raving homophobe and you had cause to fear a violent reaction, I would advise you against asking the dread direct question. But seeing as you two have a good relationship, and seeing as we aren’t required to internalize or mirror other people’s shame about being gay (it’s a question, not an insult), I think you should tell your brother a friend spotted him on Grindr and ask him what’s up.
Zooming out for a second: Posting face pics on Grindr is a little like walking into a gay bar. Guys who are already in the bar are gonna think you’re gay when they see you walk in. And since we can’t know before walking in whether guys we know from school or work or the womb we once shared (!!!) are already in there, to walk into a gay bar is to out yourself. Same goes for posting face pics to Grindr: If someone you know from school or work or womb (!!!) sees your face pics on Grindr, he’s gonna think you’re gay or bi or one of those straight men into dick but not dudes.
The fact that you and your brother share the exact same DNA — and hence the exact same face — gives you more grounds to ask the dread direct question. I’m guessing it’s not a problem when your face appears on Grindr, as you’re in an open relationship and presumably allowed to post face (and other) pics to hookup apps, but the gay world is small. It was inevitable that someone you knew would see your brother’s photos on Grindr and assume they were yours and it would get back to you. If your brother didn’t know that before he uploaded photos of the face you share to Grindr, he’s about to find out. P.S. This could still be a catfishing situation — someone could’ve swiped photos of your brother off his social media accounts — but Occam’s razor slices toward your brother getting on Grindr for the same reason the friend who spotted him was on Grindr: for the dick. It’s also possible your brother came out to his wife as bisexual after they married — it’s possible he didn’t
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realize he was bi until after they married — and his wife agreed to him hooking up with other guys on the condition that no one else (you included) would know their marriage wasn’t monogamous. Or your brother and his wife could be in one of those “lavender marriages” that Gen Z — frustrated with modern dating and modern housing prices — are bringing back into style. Anything is possible.
P.P.S. There are straight men on Grindr looking for trans women who haven’t had bottom surgery; those guys are into dick but not dude. There are a smaller number of straight men on Grindr looking for trans men who haven’t had bottom surgery; those guys are into pussy and willing to overlook dude. So, not all guys on Grindr are gay or bisexual. Straight men on Grindr can be problematic — it’s not OK to fetishize the bodies of trans women or mentally disassemble the bodies of trans men — but they’re still straight. Or so I’m told.
Got problems? Yes, you do! Email your question for the column to mailbox@ savage.love! Or record your question for the Savage Lovecast at savage.love/ askdan! Podcasts, columns, merch, and more at Savage.Love!
CULTURE
Free Will Astrology
By Rob Brezsny
ARIES: March 21 – April 19
In medieval Europe, beekeepers made formal reports to their hives of significant events in the human world, like births, deaths, marriages, and departures. They believed the bees needed to be continually informed so as to ensure robust honey production. The practice was called “telling the bees.” Let’s make this an inspiring story for you in the coming weeks, Aries. I invite you to keep your community fully apprised of what’s happening in your life. Proceed on the assumption that sharing your plans and changes with others will generate harmony and support. Like the beekeepers, you may discover that keeping your community in the loop will strengthen your bonds and sweeten your endeavors.
TAURUS: April 20 – May 20
A regular guy named Jesse Ronnebaum bought an old painting at a yard sale for 50 cents. For the next ten years, it hung on the wall in his living room. Then he noticed a dim inscription
on the painting that suggested maybe it was more valuable than he realized. Consulting an art dealer, he discovered it was an unusual composition that featured the work of seven prominent artists — and was worth a lot of money. Ronnebaum said, “Years of struggling, barely making bills, and the whole time there’s $50,000 hanging over my head, literally.” I am predicting metaphorically comparable events unfolding in your life during the coming months, Taurus. Hidden value will no longer be hidden. You will potentize neglected sources of wealth and finally recognize subtle treasures.
GEMINI: May 21 – June 20
In Namibia’s arid grasslands, fairy circles periodically emerge. They are highly regular rings of bare land encompassed by vegetation. What causes them? Supernatural entities, as believed by the local people? Sand termites or hydrogenloving microbes, according to a few scientists? As yet, no definitive explanation has emerged. I love that! I cherish mysteries that thwart attempts at rational explanation. In accordance with astrological omens, Gemini, I invite you to specialize in tantalizing and unsolvable enigmas in the coming weeks. Your soul needs rich doses of provocative riddles, mysterious truths, and fun puzzles. Exult in the liberating declaration, “I don’t know!”
CANCER: June 21 – July 22
Wherever you wander, be alert for signals that remind you of who you used to be. This will stimulate your creative speculation about who you want to evolve into during the next few years. As you ruminate about your history, you will get inspirations about who you want to become. The past will speak vividly, in ways that hint at your best possible future. So welcome clues from people who are no longer alive. Be receptive to old allies and influences that are no longer a central part of your world.
LEO: July 23 – August 22
“Crown shyness” is a phenomenon seen among some trees like lodgepole pines. In forests, they grow big and strong and tall, yet avoid touching each other at their tops. This creates canopies full of pronounced gaps. What causes this curious phenomenon? First, if branches don’t brush up against each other, harmful insects find it harder to spread from tree to tree. Second, when winds blow, branches are less likely to collide with each other and cause damage. There’s a
third benefit: More sunlight penetrates to the forest floor, nourishing animals and other plants. I propose that you adopt crown shyness as a metaphor for your use, Leo. Express your beauty to the max — be bold and vivid and radiant — but also provide plenty of space for your allies to shine. Be your authentically amazing self, but create boundaries that allow others to be their amazing selves.
VIRGO: August 23 – Sept. 22
Some astrologers assert that you Virgos suffer from an ambition deficit. They authoritatively assert that a fiery aspiration to achieve greatness never burns hot within you. But in the coming months, I will work to show you a different perspective. Let’s start now: Many of you Virgos are highly skilled at being self-sufficient. But sometimes this natural strength warps into a hesitancy to ask for help and support. And that can diminish your ability to fulfill your ambitions. My goal will be to celebrate and nurture your self-sufficiency even as I coach you to be dynamic about gathering all the assistance you can.
LIBRA: Sept. 23 – Oct. 22
Life is not fair. In the coming days, you will be odd proof of this fact. That’s because you are likely to be the beneficiary of uncommon luck. The only kind of karma that will be operating in your vicinity will be good karma. X-factors and wild cards will be more available to you than usual. Your timing will be impeccable, and your intuition will be extra incisive. You may even be tempted to theorize that life is conspiring to bring you an extra supply of meaningful experiences. Here’s the clincher: If anyone in your sphere is prone to feeling envy because you’re flourishing, your charm will defuse it.
SCORPIO: Oct. 23 – Nov. 21:
Here are three questions to ruminate on: 1. What resources are you afraid you will run out of or squander? 2. What if your fear of running out or squandering these resources obstructs your ability to understand what you need to know and do so that you won’t run out or squander them? 3. How can you dissolve the fear and feel confident that the necessary resources will keep steadily flowing in, and you will use them well?
SAGITTARIUS: Nov. 22 – Dec. 21
Most stars have at least one companion star, sometimes two. Our sun, which is all alone, is in the minority. Astronomers have found evidence that our home star once had a companion but lost it. Is there any chance of this situation changing in the future? Might our sun eventually link up with a new compatriot? It’s not likely. But in contrast to our sun’s fate, I suspect that 2025 will offer you a significant diminishment in your personal loneliness quotient. If you crave more camaraderie and togetherness, the coming months will be a favorable time to seek them out. Your meditation question: What’s the opposite of loneliness?
CAPRICORN: Dec. 22 – Jan. 19
In the coming weeks, your authenticity will be your greatest strength. The more genuine and honest you are, the more life will reward you. Be alert for situations that may seem to demand camouflage when in fact they will ultimately reward your complete transparency. You will be most powerful and attractive as you allow yourself to be fully seen. You can even use your vulnerability to your advantage. Be openly, clearly, unabashedly yourself.
AQUARIUS: Jan. 20 – Feb. 18
As I envision your life in the coming weeks, I am moved to compare you to certain birds. First, there will be similarities between you and the many species that can literally perceive Earth’s magnetic fields, seeing them as patterns of shadow and light overlaid on their regular vision. You, too, will have an uncanny multi-dimensional awareness that helps guide your travels. Secondly, Aquarius, you will be like the migrating songbirds that recalibrate their internal compass every day when the sun sets. In other words, you will make steady efforts to ensure that your magical ways of knowing are grounded in earthy rhythms.
PISCES: Feb.19 – March 20
In some Polynesian cultures, there is a belief that one’s mistakes, including excessive anger, can cause physical sickness. Hawaiians traditionally have employed a ritual remedy for such ills called ho’oponopono. It includes acts of atonement, forgiveness, and correction. It may even involve a prayer conference where all the people involved talk about their mutual problems with respect and compassion, seeking solutions and restitution. The coming weeks will be a fantastically favorable time for you to carry out your own version of ho’oponopono, Pisces.
Homework: Make two promises to yourself: one that›s easy to keep and one at the edge of your capacity to fulfill.
JAMES NOELLERT
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