#detroit: became family event

[rhinozilla]

Detroit: Become Family 2022 - Prompt 7: Fake

@dbh-found-family

Don’t laugh.

Don’t laugh.

For the love of God, don’t laugh.

Hank hoped that putting that mantra on a mental loop would give him the strength enough to maintain his composure as he set eyes on Connor’s getup that evening.

“This looks ridiculous,” Connor was already complaining. “The goal of going undercover is to blend in and not be recognizable.”

Hank kept his hand flat over his mouth, covering the grin that was threatening to slip out. He surveyed his friend from head to toe, then back up to his face.

“Well…you are certainly not recognizable.”

Tonight’s stakeout was set at a truck stop just outside the city limits. A lot of rough-around-the-edges folks had made the Gas-And-Go station a hot spot for shady business and meetups. Intel from one of Hank’s old contacts had started to smell like a weapons trafficking ring was making the place a regular rendezvous point for deals. Now Fowler had given Hank and Connor the go-ahead to stake out the place and, if the intel proved good, to send Connor in undercover for some more up-close reconnaissance.

For Hank, this was not a big deal. Don’t shave for a couple days, dig out an old grungy hat to wear, and drive around a construction lot for a while to get a good coat of gravel dust on his car. Boom, he was invisible now.

For Connor, this really shouldn’t have been a big deal. How often had he mentioned that he was equipped with all kinds of appearance modification templates and software that allowed him to change his hair, eyes, facial structure, all the way to his freckle patterns and dental alignment? But all Hank could remember was that damn beanie that he’d worn to go “undercover” at Jericho during the revolution. Just a beanie and some of Hank’s clothes. And damn if it hadn’t worked.

But this wasn’t the chaos of an old freighter full of android refugees in the midst of a revolution. This was a small group of weapons dealers at some quiet, hole-in-the-wall gas station on the edge of town. It was going to take more than a beanie for Connor not to stick out like a sore thumb.

So he stood before Hank now in his best attempt…plus some of Tina and Chris’s input.

The work boots and jeans were fine. The unbuttoned green plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off was a bit much, as was the faded grey t-shirt underneath that had the emblem for the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers emblazoned across the chest. He’d programmed his hair to be longer, just past his ears, though it was all hidden under a nondescript dull red colored hat for some local body shop or other.

His LED had been painted over with makeup, and he’d done some modifying to his skin program, making him look tired around the eyes and with a fading bruise on his jaw.

“Well…you certainly don’t look like a cop,” Hank tried to compliment him.

Connor groaned and looked down at himself.

“This is not what I would have chosen to wear for this assignment.”

“That’s the point,” Hank said, gesturing toward the door to leave the bullpen and leading the way. “We aren’t Hank and Connor once we get in the car for this stakeout. We’re a couple of down-on-their-luck guys who are wary of the increasing crime rates around the city, and we want to score some illegal weapons from the guys rumored to be selling out at the Gas-And-Go.”

Connor was still grumbling as they left the station, and it was equal parts humorous and annoying.

“Didn’t they teach you all this in robot school?” Hank teased. “Where is all that bravado you had back when you were bragging about how you would be the perfect officer to go undercover?”

Connor slouched slightly as he walked, though Hank wasn’t sure if it was due to his mood or if he was trying out a different gait for tonight.

“The most undercover work that I’ve ever done in the field has been about infiltration,” Connor admitted. “Blending in for the purpose of passing under the radar and gaining access to difficult locations. Not…pretending to be someone I’m not for…direct interaction with suspects. I can do it, it’ll be fine, but I’m…admittedly a little nervous about maintaining this disguise believably.”

Hank tutted at that as they approached the Oldsmobile.

“Hey, coming up with an undercover persona is easy…and it’s fun. You’re being too grumpy about all this.” Hank popped open his driver’s side door, paused, and stared into the middle distance in thought. “Tonight…I’m Jake. I have a loving husband at home who doesn’t know that I lost my job six months ago. I’ve been hitting casinos to try and get fast cash to make rent and pay the bills.” He narrowed his eyes dramatically. “But my luck at the tables has been running out fast, and I borrowed some money from some bad guys who want their money back. Now I need some protection, and I need it cheap and off the books.”

Connor stared at him, slowly tilting his head as if looking at Hank for the first time.

Hank stared back at him, fully in character as Jake, before he straightened up and grinned.

“All right. Your turn,” he prompted.

Connor looked agonizingly self consciousness for a long moment, fidgeting before forcing his hands to still at his sides. He cocked his head, leaned forward, propped his forearm on the roof of the car, and looked at Hank solemnly.

“My name is…Franklin. I’m a rebel who doesn’t play by the rules of society—”

Hank snorted into a fist, leaning against the open driver door and pointing at him. “Holy shit, you CANNOT base your undercover persona on that duck you saw at the park last month.”

Connor blinked, frowned, and leaned further into it. “He was a dastardly mallard, Hank. He upset the hierarchy and…took frozen corn and peas that weren’t his to take.”

Hank laughed and kept a hold on the door for balance. Jesus Christ, it was almost hard to tell if Connor was being serious or just really taking the piss out of him right now.

“No, no, you can’t do that,” Hank cackled, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Connor dropped the act with a scowl. “You said it was easy and fun—”

“Yeah, but you go in there calling yourself Franklin, and I’m gonna give us up by laughing too hard,” Hank chuckled. He gestured at him. “Go on. Try something else.”

Connor rolled his shoulders, still looking sour, before perking up with a new idea.

“I’m a recovering Red Ice addict. I’ve stayed clean for a year, but it’s been hard since my sister went missing. I work at a burrito shop during the day, and I pick up nightshifts at a local bar. I am…extremely popular with the ladies. My name is…Calvin.” He finished it off with a waggle of eyebrows and a wink.

It was horrifying and hilarious at the same time.

Hank pursed his lips hard against the grin fighting to escape, and he nodded.

“That’s…good. S’good.” He snickered and tapped the roof of the car. “We can workshop it on the way.”

He dropped down into the driver’s seat. Connor sat down in the passenger seat a beat later. He looked unhappy with Hank’s critique.

“Franklin wouldn’t have tolerated being spoken to that way.”

Hank snorted and started the engine. “Well, Franklin’s not coming tonight. So come on, Calvin, stop flirting with all the ladies and let’s go buy some illegal firearms. IT’S MORPHIN’ TIME!”

Connor looked at him flatly, and Hank gave him a shit-eating grin before reversing the car out of the parking lot, leaving Hank and Connor behind…so Jake and Calvin could hit the road.

[golby-moon]

today for @dbh-found-family's Detroit: Become Family event I decided to first of all actually fill a prompt (sorry I keep skipping ://) and second actually post something. naturally with such high personally set requirements I came up with this which unfortunately showcases the inverse relationship between effort and personal likeability of my stuff

Prompt 7: Confidence

for this I was originally gonna have both Hank and Connor getting ready to go to work and really looking the part but the tiny mirror made fitting more than one person in awkward and it somehow became this, thus further proving that the less effort I put into something the more I like it (to some extend)

(05/24/24)

[highway80stories]

Listen/purchase: Water Fountains by Highway 80 Stories

During Mike Broussard’s early childhood, his family lived in Shreveport, Louisiana, but later he moved to Vivian where he owned a business and lived out the remainder of his life. The experience described in this song, when Mike was twelve years old, affected his attitude towards race relations from then on. One of the oldest movie theaters in Shreveport was The Strand. It had different entrances for blacks and whites and water fountains marked for the different races, as well. During the ’60s, most southern cities had two simultaneous phenomena: demographically a significant percentage of the population was African-American (Shreveport was about 60% black) and as a consequence whites and blacks unofficially interacted a lot. The other aspect was a policy of official segregation. This manifested itself in a myriad of ways beyond the obvious, e.g. separate drinking fountains and different entrances to movie theaters. However, relationships between whites and blacks could be warm and friendly despite official segregation. Into the demographic mix were other ingredients. Louisiana had a relatively large number of Italian Americans, mostly Sicilians. These immigrants also experienced some discrimination, and in general did not share the otherwise pervasive white attitudes about African-Americans. When Mike Broussard served in Vietnam he met an African-American from Detroit, D.W. Washington, and they became life-long friends. Mike and D.W. talked about their plans when their tours were over, and D.W. went back to Vivian with Mike and they operated a filling station and auto repair shop for more than forty years. D.W. was Mike’s closest friend. © 2019 Frank David Leone, Jr./Highway 80 Music (ASCAP). The songs and stories on the Highway 80 Stories website are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. 

[duefault]

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢 𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗧.

𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘 : zen'in maki ( 禪院真希 ).

𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 :

zen'in maki ( 禪院真希 ) —

in zen'in ( 禪院 ) , 'zen' ( 禪 ) is a translation of chinese chán, which ultimately comes from sanskrit dhyāna meaning meditation. ( 院 ) in means 'institution'

in maki ( 真希 ), 'ma' ( 真 ) means "real" or "genuine," and ki ( 希 ) means "hope".

zen'in can roughly be translated to 'zen hall/temple' - interesting to note that the school of zen buddhism likens its teachings as a finger pointing to the moon. in that, its teachings can lead to enlightenment - but there is caution not to get stuck focusing on the finger. essentially, not getting stuck in dogma or the teachings themselves but the fruit of the teachings. for an incredibly dogmatic and conservative clan, there is definitely some irony when you look at it through that lens.

𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 : maki first and foremost. people generally only call her by zen'in once before learning not to do so again.

𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗧𝗬 : asian ( japanese ).

𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 :

- maki's family initially pushed her take up naginata when she was younger. however, after witnessing the kendo class going on at the same time she relented and insisted on doing kendo instead. eventually her parents permitted her. this was considered a little out of the ordinary as kendo and naginata are traditionally ( wrongfully, of course ) understood as 'men' and 'women' sports respectively. she trained alongside another girl in the class named umeko, who became an early ( but soon drifted apart from ) friend of hers. - maki is a pretty inept cook; not for lack of trying or inability but she simply prefers the tastes of 'junk food' - her palette is sometimes a subject of jokes among her classmates. but she is content with easy snacks and fried food. - maki has a pretty poor concept of money; moreso than the average teenager even. being raised in the zen'in family generally meant there was no shortage of money for comforts and luxuries. she tries to be cognizant of this financially privledged upbringing ( and certainly never flaunts it ) but the logistics of saving money and the worth of certain objects doesn't necessarily click with her.

𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗗𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 :

- fishing. its simple, its quiet and low-stress. when she was younger she'd find her way down to creeks and other wooded areas to get away from her family and the general hustle and bustle of downtown. she'd occasionally bump into groups of fishermen who'd let her hold the fish they'd catch. - running. its her most enjoyed form of physical fitness. she prefers to wake up early in the morning, before anyone else is up, and get in a long run through the empty streets of town. she's more focused on stamina and distance over speed. her long-term goal is to compete in an ultramarathon (100 mi long race) - watching baseball. maki is a big fan of baseball ( and, as evidenced by the goodwill event certainly capable of playing it well as well ) while her favorite team are the saitama lions, she is a fan of kenta maeda and has followed his career onto the detroit lions when he transitioned to the MLB

𝗦𝗜𝗫 𝗣𝗘𝗢𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 / 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗦 :

- yuuta: while the two had a rocky start she has come to have immense respect for him and his growth as both a person and a jujutsushi - inumaki and panda: classmates who have become great friends, understanding of her circumstances and always willing to support each other - nobara: someone who's not afraid of speaking her mind and sees through others, something maki finds both refreshing and comforting. she enjoys spending her free time with her, which says a lot as maki values her alone-time when she can get it. - mai: despite it all, maki does love her sister. that is why she executes her last wish with no regrets. the blade she carries now is a reminder of that love, which manifested in the ultimate sacrifice someone can make for another. - megumi & yuji: while their antics can be a little much sometimes, maki has a fair deal of respect for the first-years after seeing what their capable of. - jotaro: while she doesn't quite understand his cool nature at first, she comes to learn that he has a heart of gold and the willpower to always go above and beyond to protect those he cares about

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗦 :

- after shibuya, maki does regret having spent most of her time with mai fighting. although it was inevitable they'd clash she wishes they could have spent more time together after coming to terms with their predicament. its not a regret that causes her to place any blame on herself, rather a regret that they were dealt this hand. a regret that mai couldn't at least have had the life she wanted to. - spending more time with others when she had the chance; chiefly nobara. though hours of training paid off, she didn't realize just how little time she'd have to spend with everyone until after shibuya. if she knew their time as "just highschool students" was so fleeting she would've spent more weekends at the mall or arcade with everyone.

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗔𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗔𝗦 :

- losing herself or her drive, mostly compromising her ideals. this is something she worries about moreso prior to confronting the zen'in clan; but it is something she is always cognizant of. she has a worry in the back of her mind that she'll be tempted to take the easy route, to conform back to what the zen'in wish of her. it seems like an irrational phobia for someone so driven and outspoken about her goals but nevertheless its one of those fears that sits just below the surface. - i honestly cannot think of another at the moment but this is something i want to come to back to so im going to put a pin in it !

tagged by : @waraningyo (thank you!!) tagging : @goodgrieved / @omezuki ( your choice ! ), @vessuna @mellodiies @dontm0ve @reqciems ( mai, or your choice ! ) @pontevoix ( haibara or gojo ! ) and anyone else pls steal

[justforbooks]

Daniel Ellsberg, who has died aged 92, was the most important whistleblower of our times. His 1971 leaking of what became known as the Pentagon Papers showed conclusively that virtually everything the American public had been told by its leaders about the Vietnam war, from its origins to its current conduct, was false.

The leak itself did not end the war, and Ellsberg regretted not having come forward years earlier. He spent the rest of his life as a peace activist, encouraging others on the inside to reveal government malfeasance, and supporting those who did, including the 2003 GCHQ whistleblower Katharine Gun. But his leaks did result in a landmark decision in favour of freedom of the press, and, ironically, led to the downfall of the US president Richard Nixon. It is not unreasonable to set Ellsberg’s leak alongside President John F Kennedy’s assassination as the ground zero of today’s distrust of politics.

Before working on the Pentagon Papers, officially a study titled A History of Decision-Making in Vietnam 1945-68 commissioned from the Rand Corporation research organisation by the secretary of defense Robert McNamara, Ellsberg had spent two years at the US embassy in Saigon, advising on General Edward Lansdale’s “pacification” programme. As he sifted through the material gathered for the report, including evaluations which deemed the war unwinnable, he realised the enormity of the political fraud.

He began copying the documents, with the help of a former Rand colleague Anthony Russo, and in 1971, as the US extended the war with bombings of Laos and Cambodia, resolved to make them public. The chair of the senate foreign relations committee, William Fulbright, turned him down, as did the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee and owner Katharine Graham; Graham was close to the secretary of state Henry Kissinger, who had known Ellsberg at Harvard; he advised her Ellsberg was “unbalanced and emotionally unstable”. Matthew Rhys played Ellsberg in the 2017 film The Post which loosely covers those events.

Neil Sheehan of the New York Times was a reporter Ellsberg admired in Vietnam; Sheehan convinced the Times to take the papers, the first instalment of which revealed that the Gulf of Tonkin incident, the casus belli which launched full-scale US participation in the conflict, had been bogus.

The Nixon administration obtained an injunction prohibiting further publication; the supreme court’s overturning of that injunction, dismissing the idea of “prior restraint”, remains a cornerstone of US journalistic freedom. But leakers themselves were not protected. Ellsberg was hidden by anti-war activists while Mike Gravel, the US senator from Alaska, entered most of the leaked papers into the congressional record, and the Post played catch-up.

Meanwhile Nixon, furious at the leaks, created the so-called “plumbers” covert special investigation unit, to discover if Ellsberg had further material that might affect him directly, and to discredit him. When the plumbers’ bungled break-in at the Watergate offices revealed an earlier burglary of Ellsberg’s psychiatrist’s office, the ensuing chain of scandal and cover-up eventually forced Nixon’s resignation to avoid impeachment.

Ellsberg grew up the very definition of a true believer in America. Both his father, Harry, a structural engineer, and mother, Adele (nee Charsky), were the children of Russian Jewish immigrants, but had converted to Christian Science. When Daniel, born in Chicago, was six, his father found work in Detroit, building Ford’s massive Willow Run factory.

Daniel won a scholarship to the elite Cranbrook school in the Detroit suburbs; a talented pianist, he practised for four to six hours a day to fulfil his mother’s dream. But in 1946, rushing to Denver for a family gathering, his father fell asleep while driving and rammed into a bridge. His mother and younger sister, Gloria, both died; Daniel recovered from his severe injuries, but ceased playing the piano.

He won a scholarship to Harvard, where he studied economics, edited the college paper, and finished third in his class. Upon graduation he married a Radcliffe student, Carol Cummings, whose father was a colonel in the Marine Corps, and took up a Wilson fellowship for a year’s study at King’s College, Cambridge. In 1954, accepted as a Harvard junior fellow to pursue his doctorate, he instead joined the Marines, becoming a rare first lieutenant given command of a full company.

He returned to Harvard in 1957. His dissertation, Risk, Ambiguity and Decision, contained what is now known as the Ellsberg paradox, which delineated how the preference for well-defined probabilities, over the uncertainty of ambiguity, influences decision-making, especially as it reinforces preconceived ideas. It became an important part of game theory, and Ellsberg went to work for Rand on the Department of Defense’s Command and Control research, much of which was devoted to spit-balling Fail Safe/Dr Strangelove scenarios, as detailed in his 2017 book The Doomsday Machine: Confessions of a Nuclear War Planner.

In 1964 he went to the Department of Defense, as special assistant for international security to McNamara’s number two, John McNaughton, before moving to the State Department and Vietnam. In 1967 he rejoined Rand to work on McNamara’s project, but was increasingly tormented by Kissinger and Nixon’s Vietnam policy; they believed that if the US opened relations with China and entered into a detente with Russia, those countries would pressure North Vietnam to come to the table while the US bombed incessantly.

Ellsberg began joining anti-war campaigners, including the poet Gary Snyder, and was inspired by Randy Kehler, a draft-resister who spoke of welcoming imprisonment for his belief. Ellsberg left Washington for MIT’s Centre for International Studies a year before leaking the papers. His first marriage had ended in divorce; in 1970 he married Patricia Marx, a peace activist.

In June 1971, he surrendered himself to the US attorney in Boston; asked on the courthouse steps how he felt about going to prison, Ellsberg replied: “Wouldn’t you go to prison to end this war?” He became the first civilian charged with violating the 1917 Espionage Act, and faced a maximum sentence of 115 years. The District Court judge William Byrne ruled irrelevant his public-interest defence, that the documents were “illegally classified”, and so it has been for every whistleblower since. But Byrne eventually dismissed the case because of government malfeasance, including the plumbers’ break-ins, as well as Nixon’s wiretapping of Kissinger’s aide Morton Halperin, and John Ehrlichman’s offering Byrne the directorship of the FBI.

In 1974, Ellsberg’s moving interviews were a major part of the Oscar-winning Vietnam documentary Hearts and Minds. In 1978 he was awarded the Gandhi prize by Promoting Enduring Peace. In the next 40 years he was arrested around 50 times at anti-war protests. He likened the weapons of mass destruction excuse for invading Iraq in 2003 to the Gulf of Tonkin affair, and over the years supported leakers who revealed government deceptions, including Edward Snowden, Chelsea Manning and Reality Winner, who was sentenced to five years in prison for leaking a single page from an in-house National Security Agency magazine showing the NSA had concluded Russia interfered in US elections, while the government was maintaining they had not.

He recognised a practical corollary to the Ellsberg paradox: the more secrets you are able to access, the less able you become to act sensibly with them. In 2021, Ellsberg released government memos from 1958, showing that the joint chiefs of staff had prepared a nuclear first-strike against Chinese bases on Quemoy and Matsu during the Taiwan Strait crisis, with a full nuclear attack planned on China should they respond. His point was that little had changed since the Pentagon Papers.

Ellsberg was played by James Spader in the 2003 film The Pentagon Papers, and was the subject of a 2009 documentary, The Most Dangerous Man in America. His memoir, Secrets, appeared in 2003 and in 2021 Risk Ambiguity and Decision was updated as a book, once again challenging the concept of rational decision.

Ellsberg is survived by his wife and their son, Michael, and his son, Robert, and daughter, Mary, from his first marriage.

Daniel Ellsberg, military analyst and political activist, born 7 April 1931; died 16 June 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[kevinpshanblog]

RIP Trixie Norton

Joyce Randolph, the last surviving cast member of "The Honeymooners", died on Saturday at the age of 99. She passed away of natural causes at her home in New York City, according to her son.

Randolph was best known for her role as Trixie Norton, the witty and loyal wife of Ed Norton (Art Carney), the sewer worker and best friend of Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason). Trixie often teamed up with Alice Kramden (Audrey Meadows) to deal with their husbands' antics and schemes.

"The Honeymooners" was one of the most influential sitcoms of all time, depicting the struggles and joys of working-class families in the 1950s. The show first aired as a sketch on "Cavalcade of Stars" and "The Jackie Gleason Show", before becoming a standalone series on CBS in 1955 and 1956. Although it only produced 39 episodes, the show has been rerun and syndicated for decades, and inspired countless other comedies.

Randolph was born in Detroit to a Finnish American family. She started her career in theater and television, appearing in shows such as "Buck Rogers". Gleason spotted her in a commercial and cast her as Trixie in 1951. She became so identified with the role that she had difficulty finding other parts after the show ended. She later appeared in some TV shows and commercials, and remained active in charity and fan events.

Randolph was married to Richard Lincoln Charles, a film editor, from 1955 until his death in 1997. She is survived by their son, Randolph Richard Charles.

Joyce Randolph will be remembered as a talented and beloved actress, who brought laughter and warmth to millions of viewers. She was a true icon of television history, and a part of the "Honeymooners" family that will never be forgotten. Rest in peace, Trixie.

[sayuricorner]

Transformers Animated prompt idea: Earth raised bots AU: More Earth Bots profiles

Here’s some other profiles and headcanons of Earth bots from the “Earth raised bots AU”! ^^

Warning: References to the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

(UPDATE: New oc added)

--------------------------------------------------------------------

->Browning:

-Is the tiniest of the Earth Bots.

-”Birthdate”: 13 september 1988 in japan

-Was took in by a young japanese man in Osaka.

-Has a kansai japanese accent.

-Is a warframe(?) gun.

-Alt mode: browning gun

-He was named browning because of his alt form.

-Was named Browning because of his alt mode.

-Despite his size, Browning is a bot who didn’t let others step on him and know how to voice his opinion.

-Is very resourceful and is capable to put up a fight.

-Since he is so small this make him undetectablesecurity systems making him a very good spy.

-Is a little shit with a heart of gold.

-Call Jadwiga “boss”.

-Hang on most of the time on other Earth Bots’s shoulders to avoid being step on.

-Love mecha, kaiju and sentai animes/TV shows.

-His favorite tv show is Kamen Rider.

-He is a fan of Godzilla movies.

-When Wasp brough to the Earth Bots community and was given political asylium, Browning voluntered himself to become his “emotional pet support”, an idea that Rung liked ‘cause he noticed that Wasp became very uncomfortable and anxious when around bots bigger than him and could badly trigger him so having a very small bot as an emotional support would be very good for Wasp.

-Is protective toward Wasp and help him to calm down when he is badly triggered.

-(Fun fact 1: Browning is originally a decepticon character from the anime “Transformers: super-god masterforce”).

-(Fun fact 2: His “birthdate” in the AU is the airdate of the episode in which hr got introduced “The Autobot Warrior, Sixknight?!”).

->Sakura:

-One of the oldest Earth Bots

-Birthdate: 30 March 1930 in japan

-Was found and adopted by a family in Nagasaki.

-Had a japanese accent.

-Was named “Sakura” ‘cause she appeared at the start of the cherry blossom season.

-Is a civilframe motorcycle.

-Alt form: motorcycle

-She and her adopted siblings lost their parents in atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Sakura and her siblings didn’t get caught in the bombing as their parents send them to Yamaguchi days before to extented family for a small vacation, unfortunatly the parents stayed at Nagasaki and end up victims of the bombing.

-Since this tragedy, Sakura looked after her siblings and their families through the years.

-When Sakura met Jadwiga and the other Earth Bots, she was very hesitant at first to go live in the community in Detroit and leave her family behind but her adopted family convinced her to go.

-Is a hard-working femme who’s always ready to help others.

-Had anxiety problems.

-Had PTSD due to the trauma of her adopted parents’s death.

-Had regular therapy sessions with Rung.

-Is one of the scientists of the community.

-Had interest in science since the first times of her existence.

-Like to sudy technologies, science theories and biology.

-Develop technologies and equipement for the Earth Bots.

->Skyfire:

-Is a cybertronian shuttle who was burried in the ice of the Artic for hundred of years.

-Was found by the Earth Bots during the TFA events and was traited and woke up by Knock Out with Ratchet’s help.

-Was shocked to learn how long he have been buried in the ice and that there’s a conflict on Cybertron.

-Is also extremely worried ‘cause he had a conjunx who was his science partner and Skyfire is very worry about what happen to him while he was trapped in the Artic.

-Don’t want to be involved in the Autobot/Decepticon conflict as he is a scientist and not a soldier and was offered to become member of the Earth Bots who are also neutral in the conflict, an offer that Skyfire accepted.

-Skyfire’s objective: Find out what happened to his conjunx and reuniting with him.

-Act as a mentor toward the Earth Bots scientists.

-Share with the Earth Bots stories about how were Cybertron he had knew before his accident.

-Is a gentle giant.

->Pele:

-One of the youngest of the Earth Bots

-Had appeared in a volcano in Hawaii.

-Was adopted by an hawaiian family.

-Birthdate: 22 April 2008(or fifty years before the TFA canon)

-Was named Pele after the hawaiian godess of volcanos and fire.

-Is considered as one of the baby siblings by the community.

-Is a warframe seeker.

-Her frame had the ability to resist the highest temperature, she can even take a swim into lava if she wanted.

-Alt form: A jet.

-Is a playful femme who’s very curious about things.

-She like to observe things and people to learn how things around her work.

-Is a passionate of hawaiian fire dancing.

->Mulan(OC by StephanieNolmans  on Wattpad):

-One of the oldest Earth Bots.

-"Birthdate": March 01, 1928 in China.

-Was took in by a Shaolin temple.

-She was named after the legendary chinese heroine Hua Mulan.

-Is a civilframe motorcycle.

-Alt form: Motorcycle.

-She became a disciple and was taugh martial arts by the master of the temple along with the other disciples.

-She was one of the first Earth Bots Jadwiga met when the latter decided to travel around the world in hope to find others like her after WWII.

-After she left the temple to go live in the Earth Bots community, she learnt other martial arts.

-Her favorite martial arts are kung fu and karate.

-She love peace and calm, especially when she meditate.

-She's a disciplined femme who like to had a structured and organised life.

-Since she lived in a isolated temple most of her life before becoming a member of the EarthBots community, Mulan had difficulties to socialize and because of that she is rather shy with people/bots she just met, making her a bit of a loner.

-Bumblebee one time told she was like a "Prowl 2.0" as a joke.

-She use as a weapon a shaolin sword she forged herself.

-She's a good fighter and train everyday.

-Thank to her shaolin training, she cultivate the cybertronian equivalent of Ki which make her develop abilities which shock bots from Cybertron as normally no cybertronian motorcycle is able to do the things she could.

-However, she still working on developping her "ki abilities" and on learning to had a perfect control of them.

----------------------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@wassupbroseph , @astridkolch

[fungi-maestro]

You like detectives, you like robots, you should like detective robots. You should take a look at DBH.

I appreciate the media recommendation, but. Pass.

I did actually watch a playthrough of DBH when it came out (someone I was really into liked it, so I wanted to know about it so we could talk about it) and I really wasn't impressed. I'm not going to go into the issues with the content and implications of the story, plenty of people have done that more eloquently and more comprehensive than I have and I really encourage you to take a look at those. Google "Detroit Become Human Racism" and plenty of stuff will come up that says it better than I could. Go ahead. It won't take you very long. I'll wait here. If you aren't feeling sleuthy, here's a quick read that should give you a basic idea of the lazy way Cage explores the themes of race in the game.

I'll stick to what I can say easily as a robot and mystery enjoyer, it sucked bad. Concise and to the point.

At first I thought the androids were appealing, but it doesn't hold up when you think about it at all. It's surface level and bland, and combined with the way they treat race, it isn't done well at all. It's all been done before in better ways and there's nothing unique about the DBH approach to "Robots become sentient" that you wouldn't get Better somewhere else. Read "I, Robot" (it's what I've been blogging about today! It's very good!) or "R.U.R." (that one's available for free at the Gutenberg website and is the origin of the word robot!) or, hell, watch Star Trek (Data is an android detective!) or even, if you're into it, the first season of Westworld (I didn't much like it after that, but the first season blew me away!). You'll get a better story about finding humanity in a human shaped machine in any of those. Go play Portal or watch 2001 if you like the AI plot. I don't care. There's better options.

The detective stuff sucked too. It's basically Heavy Rain, which I've played many times with my family to make fun of how bad the crime solving is. It's not good. Nothing about it is titillating or interesting at all. You'll find better detective stories on literally anything else. Go watch one of the millions of shows or read the millions of books in the genre you want a detective story that is interesting and also doesn't suck. Go read a comic book if you really want to. Who cares. If you watch enough Columbo, maybe he'll stick his fingers in his mouth like Connor does and you can be horny about some other detective (because let's all be honest. That's what the fan space surrounding that thing is built around, right? Being horny for the androids? There are better robots to be horny for. Better detectives, too. Get better taste.) If it's the Choose Your Own Adventure style gameplay, then that genre is booming right now! There's so many great titles in it that aren't made by a lazy writer like Cage. Go play any of them and I won't judge you when your head pops off and rolls away after the story isn't a slog of quicktime events and cheesy dialogue.

I'm going to finish this off by saying that I don't want any weird anons about this. It's my final opinion and you will not change my mind by sending me anything. Also, let's be real again, if you're a DBH fan in 2022, I'm not changing your mind either. Unless you genuinely didn't know there were better options. There are. Go look at them and then report back to me.

Anyway, the TLDR is: I already took a look at DBH and I didn't really like what I saw. I'll stick to stories about robots and detectives that don't suck and don't have these kinds of serious issues that have been talked about since the concept became public knowledge.

[captawesomesauce]

Thoughts at 650pm

I have friends who are very passionate about their culture. I have worked hard to assist them in their exploration and exercise of same. It is important to them, so that made it important to me. That is why many of you saw that I worked very hard with the Native American transfer group at UCLA as well as other groups. If they needed me to guide them through the red tape and documentation of putting on an event, or to answer general questions in a panel or 1-on-1, or even just to be a driver, or check in person at the door. If they needed it to make their event happen, I was willing to put in the time and effort... Because it was important to them.

And it was important to the people the events helped. It was important to their community, and their culture.

But I never really took the time to explore my own... and I have been thinking about that a lot.

My experiences with my culture have been almost one sidedly bad. From Hebrew school to Jewish camps, to dealing with a certain element of my family that is orthodox, the memories I have of these experiences are almost all negative. I was not put into situations where the people were like me... they did not dress like me, talk like me, sound like me, think like me, or act like me. I was an outsider.

They started speaking hebrew from birth, and knew the mishna, the talmud, the rituals and songs. They had memories attached to each, they had friends built on the experiences, they existed within the culture and helped grow it. It was practiced at home, at school, in all aspects of life.

My mother was as secular as they came. Pork Chops, shrimp, no hebrew education at all, no anything. She knew of things tangentially, but it was never practiced. My father was the same way. We didn't keep shabbos, we didn't go to shul, we didn't do much.

My paternal grandparents both escaped the pogroms and the holocaust and spoke yiddish, german, and russian as their primary languages. Their English was good though, but conversations were like many in families like that... a little of this, a little of that, a lot of the other. Zeyde was an alter kaker, their neighbor was a mamzer, my sister was full of mishigas, and the computer that never worked was always the farshtunkene machine!

I didn't know my maternal grandparents well at all. Grandpa's family came over earlier, and he went through the great depression in the US. His dad left when he was very young and he got a job with the railroads when he was barely a teenager. While they lived in the Jewish part of Detroit, it wasn't a part of their day in-day out. Grandma I know nothing about, except everyone hated her.

The thing is, my mothers sister was very frum orthodox. And I have cousins who also became either very conservative or orthodox, and we have a lot of family in Israel that have been there for generations.

But I don't really know them, or have any relationship to them besides knowing they exist.

I grew up isolated from them, from my extended family, and ultimately from my culture.

Attempts to enter, or learn more were unpleasant at best, and remain so. Be it the cultural aspect, or the religious aspect. To be frank, I doubt I could ever be religious after what I have seen and experienced throughout the world. There can be no higher power that allows such things to exist... there can be no higher power that deserves respect, love, or worship for the pain and suffering that exists because of him.

I mention this because I am currently reading Steven Pressfields "The Lion's Gate" about the Six Day war between Israel and the Arab armies, and I came across this section in which Moshe Dayan says:

Begin is one kind of Jew. Eshkol is another. I am like neither.

My experience is founded neither in Russia nor in Europe. I am a sabra. I was born here in Israel. I know nothing of the Talmud and I don’t want to know. I have no use for Yiddish. The so-called Jewish experience, which shaped my mother and father and other Diaspora Jews, the debates of the rabbis and the scholars, the interpretations of the law, to me these are angels dancing on the head of a pin. Nor do I make a religion of Zionism or socialism or the labor movement, despite all their worthy achievements.

My Bible consists of the books of the Patriarchs and the Judges. Its pages narrate the stories of Joshua and Gideon, of Saul and David and Jonathan. Say these names: Galilee, Mount Carmel, Beersheba, the Vale of Sharon. These sites are not theoretical to me. They are not a dream longed for from afar. They comprise the hills and flats that I have plowed and planted, tramped over and slumbered upon. A field at Ramat Yohanan has soaked up the last of my brother Zorik’s blood. I left my own eye in the dirt across the border with Lebanon. How many thousands have given the same and more?

The treads of a half-track rend a slope that has no name and is known to no one: Up comes an arrowhead three thousand years old. Dig again. Into the sunlight emerges a shard from the era of Joshua, the handle of a vessel from which a soldier of Israel once drank. Who was that man? He was myself.

I am that man.

and you know what? I felt that deep down. I have been immersed in other cultures... some where I wore a uniform, some where I cheered for a school or a team... but still, I see others who are "all-in" and I never quite felt that way. I am a fan of the steelers, but would I dress up or decorate everything I own in steelers stuff? Hell no. I might only watch half the games or less a year! Same with the carolina panthers! I don't even know all the players on the UCLA football team, and yet I see all of the games and I do consider myself a Bruin deep down.

But it calls back to the point ... what is my relationship to my culture? My biggest connections to it is being hated for being a Jew by so many, and not being Jewish enough by others. Like Dayan I acknowledge the worthy achievements, especially in regards to what Judaism has to offer and teach about how to be a good human being, and to do things because they're right, not out of fear of going to hell. But I am also the product of multi-generational trauma... my paternal side's traumatic events in Europe, as well as what they experienced living in the deep south as Jews in a small town in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. My maternal sides issues with racism, abandonment, and issues from the great depression. I grew up isolated, but knowing of these events to them, the way it shaped them, the way it made them act and interact, and at the same time, dealing with my own experiences of antisemitism and exclusion.

I do not know if this can be changed, or if I want it to. I do not ever see myself keeping the shabbos, or becoming a super-jew... but at my age, I have to look back and acknowledge it all.

[ultraheydudemestuff]

Westlake Hotel Condominium and Villas

19000 Lake Rd.

Rocky River, OH       

The Westlake Hotel, built in 1925 and dubbed the "pink palace" by locals, was one of the first luxury suburban hotels in the nation. Built of brick and stucco, with a steel frame and reinforced concrete, the Westlake Hotel is one of several residential Hotels built in the Cleveland area in the 1920s.  Located at Detroit Ave. and Wooster Road near the mouth of the Rocky River, the Hotel typifies the Rocky River, Ohio, suburb more than any other single landmark.  The Westlake was not the first building on the site. Since 1816, there has been an inn, tavern, or hotel where the Westlake building is today. The first of these was Wright’s tavern, known far and wide for its unrivaled view of the Lake and as the principal tavern in the area. Wright’s tavern was the site of many township meetings back when Rocky River and Lakewood were part of Riockport Township. When Rufus Wright built the Tavern, there was no bridge over the lower Rocky River; the Tavern could only be accessed from the east by a river ferry or ford. Wright’s Tavern, besides serving as a local meeting place, also filled the role of inn, stagecoach stop, and U.S. post office.

     In 1853, Jacob Silverthorne purchased Wright’s Tavern, renamed it the Silverthorne Inn (sometimes spelled Silverthorn with no “e”), and moved his family from Bratenahl to Rocky River to run it. The Silverthorne soon became known for its delicious chicken dinners. For 66 years, the Silverthorne Inn remained a popular social center until it was torn down to make way for the Westlake Hotel. Advertised as “Greater Cleveland’s Pre-eminent Apartment Hotel,” the Westlake Hotel features Spanish Renaissance architecture.  In 1925, Rocky River was still countrified. Some referred to the city as Cleveland’s “vegetable garden,” but guests at the Westlake were treated with luxury. They could have the valet press and launder their clothes, have their car washed in the adjacent garage, and get a haircut in the barber or beauty salon downstairs. There was a playground in the back, next to the tennis courts. Stables were next door, and patrons were able to use the hotel’s boat dock. In addition, a miniature golf course and terrace tea service provided extra entertainment. The ballroom with its grand staircase was the scene of many weddings and cotillions, and guests could dine or play cards in the Marine Dining Room, the Lacquer Room, and the Commodore Room.

     The nearby railroad and Interurban lines provided easy access to downtown Cleveland. There was so much activity that the residential hotel had its own weekly ten or 12-page magazine, “From the Windows of Westlake.” The publication included timetables for the railroads, boat, bus and air lines in addition to upcoming events.  In the early days, many aviators made their home at the Westlake. The 20-foot-high Hotel Westlake sign on the roof aided planes flying into Cleveland Municipal Airport (not yet named Hopkins), and the National Air Races drew thousands to the Hotel. Early guests included Amelia Earhart, James H. Doolittle, Jr., Carl F. Egge, Roy Mitchell, Byron K. Newcome, Edwin H. Bassett, Dean C. Smith, Admiral Richard Bird, Wiley Post, and Charles Lindbergh. The Hotel also served as headquarters for chapters of the leading women's flying clubs - the Ninety-Nines and Betsy Ross Aviators. 

     On January 25, 1962, a 6:00 a.m. kitchen grease fire made its way to the roof of the Hotel and caused $500,000 in damage, including destroying the Hotel Westlake sign on the roof. Extensive fire and water damage throughout the building caused 175 guests – 160 permanent - to find quarters elsewhere. Fortunately, no one was injured; the Silverthorne Bar reopened the next day.   In November 1962, Union Financial Corporation and Westlake Investment Corp. purchased the Hotel for $1 million and converted it into an apartment building.   In the 1970s, the building slipped into seediness. Even the exterior was a dingy pale gray. One columnist wrote, "It was growing into an old folks home. People lived in tiny rooms for 40 years and longer, and when they died, their bodies were not discovered for weeks." Another referred to it as “looking like a Midwest matron in a New York singles bar.”  Rising like a phoenix from a succession of owners, the disastrous 1962 fire, and various attempts to turn it into public housing, the Westlake was revived in 1983 when Rocky River developer Scott Maurer bought the building. Maurer turned the building into a 98-unit condominium complex including 12 penthouses, spending $13 million to renovate it and add an 85-slip marina on the river below. He later built The Villas, a 17-unit condominium complex on the water's edge. On October 20, 1983, the building was placed on the National Register of Historic Places, making it possible for buyers to take advantage of Federal tax credits in buying the condominium units.  Today the 115 condominium units of the Westlake Condominium and Villas are one of Cleveland's most prestigious and historic waterfront buildings.

[ramshornrestaurantram]

Ram’s Horn Restaurant | The Heart of Our Business - Ram's Horn Restaurant Story

In the dynamic domain of franchising, family-run businesses like Ram’s Horn Restaurant Fraser stand as proud pillars of community spirit, entrepreneurial determination, and unwavering commitment to quality. Their success story serves as a testament to the resilience and adaptability of such enterprises. While navigating the challenges of a competitive market, they have firmly held on to their core values, effectively blending traditional business principles with innovative strategies to meet the evolving needs of their customers. As we move forward, these tales of endurance and success underscore the enduring influence of family values in shaping the business fabric of our society.

This is the story of a family that has invested not just their capital but their hearts and souls into their franchise. This franchise, a cornerstone in their community, has become more than just a business—it is an extension of their family, a testament to their unyielding spirit, and a testament to the power of family values in the world of business.

The journey began more than a decade ago when the family decided to embark on a business venture. They opted for the franchise model because of the assurance it provides and the established brand recognition it offers. Their chosen franchise had a significant presence in the market, and they believed it was the perfect opportunity to bring their dreams to life.

The genesis of the restaurant is a story steeped in passion and perseverance. The Kasapis brothers—Eugene, Constantinos (Gus), and Steve—with their roots firmly planted in the restaurant business, took a leap of faith in 1967. They opened their first restaurant in Detroit's Cadillac Square, driven by a robust desire to foster a dining space that resonated with their commitment to quality food and exceptional service. This marked a significant milestone, formulating the blueprint for what would eventually become a beloved fixture in Metro Detroit's dining scene known as Ram’s Horn Restaurant.

Over the years, their franchise became more than just a place to shop; it became a hub of community life. They hosted events, sponsored local sports teams, and actively participated in neighborhood initiatives. The family saw their franchise not just as a place to make a profit but as a way to give back to the people who had embraced them as a part of their community.

The family's unwavering dedication to their franchise didn't go unnoticed. Their commitment to providing top-notch customer service and quality products earned them a loyal customer base. People came not only for the products but also for the friendly faces and warm atmosphere they found within the store. The franchise became a gathering place, where people would come to chat, catch up, and, most importantly, feel like they were a part of something more significant than just a retail outlet.

Today, the legacy of the Kasapis brothers is carried forward by the current owner, Lee Drouillard. Lee, who owns the Ram’s Horn Restaurant Fraser franchise in Fraser, Michigan, has embraced the founding principles of quality and service that were established over five decades ago. He has worked diligently to ensure that the restaurant continues to serve the community with high-quality food and exceptional service, living up to the restaurant’s reputation. Under Lee's stewardship, the brand has not only maintained its vibrant presence in the dynamic restaurant industry of Metro Detroit but has also continued to thrive, adding to the rich tapestry of family-run businesses that lie at the heart of America's entrepreneurial spirit.

One of the most remarkable aspects of this family's franchise journey is the way they managed to keep their core values intact. In a world where profit often takes precedence, they maintained a strong sense of ethics and community commitment. They upheld their responsibility not just to their business but to the people they served. Their dedication to ethical business practices and their desire to create a positive impact on their community were qualities that endeared them to both customers and employees.

One of the hallmarks of Ram’s Horn Restaurant's enduring success lies in its exceptional hospitality. The restaurant's commitment to creating a warm, welcoming atmosphere is rooted in a deep-seated belief that every customer should feel like part of the family. This dedication to hospitality is not just about friendly service; it's about creating a space where patrons feel valued and comfortable, contributing to the overall dining experience. Combining quality food with a genuine spirit of hospitality, Ram's Horn has successfully carved out a niche in the competitive restaurant industry, becoming a cherished part of the local community.

Today, the family franchise continues to thrive. It stands as a testament to the enduring power of family, community, and the unwavering commitment to the principles that have guided them from the very beginning. It's more than just a place to shop; it's a symbol of the American dream, the embodiment of hard work, and the heart of a family-driven franchise.

In an industry often dominated by large corporations and faceless entities, this family's franchise story reminds us of the human touch, the personal connection, and the enduring spirit that can make a business not just survive but thrive. It's a story that resonates with the values of community, integrity, and resilience, serving as an inspiration for all those who believe that the heart of our business lies not just in profit margins but in the people who make it possible.

As we reflect on the journey of this place, it becomes evident that this story is about more than just a successful franchise. It's a tale of a family’s resilience, their unwavering commitment to quality, and their deep connection to their community. From the Kasapis brothers' first venture in 1967 to Lee Drouillard's steadfast stewardship today, the heart of Ram’s Horn Restaurant has always been its people—both the family who nurtures it and the community that supports it. This enduring legacy serves as a shining example of the impact that family-run businesses can have in shaping our communities and driving the spirit of entrepreneurship. As we look towards the future, let us celebrate such enterprises that enrich our societies and remind us that success is a journey, not a destination.

[checkthreetimes]

𝗕𝗼𝗹𝗱𝘆 𝗝𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 — 𝗖𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗔 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗰𝘆 𝗜𝗻 𝗛𝗶𝗽 𝗛𝗼𝗽

Boldy James, a rapper whose name resonates with authenticity and creativity, has emerged as a distinguished figure in the hip-hop landscape. With his distinct lyrical style and captivating storytelling, he has garnered a dedicated following and left an indelible mark on the genre.

His journey into the realm of hip-hop traces back to 2009, when the rhythm of the streets and the pulsating beats of the city became the backdrop of his life. Growing up in Detroit, Michigan, his exposure to the vibrant local hip-hop scene ignited a passion that would shape his trajectory. An encounter with his cousin Chuck Inglish, a member of The Cool Kids at a neighborhood event marked a pivotal moment, propelling him into the world of music.

James's artistic DNA is derived from a rich abundance of influences. He has drawn inspiration from the poetic narratives of Nas, the raw authenticity of Scarface, and the intricate wordplay of Eminem. This mosaic of influences culminates in his signature sound: a harmonious blend of gritty beats and vivid lyricism.

His magnetic presence and undeniable talent have led him to establish connections with an array of influential figures in the music industry. Collaborations with renowned artists like The Alchemist, Freddie Gibbs, Curren$y, and Westside Gunn have not only enriched his artistry but also solidified his place within the broader hip-hop community. These connections reflect his ability to bridge gaps and cultivate diverse musical experiences.

Boldy James's collaborative ventures have yielded sonic masterpieces that defy categorization. From his poignant collaborations with Sterling Toles on the jazzy Manger on McNichols to the unexpected yet harmonious pairing with Jay Versace on The Versace Tape, his willingness to explore uncharted territories has added layers of complexity to his work, resonating with fans from all corners of the hip-hop spectrum.

In the labyrinth of his verses lies a window into Boldy James's soul. His music serves as an unfiltered reflection of his experiences, his triumphs, and his tribulations. The verses ripple with emotion, touching on themes of family, survival, addiction, and redemption. In this self-revelation, he not only captivates listeners but also forges a genuine connection with them.

Boldy's journey through the landscape of hip-hop is a testament to his resilience, originality, and unwavering dedication to his craft. From humble beginnings to becoming a recognized name in the industry, his ability to amalgamate diverse influences, foster connections, and bare his soul through his music has solidified his legacy as an artist who defies convention. As Boldy James continues to evolve, his impact on hip-hop remains a source of inspiration for both emerging artists and established aficionados.

[thebuckblogimo]

"He had a fascinating approach to life."

July 6, 2023

My earliest image of Billy Martz is of him "walking the bars"--perhaps three feet above the pavement--on the playground at St. Al's when we were children. Nobody did it better. His sense of balance was extraordinary--like that of one of The Flying Wallendas. During our high school years, Bill and I were teammates on a successful four-man shuttle hurdles relay team. Whereas I attacked each barrier on the track, Bill glided over them. Effortlessly. Later in life, I recall my admiration for him because, despite an undeniable talent for drafting--and most others advising him differently--he eschewed the corporate world for work "out there," or "up there," laying fire brick, often several stories above the ground. Recently, when I began texting the pals about his death, one of them replied, "He had a fascinating approach to life." Which is certainly true, but can be interpreted in several ways. I took it as admiration for Bill's "live-and-let-live" approach to life. Before he died, Z (his nickname) asked me to write his obituary. I hope he would think that I did him proud:

William “Bill” Martz of Brighton, Michigan, died of lung cancer on June 14, 2023. He was 76.

Born on August 16, 1946, to Alphonse and Harriet (Piotrowski) Martz, young “Billy” was Spider-Man before there was Spider-Man. As a child he had an uncanny ability to climb boxcars, towers and walls, frequently scaling the side of the Frigidaire warehouse near his home to retrieve errantly hit balls onto the building’s roof for kids who played pickup baseball on the surrounding property.

Bill grew up in a working-class neighborhood with many large, tightly knit families, anchored by the Catholic parish of St. Alphonsus which encompassed a large part of East Dearborn and a small part of northwest Detroit where he lived. Taught by Dominican nuns, he attended both the parish grade school and high school, graduating in 1964. Although he played football for the Arrows, “number 69” was best known for his achievements in track and field and became one of the top high school hurdlers in the Detroit Catholic School League.

Nicknamed “Z” by his teammates, Bill was most proud of being part of the shuttle hurdles relay teams that swept both the high and low hurdles events in blue ribbon performances at the annual Orchard Lake Relays, the premier track and field event of that era for Catholic School League track athletes.

In the classroom, Bill, like his two older brothers, excelled at drafting. It was because of that skill, with his precision and attention to detail, that the U.S. Army stationed him in Germany to be a cartographer rather than Vietnam after he was drafted into the service during the late ‘60s at the height of the war in Southeast Asia.

Upon his return home, Bill worked at Aero Detroit, Dollar Design, Pioneer Engineering and XLO Corporation drawing mechanical parts. However, being hunkered down behind a desk was never his thing. So with the same agility he relied on to climb walls as a kid, Bill went to work laying fire brick for sewage treatment plants, blast furnaces, coke ovens and other facilities up to six stories high. His work took him to a variety of locales, from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to Texas.

During the ‘70s there were few things Bill loved more than to take a “slow cruise” in his black custom van with a cooler full of “cold ones,” as he would say, to picnic at Highland Recreation, Belle Isle or the All-Star Revue at Camp Dearborn. His trademark look in those years included his long, dark, braided hair; headband; vest; jeans; and knee-high laced boots.  

The turning point in Bill’s life came when he met Pamela Borrusch with her passions for softball, finance and art. Married for 38 years, they established the lakefront home of their dreams in Brighton where Bill loved to landscape the grounds and spend time poring over his collection of classic photos; vintage copies of the Detroit News and Detroit Free Press, containing stories about historic sporting events; and his cherished collection of old coins. He also enjoyed sharing his knowledge of “how to do stuff”—everything from vegetable gardening to fixing cars.

In retirement Bill and Pam traveled regularly to warm weather destinations each winter, including to their condominium in Port Charlotte, Florida, until cancer, a stroke and being legally blind ultimately caught up with the former track star during the final years of his life.

Bill was preceded in death by his brother Jim. He is survived by his wife, Pam; brother Tom (Peggy); sister Vickie Truax; daughter Jessica; and granddaughter Harmony. A Celebration of Bill’s Life is being planned for later this summer.

[highway80stories]

Listen/purchase: Mike Was a Soldier by Highway 80 Stories

Michael James “Sarge” Broussard (1948-2014) was born and raised in Vivian, Louisiana. He served in Vietnam (1966-1967) in a transport unit, keeping the vehicles running in the jungle, but on occasion, as necessary, he would go out on patrol. D.W. Washington was from Detroit, African-American, and he and Mike became friends. If not for D.W., Mike most likely would have died over there, as had his brother Luke (see songs, “Vivian, Louisiana” and “Shreveport, 1963“). But they both made it back, and Mike returned to Vivian where he owned and operated a filling station and repair shop (see song, “Sarge“). D.W. joined him and worked there with him (see song, “Mike and D.W.“). Mike and his high school sweetheart, Marie, got married and had one child, a daughter Rosalie.

Mike was a soldier He’d just joined up Off to Vietnam To work on trucks Nineteen sixty-six Just turned eighteen, Doing his duty Like his brother done

Just a teenager Nineteen sixty-five Mike and Marie Said their goodbyes Made some promises Like getting married That is, if Mike made it Back alive Not like his brother No, all too often Families just have the flag That draped the coffin And some memories Of him on a bus Thumbs up, and laughin’ Just laughin’ Mike was a soldier Barely breathin’ It was D.W. got him home To Vivian After forty years They ‘re still friends Down on Main At the filling station Mike was a soldier And a husband Was a good friend To dozens They called him Sarge And said he was A pretty good guy Yeah, Mike, he sure was one Mike was a soldier He’d just joined up Off to Vietnam To work on trucks

© 2019 Frank David Leone, Jr./Highway 80 Music (ASCAP). The songs and stories on the Highway 80 Stories website are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

[temmes]

Some one asks me,what would i be and what life situation i want to find myself in five years.

Well,not much of a crazy life changing will come,to my knowledge and negative point of view.even though now we are facing world wide economic challenges,viruses,uncertainty of new technologies related conflicts. the more things change the more they stay the same,histories are the same,we are only human after all.

Back to the topic, i wanna be a STEM dork,recently I’m thinking about the field of electrical engineering/chips,or robotic/automation,i feel like with the emerging of those fast evolving AI,they are coming hot with lots of endorsers and hype,big investment pouring on the table,look at those CGs they made, words they output,it’s safe to say it will be the next singularity with all that support.

So now I assume that we got a fast worker,high yield producer/artist,super smart scientist,what it needs is a carrier,so better circuit,chips make them faster,exist in every corner,and a robotic body will maximize their value of serving us,fully benefit the mankind,and it makes more sense if we realize we are facing another global problem—aging population. That means a huge shortage of labor forces in different job sites,and a big needs of health caring experts.it clicks,louder and louder

I’m Imaging a society that doesn’t require regular folks to do a 9 to 5,another day another dollar job but got rationed of credits bi-week because with the advanced automation,mass production is too efficient for small population,that basic daily supplies are enough for all the people,without oligopoly controlled capitalism,no more tempting stuff,no sensation provocative products,no hidden plots that make you overwhelmed with dopamine.without competition,there isn’t much variety,but simple,honest goods and service.that’s what my ideal society would be like.

My fantasy of events would be,androids taking care of the whole house missions,helping kids and the elderly to live better(freeing human from daily burdens),me taking my hot 3D printed breakfast that takes 2 points of credit(just a reminder of limited resources)into a public reserved self driving vehicle headed to the art center (probably art is the last position human hold) at 11am, to go there for learning how to brush paint a massive canvass using multi robotic arms with the help of androids so no one will hurt in the scene(corporation with AI,to know them better).not to worry about if these kinds of skill set are demanding or not, so to get a Job to feed myself and my family.

maybe human will be satisfied with their needs and greediness after massive production improvement and switch to minimalism. That’s probably the only way we can get out off the hustle and bustle,dopamine rampant swamp.

Im not going to talk about all the related contentions,the impact of the androids and automation toward the society,and I realized I am far from my topic.

Not much can get me excited because I’ve been numb long ago I’ve overdosed with dopamine.but I got goose bumps every time I think that,one day I can live in a cyberpunk world(not the game,but if it’s like a game it’d probably be like Detroit became human lol),embrace it’s both sides.oh man,I wish I could go back to school without the fear of failure and insecurity.

I wish in five years,I can graduate and get the entry ticket,join a tech giant and work at the AI engineering related department,androids,automation,smart vehicle, 3D printing appliances,whatever,as long as I can work in the front line and do some constructions,to witness the ups and downs of this filed,take the responsibilities,solving problems by all means.