Detroit, a-Dare? TWIN CITIES? - Tponetom

When I am in a Depressed, Debilitating, and Deteriorating mood, I seek refuge in reading my "Ireland Days Diary." [[I also resort to making feeble ‘alliterations’ like the big "D.")
There are 34 pages in my diary and 80,568 characters, 18,118 words, 1322 sentences, 373 paragraphs, and an average of 14 words per sentence. It covers 22 days of paradise.
Obviously I cannot post such a document to this forum site because of the limitation of characters [[10,000) to a single post. I consider that limit to be a generous and very wise and well-advised restriction. Especially with people like me.
At best, I can only make an extremely tenuous connection to Detroit with an excerpt from said diary. It follows;
1997.
"Day 2 was actually an extension of Day 1, because of the time difference. We left the morning of Sept. 9, and we arrived at Shannon on Sept.10, and it was 12 noon. Our BB, in the village of Adare, was just two blocks from Main Street. Our enthusiasm, along with a sense of relief, gave us the strength to make a quick tour of the town on foot. Adare has been rightly described as THE quintessential Irish town. It was delightful. I will make a somewhat unusual description of Adare. As we walked along Main street an atavistic image struck me almost immediately. This was Detroit and America in the 1930’s! There were all the small stores of our youth. The corner grocery store, the candy and patent medicine shop, the chemist [[read drug) shop, the small clothing shops, and the proprietor sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store. By far the most conspicuous sights were the local citizens. There was absolutely no way to confuse them with the tourists. The tourists came in all shapes and sizes and dress. The Irish were all uniformly attired and coiffured. I don’t mean the clothes were identical but the style was consistently simplistic. Many of the men wore a tie and shirt with either a sweater or jacket and the haircut was not too far from soup bowl chic. The women’s hair was cut short and hung straight. Even now I can’t recall seeing any lady on the street with what could be called an extravagant hairdo. Their dress can only be described as overtly proper."
End of excerpt.

Adare is a small village with a population of around 2500. Why did I compare it to Detroit? Because the ambience or mood of that Main Street stage, mimicked the memories that I have always carried around in my head. And, oh yes, the cigarette smoking was extremely reminiscent.


Invaded, bruised and brutalized, but never completely beaten, Ireland survived. The horrors of the past are chronicled in the ubiquitous museums that saturate Ireland.

Irish music offers the complete scale, like 88 keys, from the mournful melodies of melancholy to the titillating high notes of survival.
Detroit has its own museums that will hopefully survive and inspire future generations to regenerate the City. The history of Ireland could well be a harbinger for a future Detroit.
What goes around,,,,