Your Wilbo is always monitoring traffic for upstarts and start ups
within a day's drive of West Michigan. This afternoon, Wilbo finds
himself south of Flint, Michigan in the Gateway Center. He is hungry
and he's looking for lunch. He's also been alerted by his deep
Michigan network of a new grocery store in downtown Flint, Michigan.
Anybody can bring you Pure Michigan. Stick with Wilbo and he'll bring
you Deep Michigan. The Deep Michigan network knew about the rise and
fall of Red Ink Studios, which the Mott Foundation summoned from San
Francisco California around 2005. Our network knows Red Ink had not
one but two locations in downtown Flint, but Wilbo can find no trace
of them in Flint nor San Francisco anymore. Red Ink as a web page now
directs one to a tattoo shop or a graphics design firm, depending on
how you Google. Let's face it, any organization who brings art to the
street or art to the abandoned urban store front is not growing on
abundant soil. Wilbo monitors the New York Times, and he has learned
that downtown Flint has a number of inexpensive historical properties
that an avant garde has snapped up and renovated. There's even word of
a coffee house and a coffee house is always a harbinger of a community
to be manifested. For example, Starbucks set up a coffee house in
downtown Royal Oak, following Noir Leather's lead, and now two
microbreweries, a major bookstore and boutique shopping popped up.
Wandering Wilbo loves the Sunday drive test. If there's anything going
on in an urbane community, one can find access on a Sunday afternoon.
This is usually measured by the quality of the food available or the
art one can see without pleading through a window for access or
breaking and entering. It's okay. Wandering Wilbo is an
existentialist. So when he turns the door knob on a coffeehouse and
finds it locked from turning, he mutters to himself, "There's an
absence at the heart of being". Unfortunately, casinos and most bars
succeed famously at the Sunday drive test, and that's where many men
and women spend their Sunday afternoons. Alas, adjacent to absence at
the heart of being, there's a casino with an inexpensive buffet and a
man waiting to mix me a mojito. PS. Dear Google: Should I trust a spell checker that doesn't know the
correct spelling of MOJITO?
within a day's drive of West Michigan. This afternoon, Wilbo finds
himself south of Flint, Michigan in the Gateway Center. He is hungry
and he's looking for lunch. He's also been alerted by his deep
Michigan network of a new grocery store in downtown Flint, Michigan.
Anybody can bring you Pure Michigan. Stick with Wilbo and he'll bring
you Deep Michigan. The Deep Michigan network knew about the rise and
fall of Red Ink Studios, which the Mott Foundation summoned from San
Francisco California around 2005. Our network knows Red Ink had not
one but two locations in downtown Flint, but Wilbo can find no trace
of them in Flint nor San Francisco anymore. Red Ink as a web page now
directs one to a tattoo shop or a graphics design firm, depending on
how you Google. Let's face it, any organization who brings art to the
street or art to the abandoned urban store front is not growing on
abundant soil. Wilbo monitors the New York Times, and he has learned
that downtown Flint has a number of inexpensive historical properties
that an avant garde has snapped up and renovated. There's even word of
a coffee house and a coffee house is always a harbinger of a community
to be manifested. For example, Starbucks set up a coffee house in
downtown Royal Oak, following Noir Leather's lead, and now two
microbreweries, a major bookstore and boutique shopping popped up.
Wandering Wilbo loves the Sunday drive test. If there's anything going
on in an urbane community, one can find access on a Sunday afternoon.
This is usually measured by the quality of the food available or the
art one can see without pleading through a window for access or
breaking and entering. It's okay. Wandering Wilbo is an
existentialist. So when he turns the door knob on a coffeehouse and
finds it locked from turning, he mutters to himself, "There's an
absence at the heart of being". Unfortunately, casinos and most bars
succeed famously at the Sunday drive test, and that's where many men
and women spend their Sunday afternoons. Alas, adjacent to absence at
the heart of being, there's a casino with an inexpensive buffet and a
man waiting to mix me a mojito. PS. Dear Google: Should I trust a spell checker that doesn't know the
correct spelling of MOJITO?
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