The Transient And The Absolute
Today I turned 37. This sounds ridiculous but instead of heading straight home to celebrate with my family, I stopped by a local restaurant for a quick dinner. Stepping out of my car I was immediately greeted by the brisk cold air of a January evening in Michigan. The shivering however was soon to dissipate as I opened up the door to the chatter of hungry patrons. Needless to say, the place was packed, so the host asked if I would mind sitting in the bar area. “Not at all,” I said and off I went to maneuver my way through the crowd to find a dining spot.
The bar had these long tables where strangers were shoulder to shoulder next to strangers. There was a corner seat so I grabbed it after asking those dining if the seat was taken. “Not at all!” Said a friendly older gentleman sitting next to his wife.
“Northville” I thought to myself.
Since moving home, the sensors in my head seem to auto classify my neighbors. This after years on the Jersey shore where it took me almost half a decade to figure out where Belmar was. The familiarity of metropolitan Detroit was a welcome relief. Like the stress of anonymity was instantly lifted off my shoulders so I could be me again.
Three minutes into receiving a menu the six of us, plus our waiter were all on a first name basis. In a strange twist of six degrees of employment separation, it was soon discovered that the friendly couple, from Northville - yes I called it, were Ford retirees. The two gentlemen who were seated with us were suppliers working with Ford, and our waiter’s grandfather was a Ford retiree who bought his grandson a Focus upon his graduation from college.
Conversation, while fluid and friendly, revolved around the one industry that brought us together tonight - cars. It’s hard to quantify how many times I’d been in a room full of strangers looking for the emergency exit. We never really fit in out in NJ, but that was probably because we never tried. Here though? I was home. I was amongst people who had the same passions as I do who carried the same accent and the same friendly mannerisms. I could talk about the Auto Show, show off pictures from our Ford Flickr account through my iPhone and have everyone at the table leaning in purring over the Fusion.
This was my heaven. The core of everything that made me happy and not regret a single hardship my family faced coming back to Detroit. Believe me there have been hardships. But the faces I saw tonight, the random strangers I’ll probably never see again, made a birthday dinner that could have been as lonesome and melancholy as one could imagine turn to something warm and inviting.
We left tonight shaking hands and smiles. Reminding each other to drive safely and stay warm. A year ago, I thought to myself, I would have been on a 2.5 hour commute back to Middletown, NJ in complete silence. This though, this was every reason why I came back.
Happy birthday to me and it’s good to be home.
