Friday, June 16, 2000

Motown malaise Gas dries up as lights flicker on Series of setbacks leave us in misery

By Laura Berman / The Detroit News

Forget winter. This may be the summer of our discontent. So far, we have a rare June indeed: a time of torrential rains followed by sweltering heat, leavened with power failures, polluted beaches and gas priced like cabernet sauvignon. Woe is us. Southeastern Michigan suddenly feels plague-ridden. On The Weather Channel, our climatic and power deficiencies are broadcast nationwide. Prosperity is swell -- but so is the ability to swim in the local waters.

Misery is our due in winter; we accept it. Is it unreasonable to expect reward for our patience as the summer solstice approaches? To assume that our lust for soft breezes and clear, cool waters will at long last be satisfied?

Consider the words of poet James Russell Lowell, who understood the allure of June a century ago. "And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days."

If ever. As if. Instead, Detroiters this June were sweating in the dark, approaching traffic signals with the type of caution usually reserved for mountain roads without guard rails. Ah, June. A time to get a second mortgage to fill the Chevy Blazer's gas tank. To head for the beach and not swim. This is southeastern Michigan, the heart of a so-called pleasant peninsula. What gives?

The lights went out on Flag Day, a fitting reminder that even in America, we can be plunged into the Dark Ages on a moment's notice. The poor and elderly took the brunt of it, and at Wayne State University, fragments of human cells cultured for a national research project spoiled like milk left on the windowsill. Rob Fetzer, who is vice-chairman of the Detroit Historical District, left a meeting at 10:30 the other night, stepping into pitch darkness. "With a little fog added, I could have been Sherlock Holmes walking across the deserted moors," he sighs. The weather warmed up, and so did the beach bacteria -- a biology lesson no one wanted to learn firsthand. Then there were those gas prices, leaping like frogs.

At Mobil-On-The-Run at 13 Mile and Woodward Ave., manager Jon Safiedine is wearying of customer crabbiness. "Four out of 10 customers make a comment," he says of the steady muttering that's been rising in volume since last week. "They want to know who to blame."

When the price shot over $2 a gallon, it was like Roger Bannister breaking the four-minute barrier for a one-mile-run or Chuck Yeager breaking the sound barrier or Mark McGwire hitting 70 home runs: You knew it was possible but couldn't imagine actually witnessing it. The difference being that nobody cheered at Jon Safiedine's family's gas station. "I spent $50 in gas in the last two days," said Aaron Vermeersch, who filled up his 1984 Pontiac TransAm on Thursday. "I probably wouldn't have started my own business if I'd known I'd be paying $2.19 for gas."

If you want to get a conversation started, ask people in a gas station how they enjoy the new price structure. And consider that it doesn't hurt us much to be reminded that natural resources are finite -- and need to be guarded like treasure. It is a gift to see Detroit plunged into darkness for three days, but without any corresponding rise in violence or mayhem. Instead, we witnessed politeness on the streets. Acts of kindness from strangers. The disruptions that cause so much annoyance are also potent reminders that the world wasn't created for our convenience. That pipelines and electrical connections can rupture. That it's easier to break things than fix them. That a perfect day in June is rare, even in June.

http://www.detnews.com/2000/metro/0006/16/a01-76376.htm

-- Martin Thompson (mthom1927@aol.com), June 16, 2000