We received comments for Serena Maria Daniels' Aug. 12 story about the effect of Detroit's M-1 Rail on local businesses ("How lower Woodward's restaurants are coping with M-1 construction"). Reader Mark Kennedy from Detroit writes:
I sympathize greatly for the businesses disrupted by the M-1 Rail construction. But that's only the tip of the iceberg.
I live right around the corner of the I-94 bridge. You can't sleep through the pylon pounding — somewhat, if you wear earplugs and sound attenuators — but at least the sound is rhythmic and you can still study. The killer is the beepers on the construction equipment. They pierce through everything.
All those nice high-end apartments along the Corridor? People tired of the noise in Midtown are already moving up here. The Ilitch construction? And now this summer the I-94 expansion project has been announced to be on.
The Lodge/I-94 interchange — to be removed and replaced. Likewise the I-75/I-94 interchange. And 67 bridges along the seven-mile route. The beepers more than anything else will drive people out.
If you work days, you'll survive it, so long as the construction isn't done at night when there's less traffic. But if you work nights, or at home, or you're a serious student, or a retiree?
I've listened to those beepers for twenty years of construction down here. They're killers. They'll destroy the still eager migration to the Corridor. The lawsuit climate that has foisted them on us needs to be changed. The stress they cause, the impact on your health, which is denied because it can't be empirically separated out from other factors, nonetheless far outweighs any gains supposedly gotten from avoiding backup accidents.
Why do workers driving those easy-to-listen-to lawnmowers wear earplugs and sound attenuators, while other workers are expected to put up with those beep beep beeps all day long? Why are there no backup beepers on the far more dangerous decks of USN aircraft carriers? As a worker, I'd be insulted by SMARM SAFETY.
Dad rock diss
We got some criticism for music editor Mike McGonigal's May 29 blog post about the classic rock acts booked for the Rockin' on the Riverfront concert series ("GM Rockin' on the Riverfront adds encore show featuring Eddie Money"). Reader Barbara Harris wrote:
Maybe my sense of humor is failing me, but your tone toward the people who are fans of these "sorry mish-mash of yesteryear hitmakers" and "barely-were-beens" is pretty insulting. You're old enough to have listened to and liked these bands. Dude, you are almost 50! I think you ARE one of the Dads you're making fun of.
Today's music can't hold a "Candle In The Wind" to any of those "Old Time Rock and Roll" songs. Come on, you know it. You heard it and you hummed along with it back in the day. Quit bashing music (and its followers) just because it's not new. All music gets old — but not "sorry."
Maybe I'll see you tonight down on the river. I'll be the 57-year-old dancing with my girlfriends, having a great time with great music that will be (gasp!) out-of-date.
Michael Jackman echoed the sentiments of a recent Detroit Free Press article by architecture critic and historian John Gallagher in an Aug. 21 blog post criticizing the aesthetics of the new windows being installed in Michigan Central Station ("The problem with Michigan Central Station's new windows"). It engendered some lively comments.
Facebook user Dave Martin wrote:
The real question is: what will we find to gripe about next? I get it: historical preservation of an iconic landmark counts, and look — another reason to hate [Moroun]! But still, I for one am happy to see some progress on a major eyesore. Cities that care need these discussions, but at the end of the day, I feel this is small potatoes. Maybe I'm wrong.
Reader Tom Nardone wrote:
I remember what Thumper's Mom from the movie Bambi said: "If you can't say something nice about something, don't say anything at all."
Reader "Running Welder" wrote:
I have to admit that the windows would look better without the strips because they do look like windows you would find in a four-bedroom rancher in Livonia.