hot in here

Detroit, hotter than the Tigers' season. So muggy, I miss the dry-as-Tequila summers of Tucson. Yesterday I drove home from Dearborn in my A.C.-less van, trying to miss the red lights on Greenfield and then 8-Mile and the two minutes without toasty breeze that those stops represented. Greenfield from Michigan Avenue to 96--a stretch where most everybody's got a relative or friend in Lebanon--dozens of cars with Lebanese flags flying out their windows, as sadness and grief mingle with 98-degree afternoons to create anger. As we hope for a little relief from the heat, let's hope against hope for a little bit of peace, too.