It has everything I need: beaches, a couple parks, a Barnes and Noble, and one decent restaurant where food poisoning isn't on the menu. Public transit takes me where I need to go, at half of what it costs everywhere else. No charity would help me get a ride to my last living family member's funeral, but since that's already happened, it can't happen again.
Winter sucks, but it sucks in hipster-friendly places like Boston and Philadelphia, and Minneapolis. (Whoo boy, does it ever suck in Minneapolis.) When warm weather does arrive, it's great. There's a hundred and one things to do, and see, outdoors. Our Middle Eastern friends from the Emirate of Detroit have discovered our Negro-free, Jew-free, parks and beaches. If you've never seen women in burqas grilling food, and swimming, and you aren't a Negro, or a Jew, come visit us some Sunday.
In my neighborhood, I can go shopping and leave the front door unlocked, and know that, when I come home, everything will be where I left it. This miracle of modern urban life may have its origins in our hood's demographic base, which is 99.99 percent White. (We admittedly aren't very diverse. The Arab chicks who in the summer dress like it's winter -- head to foot in black -- and then go into the lake to cool off, come from out of town. We do have a couple Lesbians, who pile junk in front of their house and French kiss in public, but that's something we accept as a by-product of tolerance and cultural vibrancy.)
Port Huron could in fact move up from Isn't That Bad to Pretty Darn Good if not for one thing: the disproportionate number of fuckheads who live here.
Every town has its lowlifes, snitches, lying duplicitous middle-aged women, failed human beings of every stripe, assholes who don't know they're assholes because no one ever told them, and dirtbags you'd cross the street to avoid. Fuckheads. Our home town has more than its share. An informal survey conducted by Your Bloggers revealed that St. Clair County has more fuckheads per capita than any of Michigan's 83 counties. We know. In the 21 years we've lived here, we've met each and every one of them.
Fuckheads by nature gather in places the ordinary person who just wants to get through the day drama free can't avoid. The bank, post office, courthouse, the city building on Fort Street, on the bus. In the grocery store. They also gather in places to be avoided unless the situation forces it: churches, charities, the human "services" building on Grand River Avenue; actually, in the offices of any operation whose stated purpose is to help people. In other words, they're everywhere.
We've already introduced you to a sample of the finest Grade A fuckheads our home town has to offer. Our stated purpose is to, in the pages of this blog, introduce more, so You The Tourist will know who to watch out for when you come visiting this summer, and You The Native can confirm what you already know.
It's sad, really. Peel away the outer layers of crud, and America's 1,109th best small city rates Not That Bad. Get rid of the fuckheads somehow -- wave a magic wand and send them someplace rated Really Awful, like Flint where a few more fuckheads added to the mix won't make any difference -- and it would definitely crack the top 100.
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