(Demonstrators outside the Cobo Convention Facility during the NAACP annual fundraisers, 01 May, 2011. Photo Socotra.)

The word came through several sources- tweets, twitters, newsbreaks, e-mail to personal devices, and it was short and sweet. The Man was dead, shot to death in a firefight in a posh mansion forty air miles from the Pakistani capital.

One of the tweets was from a pal who was camped out in front of the White House. It was a good place to be, crowds swelling, and the President made the announcement at about nine-thirty, from what we could tell.

We could not hear the Presidential remarks, since we were in a casino in Canada. Windsor, to be precise, and the skyline of poor old Detroit loomed so close that it seemed you could reach across the gray water and touch it.

It is further than you would think, both the truth about what happened, and getting back to the Homeland.

The six of us had all plopped down in the Motor City from northern Virginia at varying times through the day to attend the big conference at the Cobo Center. We checked the booth and put out the favors and literature, arranged the little prize premiums to attract interest and traffic through the display, and made nice during the icebreaking mixer to open the display floor.

The operation had already gone down by that point, but the President would not make the formal announcement until the cocktails were done, and the post-mixer plans made.

The demonstration outside Cobo had subsided by then; apparently some folks were unhappy with the NAACP and the financial books of the organization, and specifically peeved at Kid Rock, the noted Detroit performance artist.

(The Detroit NAACP gave their Great Expectations Award to Kid Rock for his advocacy of the city, drawing some criticism because the Grammy-nominated artist has used the Confederate flag during stage performances. (AP Photo/Jim Cooper, File)

The Detroit Chapter of the organization were apparently honoring The Kid, who has been nominated for a Grammy for his re-mix of the Lynyrd Skynyrd tune “Sweet Home Alabama.” Skynyrd was from Jacksonville, Florida, and often used a Confederate flag in their stage act before the band was shattered by an airplane crash in 1977.

Or something. Kid Rock has done some great things for Detroit, and goodness knows the city needs it. I was still reeling from the encounter with the city, up close and personal, and the collision between the crowd streaming into the annual fundraiser for the NAACP, the protesters, and the sleek contractors and high-tech vendors was a little hard to process.

I don’t gamble, but I do like to people watch, and when the group decided to leave the country, it seemed innocent enough. We discussed cabs to travel through the tunnel, but the doorman at the Marriott recommended a short stroll past the Maritime Sailors Cathedral and the $3.75 bus ride under the Detroit River.

So that is how we came to be at Caesar’s in Windsor, amid the flashing lights and chirping electronic sounds on the south bank of the river trying to get back close to midnight, and anxious to find out what had happened all the way around the world in the walled compound forty air miles from the Pakistani capital.

Of course, we had to get past Homeland Security, and that is a story unto itself.

Thanks to that asshole bin Laden, we now have to carry passports to travel across the world’s longest and most peaceful border, and apparently that isn’t quite good enough for the assholes in Customs and Border Protection.

But like I say, that is a different story, and thank God Osama finally paid, and that the US Navy did it.

Ding Dong, the witch is dead. Finally.

Copyright 2011 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com