A night in downtown Flint: dinner at Blackstone's. Having dinner with a candidate for a post at UMF, I found myself talking about Flint like a real oldtimer. Driving home, my brief mile in the dark, I thought, "I belong in this place. It's my home." And it didn't feel so awful. Being a grownup in a place, being fond of its architectures and quirks, its ups and downs, isn't so bad.