In Upstate New York, it’s usually a full-on temper tantrum.

Sure, we’re supposed to run our own race, but the head, whether intentionally or not, often turns west.

There, somewhere near the Great Lakes, lie places like Columbus (OH), Indianapolis (IN), Madison (WI), and Grand Rapids (MI).

They’re all growing.

Even worse is Fort Wayne. Fort Freakin’ Wayne, Indiana, is growing, too!

New York State, of course, likes to make excuses for itself—mother nature and bad luck are two favorites.

The Cato Institute, however, has identified the best explanation of all—ineptitude.

In case you don’t know, the Cato Institute is a libertarian think tank founded in 1977 and headquartered in Washington, DC.

One of the founders was Charles Koch—in other words, nothing in life is pure. Regardless, the gist of the institute’s philosophy boils down to limited government, free markets, and individual liberty, the ultimate goal being for locales to meet its definition of freedom.

In that regard, in 2023, the institute published its most recent Freedom in the 50 States report, focused on personal and economic freedom and resulting in an overall freedom ranking.

At number 50, a spot it has occupied since the first report in 2000, was none other than New York State.

Personal freedom is not the issue—New Yorkers can chomp on marijuana, gamble, and do whatever else it is that makes them feel free.

Economic freedom, on the other hand, is a disaster, leading to the disastrous overall score.

To paraphrase the Cato Institute’s own words:

New York’s greatest challenge is the monstrous culture Big Government has created — one marked by waste, incompetence and sclerosis.

Simply put, people can’t handle the crushing taxes and labor regulations.

The Empire State just can’t get things done anymore.

Things weren’t always rotten. In 1962, New York’s state-level tax burden was lower than the national average.

But progressive programs required major tax and spending hikes, which in turn attracted interest groups eager to get a slice of the pie.

Ideologues and concentrated interests gained enough influence in the Legislature to steer policy, creating regulatory sludge that gummed up innovation and commerce.

Manufacturers compete in a global marketplace, so when you drive up their costs, they have the choice of going out of business or moving production elsewhere.

New York’s terrible economic freedom score is going to continue to drag the state down—and harm its ability to realize its full economic potential.

And how about those other places, the ones to the west, where despite frigid air and reliable snow, humans are moving?

What are their overall freedom rankings?

Ohio: 21

Wisconsin: 13

Indiana: 10

Michigan: 7

Are you surprised?

The post How New York State Is Digging Its Own Grave appeared first on ComposeMD.

I know what it’s like to be misunderstood.

I am from the Rust Belt, after all.

But you—I get the sense that you don’t even know who you are.

It started in 1796, when you joined the Union, as in became a state.

Your eventual capital, Nashville, was even named after a Revolutionary War hero.

But then, in 1861, you pulled a South Carolina and left to join the wannabe country with the copycat flag. You were confused, as East Tennessee wanted no part of secession.

Of course, like a little sh*t, you came crawling back.

And ever since then, say 1865, you’ve stayed confused as hell.

You and Nathan Bedford Forrest gave us the Ku Klux Klan.

You also gave us some of the best HBCUs the country has known.

Like most US states, you treated women like second-class citizens.

By being the 36th state to ratify the 19th Amendment, you also gave women the right to vote.

You prosecuted John Scopes for teaching evolution.

Then you did God’s work at Oak Ridge by helping make the first atomic bomb.

You’ve provided a safe haven for climate skeptics.

You’re also a leader in nuclear and hydroelectric power.

You became the home of the lefty Al Gore, whose wife, Tipper, tried to stifle artists and their lyrics.

You’re also the home of the right-wing nut job Marsha Blackburn, who has made a career of supporting artists.

It’s safe to say you’re into the Bible—I have firsthand knowledge.

You’ve also opened your arms to the largest Kurdish community in North America—it prefers the Quran.

Nashville has gone from a shade of blue to really damn blue.

It presides over a state that has gone from a battleground to really damn red.

You have no state income tax.

But you’re obsessed with consumption tax.

You love your hot chicken.

And you apparently like chicken vindaloo as well.

But despite it all, Tennessee, you are still a state that preserves the past.

Just ask your transplants who work at Oracle and Amazon.

Sincerely,

Khan Trae Dick Shin

The post Dear Tennessee: Who Are You Anyway? appeared first on ComposeMD.

I learned this the hard way, as I involuntarily lost my summer to Marvel.

I suppose the story should begin in May, when the son returned from college after negotiating his first year.

Things only intensified the next month, when the daughter joined the ranks of the summer vacationers.

The lunches—that I could handle.

The rides—I could even deal with that.

What did me in, however, was the loss of cultural control.

There was an era, I’m assuming, when senior generations could force feed the junior ones, ensuring the persistence of misogyny, racism, and other societal ills that old people (and scary young ones) enjoy promoting.

But the tables have turned, and now I’m apparently the one being force fed.

It began with mentions of an arachnid, somehow crossed with homo sapiens.

Then came references to a patriotic military hero, another dude dressed in metal, and some green guy.

Even I had to Marvel—at the comics, that is.

Because one simple film adaptation—Spider-Man: Brand New Day—had opened the flood gates, and over the next two weeks, I found myself submerged in additional films, all courtesy the progeny.

With no choice but to manufacture inspiration, I harnessed my own superpower, the one that has birthed this blog, skimmed occasionally by influential people like the wife and mother.

That superpower, of course, is finding the Rochester connection, which in the age of AI involves a couple clicks and a couple milliseconds.

Let’s rewind to 1939, when Marvel Comics began under the name Timely Publications.

Two years later, Joe Simon and Jack Kirby created Captain America. Simon, of course, was a Rochester (NY) native.

Fast forward to 1962, the year of Spider-Man’s first comic book appearance. A certain Iron Man showed up in the same year.

In 1983, Robert Downey Jr. made his professional stage acting debut at Geva Theatre Center—in Rochester. A quarter century later, he became Iron Man.

Five years after that, in 2013, scenes from The Amazing Spider-Man 2 were filmed in Rochester. If you watch carefully, you’ll recognize Main Street masquerading as New York City.

Finally, we get to the Avengers, whose Compound is somewhere in Upstate New York (not Rochester, but who’s counting at this point?).

Satisfied, I realized that thanks to my fellow Rochesterians, the youngsters were still learning a thing or two from their predecessors.

But deep down, I still hoped the next Rochester connection would happen at school.

The post There’s Always a Rochester Connection! appeared first on ComposeMD.

But listen closely enough, and it’s there, simmering, always.

You’ve heard the terms.

Has-been.

Passé.

Decline.

But could it be that this truth is actually a Trump truth, aka a lie?

Let’s scroll through some numbers, starting with eight, as in the number of US states that border the Great Lakes.

For the sake of argument, we’ll agree that the long downward slide, otherwise known as the biggest lie about the Great Lakes, began in 1950.

Since that time, in alphabetical order, the eight Great Lakes states have added the following:

Illinois: 4.1 million

Indiana: 2.8 million

Michigan: 3.7 million

Minnesota: 2.8 million

New York: 5.4 million

Ohio: 3.8 million

Pennsylvania: 2.5 million

Wisconsin: 2.4 million

Those millions refer to human beings, totaling 27.5 million and leaving five of the states in the top 10 by population and all eight in the top 22.

But you’re a private equity bro—all you care about is money.

Remember, I’m just an artist turned blogger, but I believe that nominal GDP can provide some insight in this regard.

Illinois: 5

Indiana: 19

Michigan: 14

Minnesota: 20

New York: 3

Ohio: 7

Pennsylvania: 6

Wisconsin: 21

Those numbers, from 2025, reflect each state’s ranking on a list of US states by nominal GDP.

In other words, if this is what decline looks like, where does that leave the other states?

The post The Biggest Lie About the Great Lakes appeared first on ComposeMD.

The wisp of water that connects Lake St. Clair to Lake Erie and separates Detroit, Michigan, from Windsor, Ontario, has been an incubator of human emotion.

Hope and elation gave way to desperation and despair, which in turn birthed nostalgia and acceptance.

But these days, along that river, if you listen closely enough, you just might hear whispers of optimism again.

It starts with the subtle, like when a graph of population estimates has a positive slope.

Then comes the more obvious, like new housing.

Finally comes the blatant—say a $4.7-billion, 1.5-mile, cable-stayed bridge over the Detroit River, a much-needed complement to the almost-100-year-old Ambassador Bridge and the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel.

The new structure, officially opened on July 27, 2026, is called the Gordie Howe International Bridge, a shout out to the legendary Canadian hockey player who spent most of his career playing for the Detroit Red Wings.

In true collaborative fashion—the type that would be expected among fast friends—ownership is shared by the Canadian government and the state of Michigan.

Fully funded by the Canadians, the plan has been for them to recoup the costs through toll revenue. Once that goal is met, toll revenues will thereafter be split between Canada and Michigan.

Six lanes of traffic, a dedicated multi-use path for pedestrians and cyclists, a marker of friendship, and a symbol of economic vitality—for a Rust Belt obsessive, it’s the stuff dreams are made of.

And then there’s Donald Trump.

The man who is unable to find meaning in life in the absence of conflict opted to manufacture some.

Trump’s buddy and donor, Matthew Moroun, happens to own the Ambassador Bridge and was opposed to the construction of a competitor.

In early 2026, shortly after Moroun donated $1 million to a Trump-aligned PAC, the President threatened to block the opening of the bridge.

And then, he started negotiating, aka extorting.

Claiming the aforementioned deal was somehow unfair, Trump coerced the Canadians into a parallel deal, one that gives an economic development fund controlled by the US government half the bridge’s net revenue for the first 15 years. (Whether Moroun will benefit from this fund is purely speculative.)

Just for kicks, a week before the bridge was to open, Trump announced 50% tariffs on a wide range of Canadian goods. In response, the Canadians disinvited Americans from a ribbon-cutting ceremony.

Of course, the argument could be made that this is the dream, the kind where The Godfather is more than mere art.

Let’s just hope that with tolls involved, no one goes the way of Sonny Corleone.

The post How the Detroit River Answered/Shattered My Dreams appeared first on ComposeMD.

On July 26, 2026, relentless Cyber-wandering landed me on a headline: “Colorado River reservoirs hit record lows as Trump administration threatens major cuts.”

I feigned shock—could rapid population growth in a desert have consequences?

Seven states—Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, New Mexico, Nevada, California, and Arizona—depend on the 1,450-mile-long river and its famed reservoirs (Lake Powell and Lake Mead) to quench their thirst.

One—Arizona—deserves special attention.

Located at the end of the line before the river dives into Mexico and empties into the Gulf of California, the state has concocted the following formula:

Keep taxes low.

This will ensure low per-pupil spending, low teacher salaries, and dated facilities.

The result will be the worst public school system in the country.

Allow high-tax states like New York—home to the best public school system in the country—to educate the next generation.

Meanwhile, use the low taxes to steal businesses from other states.

Then, go ahead and steal the young residents that other states paid to educate in order to fill those jobs.

While you’re at it, take some retirees as well so they can spend their life savings in your state as opposed to the ones where they made a living.

All of the above will equal Phoenix, the tenth-largest metro area in the country, home to 500% population growth over the past 50 years and 5.2 million residents—in a desert.

To make the place look nice, build a ton of golf courses and use the Colorado River to water them.

The last step, of course, is to complain that there’s not enough water.

As a final option, consider asking the states from which you stole businesses and residents if you can use their water.*

—

*The Great Lakes Compact, signed into law by President George W. Bush in 2008, is an agreement between the eight Great Lakes states (Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Minnesota, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin), coordinated with two Canadian provinces (Ontario and Quebec), that with very rare exceptions bans the diversion of Great Lakes water outside its natural basin. And, on that note, I’ll have another glass.

The post Why the Colorado River Can Kiss My… appeared first on ComposeMD.

The following thread has been abridged for the sake of brevity.*

Me: Congrats, LeBron, on having chosen Syracuse.

LeBron: Yeah, it’s always great to come back to the Rust Belt.

Me: Rumors were swirling about you going to Golden State, Cleveland, Miami, and Syracuse. What made you finally choose the Salt City?

LeBron: Honestly, man, it came down to ComposeMD and The Essence of Syracuse, New York.

Me: What specifically in that book stood out?

LeBron: I mean, 127 inches of snow a year. All the sunshine in LA can really get to you. And then the empty buildings. I’m a real estate guy, and the decrepit strip malls really spoke to me.

Me: And there’s a great basketball history there.

LeBron: Absolutely. All you gotta say is the 24-second shot clock.

Me: What makes you think Syracuse is ready to help you win that fifth championship?

LeBron: Just look around—the place is loaded with talent. You start with Mike Tirico, then Bob Costas, Marv Albert, Ian Eagle—the list goes on. And anywhere that gave us Post Malone is obviously legit.

Me: A lot of people might particularly be wondering why Syracuse over Miami. What would you say to that?

LeBron: A lot of those people have never tried Wegmans, salt potatoes, or Pastabilities. And if they ever make it to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, they’ll definitely understand. Plus, I prefer canals to oceans.

Me: What about Syracuse are you most excited about?

LeBron: IKEA.

Me: Where do you see yourself in a few years?

LeBron: Well, let’s hope the highway removal goes as planned, because I’m all about reconnecting neighborhoods. And then I hope to spend a lot of time on the new Micron campus talking chips.

Me: Did you make this move with Bronny in mind?

LeBron: I think anyone who knows me knows I make all my decisions with family in mind. And Bronny, that kid loves sledding. So yeah, because what a thrill it would be for father and son to sled together.

Me: Well, LeBron, I think I speak for everyone in the wasteland that is Upstate New York when I say, Thank you for choosing Syracuse.**

LeBron: You bet.

—

*It’s possible some or all of this conversation with LeBron James was completely fabricated.

**The Syracuse Nationals were founded in 1946, joining the NBA in 1949 and winning the NBA Championship in 1955. In 1963, the franchise moved to Philadelphia and became known as the 76ers.

The post Why LeBron James Chose Syracuse appeared first on ComposeMD.

But I have learned a few things.

When you have a kid who shoots hoops like this, it might be time to look for other talents.

View this post on Instagram

And if you stumble upon this, buy a piano.

View this post on Instagram

Then, rather than harp upon the fact that you ain’t watching varsity sports, embrace the fact that they serve beer at those School of Rock concerts.

We’ll call it Parenting 101.

Yet in the case of the Rust Belt, the parents have been emotionally abusive.

Let’s take a look at Ohio.

From the mid-1900s to 2020, the city of Cleveland lost 542,184 residents.

Over the same time span, Cincinnati went down by 194,681.

Dayton shed 124,688; Toledo bled 112,947; and Akron said bye to 99,882.

Envision that kid playing basketball.

Now envision talking about that shot, over and over.

Call The New York Times and have them write an article on it—followed by another.

Go ahead and make a documentary—followed by another.

Finally, call the kid stupid—again.

To repeat, I’m no expert, but there could be a plan B.

Let’s go back to Ohio.

From 1950 to today, the state’s population has increased from 7.9 million to 11.9 million.

That makes it the nation’s seventh most-populated state (with the seventh-largest state GDP).

The capital, Columbus, has added 562,495 residents over the past 75 years, its metro area growing by 1.7 million.

Picture that piano.

Add some drums and a bass guitar.

Find a School of Rock—ask your wife to drive to the shows.

Have the kid start an Instagram account and dabble in TikTok.

Finally, send him to Tennessee.

Meanwhile, start a blog about this sh*t.

Write a few indie books.

You might still suck at parenting, but at least no one will notice.

The post What Parenting Taught Me About the Rust Belt appeared first on ComposeMD.

This tale goes back a few decades, back to the era when my daily leisure activities were partly dictated by the parents.

One such lovely afternoon—I have no idea exactly when or where—landed me in an IKEA.

And in that place of comfort and joy, I felt something else: misery.

If I recall correctly, there was a winding path through a large showroom, full of furniture and other stuff I didn’t need. Somewhere around there was a restaurant with the (in)famous meatballs. The maze ended in a sort of warehouse, where everything was suddenly in a flat box.

But after that came the worst part of all: going home and assembling the sh*t.

Lack of aptitude coupled with lack of interest, both layered upon mysterious DIY instructions, sealed the deal—I officially hated IKEA.

Over time, of course, the stance softened a bit.

I learned the story—a 17-year-old Swedish kid named Ingvar Kamprad founded the place in 1943, the name being an acronym of his initials, the family farm (Elmtaryd), and his hometown (Agunnaryd).

Its claim to fame, beyond the above, included reasonable pricing and Scandanavian (i.e. minimalist) design.

With something like 500 locations in over 60 countries/territories, the simple beginnings had turned into a global phenomenon.

And I came to realize that anywhere that was anywhere had an IKEA.

That’s when, about 15 years ago, I began pining for one in Upstate New York.

I knew the probability of me ever stepping foot in the store hovered around zero, but I felt an immense desire to brag that Rochester offered spherical animal protein, planar boxes, and the chance to spend hours putting together a desk.

Rumors swirled, but nothing materialized.

In typical Rochester fashion, the ideal spot for an IKEA instead became an orthopedic unit or something of the like.

I waited patiently, finding some solace in the opening of a Whole Foods, which I drove by regularly but never entered.

And then, in 2025, the unthinkable happened.

About 75 miles east, in the metropolis of Syracuse, IKEA opened its first ever Upstate New York location.

Granted, it was a small-format store—not the traditional behemoth—but I knew immediately that the Salt City had an economy, even mentioning the mammoth occurrence in this book.

About eight months later, in equally shocking fashion, I learned that a similar-sized location would be opening in nearby Buffalo.

In other words, despite evidence to the contrary, I mattered.

Thank you, IKEA.

The post I Hate You IKEA—but Thank You appeared first on ComposeMD.