It's time for Detroit's Favorite Holiday -- Happy Jimmy Hoffa Day!
July 30 is Jimmy Hoffa Day. People who don't live here may not know this, but Jimmy Hoffa Day is a big holiday in this area. We take it very seriously, it's loaded with frolic and fun. And, who can't use a good holiday now and then?
The day usually starts with the customary Jimmy Hoffa Day cake for breakfast. But, the good news for dieters, you have to find the cake before you can eat it. The cook sings this song to the happy celebrants: "Look high, look low, look everywhere you know, a Jimmy Hoffa Cake, I did just for you bake." It's a very, very healthy cake, the main ingredient, air, having no calories. Some folks, well, if they're not so quick on the uptake, get kinda mad when they realize a Jimmy Hoffa Cake, like Bigfoot or Nessie, seems to be rumored but never found.
True devotees begin their day with an early morning pilgrimage to what was the Machus Red Fox restaurant in Bloomfield Hills, the place the merriment began. Of course, now being the parking lot of an Andiamo's Italian Grill at a strip mall, it tends to be, well ... boring. To break the monotony, folks usually dig through the wood chips in the traffic islands and poke through the shrubbery for pieces of Jimmy.
And, then the real fun begins -- the day long treasury hunt for whatever may be left of Jimmy. This involves the main event of the day, the Hoffa Dig. And, dig we do -- everywhere Jimmy might be -- under barns and swimming pools, in Detroit's abandoned factories, even at the bottom of golf course ponds. Jimmy may not be found, but if you have a great hole in the right spot, fill it with wood, let it burn, and a few hours later, viola, you won't find Jimmy, but you may find a great clambake waiting for you, along with friends, wine, and perhaps another entire Jimmy Hoffa Cake.
The day ends with the most important event, the airing of death threats, a la The Soprano's or any other mob movie/tv series you have ever seen. Folks gather for the fun, playing the role of local mobsters like the Giacoloni's or the Cipriano's, threatening to whack each other and "make you sleep with the fishes like Jimmy." Maybe some fireworks in the back yard, too -- be sure to light off a lot of those little firecrackers that sound just like gunshots!
Yes, we may not be dancing in the streets any more, but Detroiters sure know how to party when we remember our favorite corrupt Teamsters president.
Hey, if Seinfeld can invent Festivus, I can invent Jimmy Hoffa Day, all in extreme poor taste. 
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