SEVEN RULES FOR LIVING IN DETROIT: OR, HOW TO NOT LOOK LIKE A DUMBASS THE MOMENT YOU GET HERE

Let's begin with some rules for how to live in Detroit. The first one is to remember that a coney dog, the famous Detroit delicacy, does not define the city. It is just a hot dog with meat sauce on it.

I don't want to say that the coney dog is not special. It's just not spectacular, even if almost every list, travel piece, think piece, and essay about Detroit mentions it. It is simply cheap meat on top of cheaper meat with cheap garnish.

The coney dog has earned its rightful place, but it is so deeply ingrained in Detroit culture that newcomers and visitors — I won't say outsiders — begin to associate this city with coney dogs alone. "Oh, I've gotta get a coney!" "Where are those coney places?" "What's the best coney?"

Our two most famous coney dog spots are American Coney Island and Lafayette Coney Island, and they both have the good fortune of being located in downtown Detroit. They seat few, and they only take cash. They are iconic, legendary restaurants — but they are not the only way to define this city. The other icons of Detroit culture — the plant where Henry Ford instituted the $5-a-day wage, the two studios where Berry Gordy made music to make the world dance, and the new farms reclaiming the earth where ribbon farms of the 1800s were plentiful — are perhaps more important.

Eating a coney dog does not define living in Detroit, because living here is not simple. It can be hard to live here, but easy existence is boring. Here in Detroit, you live. You live experiences unmatched.

Detroit is much more than restaurants; it is the churches, the ubiquitous, required soul music, the children, the sports, the cars, the schools, the endless line dances fashioned from creative minds, the art we could have lost and the love we find in the littlest things.

The second rule of living in Detroit is to recognize how large and diverse it is. No two experiences are shared. Knowing how many people — currently around 700,000 on a good day, down from highs of 2 million — inhabit its 139-square-mile space is key to going forward, because your Detroit experience will be different than anyone else's.

Don't trust the listicles and slideshows, no matter how inspiring and positive they may be. Much that has been written about Detroit and is still being written about Detroit is done by the hands of residents still getting their feet wet themselves.

That's a good segue into your third rule of living here: never, ever weigh your Detroit experience against the next person's. I've seen people come here after, like, a year, and all of a sudden are dictating to people who have lived here forever what it's like in Detroit. What arrogance.

For instance, I visited a trendy home-design store in the city where they sell these canvas tote bags that read: "I'm just more Detroit than you." How does carrying a tote bag make someone more Detroit than me? When I was in kindergarten, my mom and I spent a night sleeping in our bathtub because the guy in the apartment next door decided that was a good night to shoot his wife in a domestic dispute. I thought the blood on the walls of the hallway was ketchup. That's just one of the crazy stories a Detroiter might have. Put that on your tote bag.

Fourth rule: Be careful of people who make rules and tell you they are actually more Detroit than you. There are Detroiters all around who will try to tell you that there are certain authenticity tests you must pass before you can call yourself a Detroiter. Absolutely none of those tests will be accurate, because as I said before, we all have different experiences.

Some will try to say that you haven't lived in Detroit unless you've gone to this bar, or you haven't lived in Detroit unless you've had this crazy thing happen to you, or you don't really live in Detroit because you don't live in a certain neighborhood, or you're not really a Detroiter unless you've lived here for a certain amount of time, or you're not really Detroit unless you've met some other out-of-thin- air checklist most likely made up by some kid at Wayne State who thinks he knows every goddamn thing because he survived getting mugged outside the Temple Bar. It's all bullshit.

However, there is one thing you will be quizzed on. We introduce ourselves not just by saying hello, but asking where you went to high school. You see, in casual conversation, once two or more people find out they are both from Detroit, we like to know immediately if we have common ground. So we ask about high school. High school gives one clues as to the other's upbringing and background. We know where the east-side schools are and where the west-side schools are. And we don't judge your upbringing or background; we simply ask because most native Detroiters are separated by six degrees or less. Seriously! Everybody knows somebody who knows so-and-so. Yeah, someone's cousin's auntie used to be a hairdresser for Aretha Franklin or something. That's how it works, and that's how we make conversation.

If your high school is not in Detroit, then we might find out you're from the suburbs and then you might get judged. But we'll talk about that later.

The fifth rule applies to all you transplants from New York City and other places that are really expensive: please do not consider moving to Detroit part of a deep, soul-touching experience that will wash clean the sins of your past and renew your spiritual energy to live in your purpose. This ain't fucking Eat, Pray, Love, OK? You likely moved here because you either wanted to further your career or you got priced out of where you were. Please don't call yourself a "pioneer," because that implies you are settling — colonizing? — uninhabited land. People already live here. Don't say you're on "vacation" — does this look like a resort to you? Don't say you're on "safari," because here, safari is "Africa" and safari is "looking at things in the wild," and we're starting to unearth some nasty racial undertones, aren't we? And boy, we're going to talk about race a lot if you decide to keep reading.

(A special note for...