Punk is Dad: a Detroit Saga

What's up, punks and skins.

To be honest with all of you, Yours Truly doesn't get much of a chance these days to show the world I still have some small degree of coolness coursing through my veins.  Kinda hard to squeeze that in while hanging out in my Pinterest-y decorated home (thanks, wife), listening to boy bands and shitty, Top 40 rap-pop blaring across various Alexa-enabled devices (thanks, Alayna) and trying to sponge up a gigantic bowl of cereal from the living room carpet while juvenile Youtube vines blare across a TV no one's watching (thanks, Abby.)

I drink three beers and feel it for days afterwards.  I yell incoherently at other drivers on the road over the obnoxious color they chose for their too-big-for-Midland SUVs.  Sometimes I look at my yard and am filled with such murderous rage that I want to torch the entire thing to the ground and drive salt into the ashes so that nothing ever grows there again.  You know, give it the ol' Carthage treatment.

Welcome to the Motor City. . .

But I used to be cool.  I really did.

If only to remind myself of this simple fact, once and awhile I will go off and do something that's deemed cool.  I'll do something like, say, go to a rowdy punk show in a sleazy downtown music hall, to revel in the catalog of a band that provided some of the backing score to my early 20s.  Now that I'm pushing 40, I have to do this more and more often, if only to hold onto that tiny flame of cool that used to rage like a barn fire.

So this, dear friends, is the story of how Yours Truly, accompanied by my ever-present, partner-in-crime, BP, recaptured some 'cool' in their daily, late-30s life.

The Bouncing Souls.  Detroit Rock City.

Let's do this. . .

BP and I reserved a hotel room at the Greektown Casino and Hotel, right in the heart of downtown Detroit.  I was coming South from Midland, and he was coming East from Grand Rapids, and where our two highways intersected was near the city of Brighton.  Here we left my car locked up at a Park and Go (one of those lots you always see full of empty cars, left behind by car-poolers), and took BP's ride the rest of the way into Detroit.

Some church or Jedi temple outside the hotel we stayed at.

The Greektown Casino and Hotel.  Parking for this place was ambiguous at best:  the valets pointed us in a random direction towards a parking garage a few blocks away that was supposedly connected by glass walkways to the hotel, but it was a pain in the ass to find.

This is what we ended up finding.  It was about a ten-minute walk from our hotel, but we didn't plan on accessing our car again until we had to check out of the hotel, so we didn't care too much.

Thank God they didn't label the parking garage level we parked on too big. . .

BP (wearing chode shorts, at right), checking in for our room reservation.  We arrived around dinner time, but had picked up snacks (and booze) at a Meijer along the way until we could get settled and explore the area a bit.  The concert wasn't until the following evening - we came down a day early to hang out in Detroit, hit up some bars and record stores, and otherwise not hang out with our respective families.

In the elevator.

Our room.  It was pretty fancy (and expensive), but it didn't even have a f***ing refrigerator.  I probably wouldn't stay here again if given the choice.

Aside from a random rooftop, the view was pretty solid (that's Canada off in the distance there, across the Detroit River.)

More artsy Detroit shots (you'll get a lot of those with this post, folks - be forewarned.)

Copious shots of our room.  We paid a lot for it, so I was documenting it.

 

Some handsome guy, and a sink.

Setting off to explore a little of the surrounding area and retrieve the rest of our stuff from the car, a few blocks away.

Some church that sat across the street from the hotel.

Greektown.

The Renaissance Center, off in the distance.

 

Without a doubt.  The punk-est man in Detroit.

The fabled glass causeways leading from the parking garage to the Hotel. . .

En route back to the hotel, we stumbled upon. . . whatever the blue f*** this thing is.

Looks to be out of a Kubrik film.

I love the art deco style in these old Detroit buildings. . .

Having a preliminary drink or two in the hotel room while we plot our course of action for the evening. 

Had to get a picture of our room phone:  they're IDENTICAL to the phones I use at work.

BP scans the city skyline.

Some chick and a baby she just stole.  Only in Detroit.

Old buildings are awesome.  I wish all buildings looked like this.

Walking downtown, heading over to a reputable bar that was six blocks away.  See the joint on the corner, there?  We'd return there the following evening for some beers in the hours leading up to the show.

On the way to the bar, we passed by Saint Andrew's - the venue we'd be seeing the Bouncing Souls at the following night.

I totally forgot the name of this place we ate/drank at this evening, but you surely can't forget what it looks like.  Definitely stuck out like a sore thumb, but holy shit was it ever cool.

Coming into the joint, I saw this hanging on a wall.  Detroit, Michigan, paying respects to its elders.

This place was half-bar, half-pizzeria, half vintage arcade gallery.  The pizzeria and vintage gaming area was upstairs, with the bar downstairs.  It was like I had died and gone to Heaven.

So.  Many.  Choices.

I could've easily wasted $100 in quarters in this joint.

After revisiting several childhood classics upstairs, we moseyed downstairs and saddled up to the bar for some 'dinner' and some beers.

The bartender recommended these fries, which were pretty damn good (this is what dinner looks like when you're eating with a friend instead of your wife.)  They had a solid craft beer selection to choose from as well.

Behold the bizarro men's room in this joint. . .

After dinner and some drinks, we decided to head back towards Greektown in order to hit up some other watering holes.  I forget what this particular building was, but we walked right in front of it.  Soooo there you go.

Foreshadowing.

We didn't go into this place, but it had a neon Africa in its window so I felt obligated to take a picture of it.

More of Greektown

There were multiple glass causeways that passed to and fro overhead of these streets throughout Greektown, somehow connecting the parking garage with the hotel and casino.  We tried walking all the way from one point to another, but we never figured out how to do it successfully.

 

Back in the room for a bathroom break and another drink before heading down to the Greektown Casino.  From our view, we noticed smoke rising from somewhere in the distance.  I'm sure that's normal for Detroit.

Down in Slottsville.  Big spender.

We only hung out down there for an hour or so, but I ended up winning like eight bucks more than I walked in with, so I was cool with it.

More of Greektown, heading back to the hotel.

Look at that G.I. Joe vehicle - I bet it has missiles that roll out from the side.

Day II

The next day, after drinking some as-could-be-expected pretty shitty room coffee, we checked out of our hotel room and made our way back to the car.

Downtown was under construction in several areas, so getting out of there was a definite pain in the ass.

Umm. . . what?

Comerica Park.  We didn't stop.

 

We went to a couple thrift stores first (local parish ones, Salvation Army, etc.) before we decided to branch out into different areas of the city.

Recognize this church?  Fort Street Presbyterian Church.  Kris and I got married here in October of 2007.  If you're reading this, there's a pretty solid chance you were there.

Around what should've been lunchtime in the rest of the known world, BP and I drove out to Corktown (yes, that's a place) in order to check out a reputable record store we heard about online.

Gotta love the murals around the city - wish they did more of that kinda stuff up here in the suburbs.

Wanna hear a crazy fact about Vernors?  The founder of the company rode with Gen. Sherman during the Civil War, and was part of a cavalry detachment that arrested Confederate president Jefferson Davis as he fled the capital of Richmond as it fell to Union forces.  I f***ing love history, and I f***ing love Vernors. 

Welcome to Hello Records, America.  A small place, but an incredible selection.

We've recently gotten BP into vinyl.  A definite slippery slope.  I spent about $60 in this joint, and earned a few freebies by talking shop with the owner of the store.

Check it out, folks - more murals.  It was into the afternoon by the time we finished shopping, and after dumping our newly-acquired treasures into BP's car, we decided to check out a local sandwich joint that was a couple blocks away that the record store owner recommended.

I don't think Detroit votes Red.  Call me crazy.

Mudgie's is a boutique-style sandwich eatery that features high-end gourmet sandwiches that are apparently super famous in the area.  We were both beyond starving, having eaten absolutely nothing since our greasy bar food almost twenty-four hours earlier.

This was absolutely incredible.  If you can believe it, it was the only thing I ate all day:  after eating this thing (which was easily 3,000 calories and approximately the size of a football), I was full for the rest of the evening.

After lunch, we opted to drive up through Corktown to another record store while we digested.

This is a pretty depressing sight, for sure. . . but the fact that the rusted, old sign is still standing should say something about what the locals feel about it.

This is where Tiger Stadium used to stand.  In case you were curious.

 

We'd end up spending a couple hours on this strip of stores. . . after unsuccessfully attempting to catch a short nap in BP's car, that is.

Third Man Records, owned by Whites Stripes front man - and famous Michigan resident - Jack White.  I've been wanting to check this place out for quite awhile.  Had to twist BP's arm a bit, but it was worth it.

(We had to park a block or two away and cut through a shady parking lot to backtrack there.)

 

Third Man Records is part record store, part clothing store, part Michigan music museum, part boutique, part recording studio, and part record-pressing plant (this is where they press all their Third Man releases.)

See the windows at the far back of this hall?  They overlook the vinyl pressing plant, where technicians were pressing records.  I was gonna take a picture of them doing this, but felt that'd be kinda weird.

BP checks out some rock and roll artifacts they have on display.

We hung out there for about an hour, and while BP was cool not getting anything, I wanted to look over every, last square inch of that place.  They had an okay selection of records, but a lot of it was stuff I either hadn't heard of or else what they had was too expensive.  I ended up settling for a slip mat for my turntable, which looks pretty badass if I do say so myself.

Saw this dude bein' creepy at a local gas station.  What the hell is he doing?

More treasure hunting in the greater metro area. . .

We had to kill some time before the show, and were getting pretty shopped out by this point, so we decided to walk off some of the food we were still digesting at a local park.

This place had these miniature train tracks running all over the place, so we just followed these around for a bit in order to burn off some of our ridiculously heavy (and delicious) lunch.

 

 

We assumed these large, metal sheds were where they kept the train cars when they're not in use.

Track switches.  I think.

Eventually, we made our way back into downtown Detroit, and resigned ourselves to having to park several blocks away from the venue in order to find a good parking space.  You can imagine our elation, therefore, when we stumbled across a totally legit parking space about 300 yards from the venue, right in front of this building.

BP totally scored on this job right here - it was seriously a two minute walk to Saint Andrew's from here.

We still had two hours to kill before the show, however, so we walked past the venue and decided to bide our time at a local watering hole.

Remember me mentioning this place earlier in this blog post?

A total dive bar, but it met our needs.

I lifted a few pictures from the Bouncing Souls' Instagram feed.  Here's the band with some fans before the show, as BP and I were downing a few pints around the corner from the venue.

Saint Andrew's.  They had security screening people outside the joint, which was cool because it cut down on lines.  Showing one's ticket on a phone via the Ticketmaster app was pretty convenient as well.

The opening bands were meh, as could be expected.  But the Bouncing Souls, as always, were phenomenal.

 

We stood towards the back of the hall, and Yours Truly took up a position at the foot of the stairs that run up to the wings on either side that overlook the main floor.  These stairways were roped off at the second step (the wings were reserved for people who paid for a premium ticket), meaning that I could still stand on the first step and see over the heads of the entire crowd.  I counted about twenty times fellow concert-goers would come up to me, assuming I worked at Saint Andrew's, and ask if they could go up the stairs, and I'd have to turn them away.  Pretty hilarious.

Backstage pics from the band's Instagram feed.

They played a solid mix of jams from their early days, several deep tracks, and ones from their newer albums.  These guys never disappoint live, I can tell you that much.

After the show, we were able to get to BP's car and hit the road within a matter of minutes.  From there, it was a quick, easy drive back up to Brighton where I was able to pick up my own car and start the lengthy, tiresome drive back up to Midland.  I'd end up getting home around 2am, and would have to be up early in order to start packing up our vehicles for our upcoming camping trip in Silverlake, but it was totally worth it.

Should've included this earlier:  here's my substantial score from my punk rock mini-vacation in Detroit.  Punk is Dad. 

- Brian