Multiconstruct

We continued to drive down Grand River until a building with mirrors glued all over it caught our eye. Trevor made a quick u-turn and we were back. It was a Heidelbergesque project with the mirror building and in the back a huge installation of found object art. There were a bunch of chairs with chunks of concrete in them (Trevor’s interpretation place holders for when the people come back, my interpretation the deadening effects of school), and most striking a large sort of scare crow made out of slices of vinyl interior topped with an African mask. It was Dabl’s bead museum and we got to meet the propetier who invited us to look around and told us it was a 10 year project. We took the tour and checked out how he had expanded to a nearby abandoned building. There were African language lessons painted on the sidewalks. It was all very cool. A little art in the wreckage, very postapocalyptic and it fit in great with the increasing number of abandoned buildings as we got deeper into Detroit. We also got directions to our hotel as my discount atlas didn’t have Trumbul though I had a fair idea based on the old Tiger Stadium. We drove to the hotel and I was struck on the incredible decline of Trumbul. Michigan and Trumbul is a grass lot, all of the sports bars and restaurants I remembered from my childhood were closed. It was very much a ghost town. We arrived at our hotel and checked in. There was the dank smell of marijuana in the first floor hall and a musty odor on the 4th floor. The room was small but nice and appeared clean.

Then it was off to see some jazz. We decided to walk as it wasn’t much more than a mile to Hart plaza. We caught some pieces of sets and moved from stage to stage. My favorite was an electronic act with the voice all altered and playing loops and it was very fun and the performers looked like they were having a good time. I like jazz a lot when its live and you can feel a part of it but i’m not a fan enough to know bands or probably really appreciate what they are doing.

It was most fun watching the people. It was very diverse 45/45 black and white and 10% everything else. Except for the dearth of children it was pretty age diverse and there were homeless to the bourgeois. Jazz is a uniter not a divider. We left early because it was colder than shit. September in Missouri is far superior. I hadn’t even brought a jacket thinking a long sleeve shirt would be sufficient. I had picked one up at a thrift store and was glad to have it in spite of its unsettling dirty sleeves (they washed up nice you may care to know).

We walked back to the hotel full of jazz. We were debating getting a 6 pack and ordering pizza but we stumbled across a Coney Island instead. I had a fairly good patty melt but trevor’s tuna melt looked tastier.