Dally in the Alley

"Proof."

In a word, that is what I found at the 31st annual Dally in the Alley festival last Saturday in Detroit. I found proof that Detroit is worth the effort. I found proof that Detroit is real, and it is alive and well. I found proof that if you are open-minded, Detroit will smack you square in the face with its culture, art, and music.

For nearly 6 hours, I wandered back and forth, up and down, and all around the streets and alleys of 2nd, 3rd, Hancock and Forest. Most of that time, I had no idea where my friends where, or if I still had any, but it didn't matter. I spent the entire night in search of one, just one, crap-ass musical performance, but was unable to do so. From the reggae band-lead skatting amazing words that I never knew existed, to the wailing violin of El Gato Legato, to my new wife playing base for 800beloved, to the infectious beats pouring from the techno stage all night... holy crap, that was some good shite.

Were you there? I think I saw everyone once. Next time, look for the guy with the camera wandering around aimlessly by himself and say "Hi." He moves quickly, though. I still suck at photography, but what I did capture is here. Or, just click on the picture to the left.

PS: Yeah, I know. The timeliness of this unofficial and semi-lame report is untimely, but I've been illin'. And I don't mean RUN D.M.C. style, either. Your fake and insincere concern warms my heart.

PPS: WTF is with that dance that guys do, when they stand over a group of girls with their arms waiving up in the air... as if they're directing a 747 into the terminal at DTW? Seriously, what is the story behind that idiocy? I must know. Actually, I don't blame the guys who do it. They're trying and can't help being mindless boobs. I'm really just angry at the girls who let the guys do it to them. That dance was in full-force at the techno stage on Saturday night.

PPPS: Did I mention that I spent ZERO dollars that night?!