The Juggalo Hoedown Coverage Continues with the rest of the story. The event was pretty rad and everyone had a great time. Check it out now.

Cont.

So, there I was cruising down 75 in the daytime heat. The sun was out and things were moving along nicely until they weren’t. Somewhere, in the not-so-distant future, I was about to get fucked by the traffic gods. I don’t pray to them, so they got pissed. The next thing I know, I’m bumper to bumper, and going nowhere fast. What I thought was a minor inconvenience turned into a fucking odyssey of despair, anguish, and cramping leg muscles. I had hit the mother load of traffic non-sense and it was only just beginning. The tiny screen on my phone screamed at me with the news that I was in a holding pattern of bad traffic for at least the next fifty minutes. That meant the fucking garden slugs were lapping me. By the time I got to I-94, my bladder felt like it was going to rupture. I had been in danger of calling it quits, giving up, and letting the bastards win. I pushed on though and I’m so glad that I did. Especially when I got a taste of the Skate Park and the scene.

Livernois Bound

So, we met up with DJ Carlito at his crib, before picking up the Hood Picasso and linking up with Bob. There were a few moving parts but we got things under control. I was in better spirits after meeting up with the crew. Everyone was decked out in their Cruisin The Barrio gear and the night was starting to shape up. A few burners were fired off to get everyone in the right head space and then we were off to the races. We got to the park well and good, but parking was a little tight.

Arrival at the Juggalo Hoedown

I was able to park in the street, but it was pretty much at max capacity. I settled for partially resting on the speed bump, but the G-Ride could take it (Author’s Note: 2009 used Impala that makes a strange noise from time to time, floating out of the dash, this isn’t the 1964 Chevy Impala that Dr. Dre was talking about on the “Chronic” which was released December 15th, 1992). We unloaded from the car and started up the street. There was some parking in the alley way, but things had gotten a little overgrown in spots. Not that a few weeds were going to hold anyone back. We walked up a small dirt path to the entrance of the Ride It Sculpture Park. I could feel the energy in the air. I knew that it was going to be a good night. Once I entered the space, things started to get moving. I entered slowly, not wanting to walk into someone riding their wave. There were skaters (90’s term I still use, sign of respect) posted up on the wall, others in small groups, and fucking graffiti to the fullest. I was a tagger back in the day (mostly bomb style pieces, no wild style. I got up with Krylon when I could afford it, but mostly it was sharpies and cheap spray paint. I was usually broke) and to be around it in such wonderful in your face display made me smile. For the record it takes a lot to get my soul to smile. Well done.

The place was a living art piece and I wanted to build a house there. Someone had already beaten me to the punch, because there was rad ass tree house up above the action. The eye in the sky. I love that shit. Later in the evening the tree house/platform would have a few cats chilling up there. I bet the view was fucking spectacular. When I go back, I’m going to get up in that shit and see what there is to see. The sounds of the place were electric. The skate wheels rolling, laughter, music, and the street traffic sounded like the New York Symphony to me. It was music to my ears. The human pulse…that beat of the street. The instant I landed I didn’t want to leave. We edged over to the side of the park, in the back. In rehab (Brighton, Oakdale, Maplegrove, Liberty Street in Ann Arbor, and a lot of other places) we’d call this spot relapse row. I guess the fun people always post up on the edge or the back. Go figure. The Cruisin The Barrio clique settled in and the smoke started to go around. And around. And around. I got into a pretty good head space with the Devil’s Lettuce before floating out to interact and capture the essence. The place made my head spin because no matter where you looked, it was jam packed with “look at me” shit. I couldn’t stop staring in every direction. Thank God we had the weed because I needed to slow down my inner speed. There were plenty of Juggalos in face paint to be sure. Although I probably looked weird, wandering around taking pictures, no one said anything or bothered me. Everyone was friendly that I encountered. All the while, as I walked around taking pictures, the skaters kept on doing their thing. They allowed us to chill in their space without complaining and I thought that was a class act. It was their space, we were just visiting.

At some point a Juggalo announced that there was plenty of water and that people needed to stay hydrated. I agreed one hundred and started to make a plan for water myself. I was actually hungry by then and was kinda fucked because I didn’t bring any rations. Like out of a movie, the lady announced that there was hot dogs and chili, everything was a dollar to cover costs, over on the side of the walk. I’m older now and unlike my younger self, when I get a chance to fuel up at a show, I do it. Sometimes the nights can last forever. Better to have a full belly, so that your mind will have no distractions from soaking up the goodness. The last thing the lady said was that they had paid for the food and drinks, so donations and paying for entrance helped. I understood immediately and decided to kick in for my part. I was there enjoying a cool scene, they had done a great job in making sure people had what they needed. Who can’t get behind that? I walked over and kicked them a twenty for food. You know what? I was happy to do it. I support anyone that is working to get people out of the houses and back into the streets like we used to.

8ish and some change

As more people started to show up, we got comfortable on the side of one of the smooth concrete ramps. It was built for passing out on, with such a perfect slope. I guess if you roll over a lot, it could be a problem though. Eventually waking up at the bottom. Better than waking up in jail though. It can always be worse my friends. The opening band was pretty dope. It was a three piece, with a pretty heavy sound. I dug their vibe and personality. Anyone that can play with passion is a saint. I can see that and I can feel that. What a dope moment. I had been so busy documenting the scene, that the homies called me over. “You’re not supposed to be working tonight, War Chief, tonight we are having a good time”. I agreed one hundred percent but there is something inside me which cannot be turned off. When I get around things that talk to me, I’m hooked. I needed to get about fifty more pictures, than I could relax.

Sure as shit that moment eventually came, and I drifted over to the CTB zone. Carlito handed me a birthday balloon and the whole night took another turn…down that wonderful rabbit hole. I hadn’t done NOS outside since Juggalo Weekend in Arizona. The Red Roof Inn had been jumping and I found a birthday party there. There is nothing like NOS in the great outdoors. The shit is made to party with and outside is the best, even if it can be problematic. The Gas Gods were smiling on me and allowed me to really get into the rhythm of the park. The colors, the imagery, the distortions of sound, that brief touch of the heavenly. Shit man, I was locked. That doesn’t always happen and when it does, I look and listen. That’s where you find cool shit. When I was a kid, a birthday balloon might go rather fast but in my old age, I’ve learned how to stretch the scratch out. And all around me, this real life versions of KIDS was happening (KIDS: 1995, directed by Larry Clark. If you dig youth, the skate life, the I don’t give a fuck life, the make bad decisions and crash and burn life, the epic state of coming of age…then you must watch this movie. It is one of the realest depictions of kids and how they go through life, during that wild time…that I’ve ever seen. Don’t fuck around man, just go watch the MFER)

The boys had done their homework. I was in love with the place. The Easter Eggs kept coming though, because there was some Juggalos with righteous shroom power. Super Mario type epic looking bad boys. It was P.E. if you are hip to the scene. I’m telling you man, it was a tight piece at the park. The music kept rolling and although I didn’t remember the 2nd performer. He was like a one man show, I don’t think he had a band. Anyway shit got fucked up, dude needed a blue tooth speaker or some shit. When that failed the guy pushed further and kicked his track with the car speakers. The kid gave it his all (I’m older so anyone thats twenty years younger than me, I might say kid, although it has no disrespect or ill will associated with it. It’s just what humans use to call other humans that were alot younger.

The third band though…those guys woke me up from the stratosphere. I had been going further to see what I could see. And then this band started to come into focus. It took a minute to register with a head full of gas, but then it was like “asshole, wake up, there is something cool happening again”. I listened to the on board system. It was the same guys I had been talking to before the gig. I gave them my card and told them to get at me. I hope they send me an email because I’d like to deep dive their music some more, get the word out…ya know.

The sun had gone down and the street had come alive. The Detroit Fire Department periodically would go rushing by in the night, lights and sirens. The Detroit Police cruised by a few times but never fucked with anyone about music, noise, or any Juggalo shenanigans. Another time a tough looking charger or mustang blew by and as they passed the park, a tire exploded, causing some interest. Over our heads, a helicopter was slowly making the rounds. It was a night that would be with me forever. I’m a very visual person and action is the best. I constantly am looking for vibrant and amazing scenes and I was lucky enough to find another one, fifty miles from home. An hour drive to exprience a night you might remember for a host of reasons, is a pretty good deal man. The skaters all around, kept up their paces, never bothered by the things in their way. The patience of a mountain. I dig that.

There were several moments in the night, where I was happy, I mean really happy. I was glad that I made it down. I felt like I had stumbled into a cool scene, and like all cool scenes, sometimes they are hard to find, when we lose our way. Keep the trails open. We rise together and what makes us different is what makes us all cool as individuals. Everyone together forever. I think that’s the deal on Earth.

Towards the end of the night, there was one DJ who took the last watch. His shit was good, the NOS was doing what it needed to do, and everyone melted into the moment. If your life is dull and you sit around night after night…thinking about what could be, then maybe it’s time to get moving. There are nice people in this scene. If you don’t have friends, come and make some. This is the type of shit that you want to say you were at when you are an old person, bragging in the lunch line at the local Orphanage for Adults about how you did something once. Tell your kids, or your grandkids someday. It’s cool. The continuation. The circle. They say life is a play and we all play our part if we so choose. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot these days. I was happy to help with my little role as a crazy writer, getting in rhythm. 

As the night started to wind down, the skater’s never abandoned their post. They were there when I got there, and they were there when we left. Right on brothers and sisters. Get down, James Brown!!!

Signing Off,

Mike Shepard

ROX-TV

Special shout out to the Hammer and Sickle homie I talked with during the event. He was really nice to talk with. I hope I run into that cat again.