ROX-TV Invades Tucson Arizona for Insane Clown Posse’s Juggalo Weekend 2022. If you didn’t make it, read all about it here. Part 1

Welcome back to the ROX-TV website. As always, we’d like to thank the returning readers and welcome anyone for the first time. Everyone has a place here, regardless of the endless categories and backgrounds. ROX-TV likes to reserve this space for music devotees and the faithful. The light will always be left on for you. With that being said, I’d like to say that tonight’s two-part series “Insane Clown Posse’s Juggalo Weekend, Tucson Arizona 2022″ is here for your reading and viewing pleasure.

For those readers who have been following along, they will know that ROX-TV was heading off to Arizona to cover the blockbuster Juggalo Weekend, which took place at the Rialto Theatre in Tucson (February 18th and 19th). Well…I’m glad to announce that we covered the event righteously and have brought back the very best images and content for you tonight. Even if you couldn’t make the event, this article will take you inside the nights of dynamite and allow you to see what it was like for us and those that attended. What’s the next best thing than appearing in person? Being there in spirit. So, without further to do, I give to you Part 1 of the series…333

1,997 Miles to Destiny

As with anything worthwhile, the journey can be long and hard. ROX-TV was about to embark on a great adventure across the country and the only thing standing in our way was one thousand, nine hundred and ninety-seven miles. That my friend, is a nice chunk of road to cover, no matter how you cut it up. Under most circumstances, it would have been a daunting challenge, but because the gold at the end of the rainbow was the “Juggalo Weekend” event in Tucson, there were no worries or concerns. ROX-TV was about to cover the greatest band on earth and even if the miles had been double or tripled, nothing was going to stop the machine from getting there.

Juggalos and Juggalettes are willing to go to great lengths in order to celebrate their culture and a few thousand miles was not going to stop that. The Juggalo Family is strong and so are their ideals and love, so it was going down no matter what, at the famous Rialto Theatre in Tucson. The Rialto Theatre was and still is a famous theatre in the heart of town, with its own history to boot. Located at 318 E. Congress Street, the theatre opened its doors in 1920.

(Author’s Note: While exploring the history of the Rialto Theatre and examining the history listed on the official website, it says that that a “Rialto” has its roots in Venice Italy, when a medieval wooden covered bridge would be constructed with “novelty” shops close by. Apparently, this created a “business district” in places that did not have one previously. I found that to be rather interesting).

The Rialto has a very interesting history, and I would encourage anyone to do some digging on their own. History is fun and valuable, just waiting all around for you to notice. So, there I was, loading up my bag and watching the clock. I was waiting for my homeboy Bob Roxxx to dip through the spot and scoop me up. I was full of optimism and good will, and the only thing I wanted to see was the Clowns live once again. For those of you that have never been to see the Clowns, well…that’s a shame. As of 2022, I know of no other place where people can come together and have a good fucking time, like they can at an ICP show.

The rhythm of the scene is intoxicating, the music is always loud and soul shaking, and humanity gets a chance to unwind together (with some help from Faygo, Marijuana, and a splash of booze). An ICP show is a place where friends come to reunite with each other, and new bonds are formed with strangers. Stop me if this sounds like the family reunions of old. How can I explain what it is like to travel across the country, leaving home thousands of miles behind, only to share time and bump into friends on the other side? It feels really good and that’s no jive.

I’m getting slightly ahead of myself, but almost immediately upon arriving in Tucson, I started bopping into people I knew from Detroit and the Murder Mitten. How many other people can follow a band and have that same experience? I won’t hold my breath because I don’t think there is an appropriate answer coming. No one does an event like the Juggalos or the Insane Clown Posse and that’s on the level. The family love and bonds that penetrate the scene are real and puts the entire culture on its own private top shelf.

When was the last time you had a good time out on the town? Three years ago? Maybe it has been longer, a decade or so? Well, if this describes you and it’s time for a change, than buy a ticket and take the ride. There is nothing to be afraid of except the fear itself. Despite whatever garbage shit has been spun about the ICP and their fans over the years, if you didn’t hear it directly from them, I can assure you that you have been the victim of some bad information. (Perhaps you’ve heard vicious stories about Juggalo Gangs from the Federal Bureau of Investigations, a hell fire damnation from entertainment outlets, or just don’t like to think for yourself and enjoy two-bit gossip from people who don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. Regardless of the source, if it comes from outside the Dark Carnival realm, it’s probably wrong and missing the mark).

Throw out all the misconceptions and go see for yourself. I find that this practice is usually the most effective and trustworthy. The old-fashioned game of “telephone” maybe fun to play in elementary school but should not be a source for information regarding bands or their concerts.

So where was I? Oh yes, waiting on a friend and a ride, to carry me across the nation into the desert. Up until this point in my life, I had never been to Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, or Arizona so I was happy to be checking them off the bucket list. Travelling is one of the best ways to expand your frame of reference, perspective, and world view…and I encourage anyone who can hit the road from time to time, to do so. It can be somewhat exhilarating to leave your home behind for a trip into the unknown. We are only on this particular ride once, so don’t waste it.

The Meat Grinder

For those that have taken to the road, it can definitely be a “Meat Grinder” as the miles and time accumulate. We were staring down the barrel of a thirty-hour drive and there was nothing else to do but bite the proverbial bullet so to speak. We were on a timeline, and it didn’t leave much left over for sleep or fucking about. We aimed the ride down the highway and started to get the ball rolling. There is no substitute for fast speeds and getting the miles in, so that’s exactly what we did. I’ve been to Ohio many times in the past, driving to other locations, so that leg of the trip was boring and mostly un-eventful. I wasn’t in the market for fireworks, and it was the off season anyway. Beyond that, Ohio was just another state on the line.

We got off to a late start, so the sun was fading fast. Within a few hours, we found ourselves parting the night like the Red Sea. Sometime around midnight, I took up the wheel and tried my hand at steering the ship. As usual, the weather decided that I was not facing enough obstacles and turned on the rain. This rain was not the good time sexy mist of Spring time…no sir, it was heavy and cold. The effect was that my visibility was piss poor and also prevented the lead foot from coming alive. We felt each mile, like a rock underneath a Chuck Taylor shoe. We pressed on into the dark and hoped for better conditions ahead. Unfortunately for me, the rain continued for my entire shift (midnight to five am).

When the time came to park the ride for a few hours of shut eye, we crashed in a former gas station lot which had been slightly altered to become a “tourist center” but it was a sad little lot. I couldn’t imagine anyone stopping there during the night or day for information but that was only my opinion. I’ve been wrong before and perhaps I had misjudged the little structure. Within an hour or so, I had “slept” all that I could. There was nothing to do but get travelling again, so we did.

The rain held during the morning and made any decent pictures of the St. Louis skyline and arch impossible. I was disappointed but nothing would come from dwelling on it, so I didn’t. Other than St. Louie, the rest of the state of Missouri was bland (opinion). We continued to push westward, and the Meat Grinder did its job with each passing hour.

Oklahoma was a first for me and also a change in travelling procedure. We got off the beaten path and started to experience the street level. It was cool to see sections or areas of the state where the Native Americans had reservations. We don’t see that really in the Murder Mitten and we passed through several nations, including the Pawnee Nation along the way (The Cherokee Nation, Muscogee Nation, and Choctaw Nation were nearby). At one point we came across a giant river, cloaked in mist and fog. The river was the mighty Arkansas River and it emptied under a bridge into the Keystone Lake. There was an air of sadness on the bridge riding over the water and I could feel it in my bones. I don’t know what type of ghosts were out there in the distance, but most likely they were sad ones.

Southwest Down and Running through the Desert

All my life I’ve been looking south towards Texas and New Mexico, wondering what it was all about. I’ve been around the country at different times but never made it to the lower rim. Growing up, I always heard the catch phrase “everything is bigger in Texas” and I guess I wondered if that was really the case. From the steaks to the land mass, the word was that it was something that a person needed to see in the flesh to appreciate. When we finally hit that stretch of Southwest, the reasons behind the slogans and catch phrases became obvious. Upon entering that northern portion of Texas, the world seemed to spread out in all directions. As we zipped down the highway, the view unfolded forever towards the horizon. I would look left and then right, only to see the land reached the limits of my eyesight in all directions. The sun was posted up in the sky, but I bet, that at night…there was a magnificent view of the stars. There had to be or at least I thought there should be. In the daylight, I cast my gaze down on giant windmills, slowly spinning in the distance. They broke up my long view and I secretly thought they made the landscape look ugly (to an extent).

We have those same damn windmills in the Murder Mitten, mostly up north and western, but nothing like the Texas numbers. Maybe having them is good for gathering or harnessing electricity but I believe that Nicholas Tesla had a better way to get free energy. There isn’t time for that argument here, but I encourage people to read up on some of the strange and revolutionary ideas Tesla had. You never know, it just might change your ideas about energy in this country and the world. Go read about it, get your weight up.

As we continued west on I-40, we passed over the border to New Mexico and needed to stop for gas. Gas was the only thing we really stopped for and was needed for the mission to continue. I welcomed the stops to stretch my legs and take in the scene. Somewhere after Glenrio, we stopped at a place called “Russell’s Truck and Travel Center”. The air was starting to get chilly, as the last of the sun began its final march across the sky. We went inside to take a piss, buy some snacks, and just get out of the car for a bit.

The truck stop/travel center was gigantic, filled with different shops and things to do. I don’t know why, but Subway franchises were present at every stop and this location was no different. After the main priorities were met, I had a few minutes to wander the place and see what I could see. There was odds and ends, including a rather large classic car collection and memorabilia museum. As I wandered around, I thought that there might be some truth to that “everything is bigger in Texas” bit. Eventually it was time to say farewell to the oversized gas station. The road was calling, and the Clowns were coming. It wouldn’t be long before we would be in Arizona, and I looked forward to arriving at our final destination. New Mexico offered much of the same type of vibe as Texas. The night was back up and running, and only the hum of the traffic could be heard against the emptiness of the desert.

Alive on arrival

Our caravan of one, finally broke the Arizona border and brought us into the home stretch. We had been in the car for just over thirty hours, and it was finally coming to an end. The landscape of Arizona was intriguing. There were rising hills and baby mountains in all directions, cactus plants, and lots of gigantic boulders scattered around. The boulders were impossibly large, and I couldn’t help but stare at them. The street signs were many, but only one really mattered and that read “Tucson”. We had just clocked in almost two thousand miles, and now our real work could be done.

Because it was still early, we had nothing else to do except park and wait for the check in time to come. Normally places push this 3pm number, but if you ask real nice, sometimes you can get in at 1pm. We negotiated with the hotel worker and came away with two electronic keys and a room number. The actual room was “ok” but if a person stared too long in any one direction, it was apparent that the best days had slipped away from the hotel (I’ve never really understood what made a motel different from a hotel. Perhaps it had to do with the price maybe or possibly the length of stay and amenities?).

The Countdown has begun

The clock was ticking and before long, the first night of the Insane Clown Posse’s Juggalo Weekend would be upon us. There was excitement in the air and signs of the Juggalos/Juggalettes were everywhere. I could feel the presence of Faygo nearby and everything that came along with that party. We had breakfast at an “all you can eat” buffet type of spot. Although buffets always sound like a good deal, they never seem to deliver what was promised. The eggs looked kind of shaky, the ham could have been confused for burnt fish, and the eggs had their own faults. The only thing I got carried away with was the sausages and bacon. I took a risky chance on some buffet french toast and it wasn’t really what I was hoping for. When we got finished eating, we paid the bill and split. There was nothing left to do except watch the clock tic and toc. We heard a rumor of a large Juggalo party going down at the Red Roof Inn, which was down the street. We left the worn-out buffet and decided to cruise the town a bit before getting serious. The Dark Carnival was coming, and we were ready.

Stay tuned for the second installment of the Insane Clown Posse’s Juggalo Weekend 2022 coverage. The show is about to begin…

Signing Off,

Mike Shepard

ROX-TV Head Writer

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