FRIDAY
So, Labor Day weekend. My Friday evening was spent occupying various apartments in the beautiful Park Shelton. A brief foray onto the roof revealed a tacky, yellow sunroom which led out to a nicely finished patio on the roof complete with furnishings, a few umbrellas, and a great view straight down Woodward toward downtown.
The whole Park Shelton experience brought a twinkle to my eye and a sparkle to my 40 as we stood around in the September breeze and spit off the roof. The evening was not even slightly disrupted by the security guards' snide comments about my friend's clothing choices and a snide remark about
how many dozen people had signed into the same room.
All of this fun and more without even going to a show.
SATURDAY
On Saturday there was a show at the Majestic Theater (I think) with the Terrible Two's and Childbite that I had planned to attend. Unfortunately, I was thwarted when everyone coming with bailed on me. Determined to have a night out I scoured the interwebs for an intriguing somethings going on. Arts, Beats, and Eats happened, but a friend in attendance informed me using the phrase "suck it" that I would best avoid the Pontiac festivities.
On Saturday there was a show at the Majestic Theater (I think) with the Terrible Two's and Childbite that I had planned to attend. Unfortunately, I was thwarted when everyone coming with bailed on me. Determined to have a night out I scoured the interwebs for an intriguing somethings going on. Arts, Beats, and Eats happened, but a friend in attendance informed me using the phrase "suck it" that I would best avoid the Pontiac festivities.
By about 9 I had my course of action plotted out: Tour De'Troit's DJ dancing 2009 finale at the 5E Gallery in Corktown. It was some sort of urban hipster dance party, similar to Funk Night at CAID before all of the suburbanites, over-exposure, and gentrification. "If it starts at 9" I naively thought, "It should be hopping if I turn up at 11ish." This was flawed logic as it was explained to me by a burly Grecian and Tour De'Troit veteran named Paris. Similar to Funk Night the party gets going when all other parties are ending, long after midnight.
Armed with 40's and about $12 my roommate (and blogger for MCB rival Motorcity Rocks) and I set our sites on the fabulous Motorcity Casino & Hotel for as long as our pathetic funds would allow us to piss our money away. The parking was secure, but not so secure that we couldn't stand in the middle of the lot and down beers in the middle of the night. I wear my sunglasses at night and felt like a some kind of gambling junky staggering around the giant main floor of the casino with a cigar in one hand and a small wad of singles in the other. 25 minutes of drunken confusion over the cavalcade of whirling, noisy slots (lines, credits, antes? what the fuck happened to feeding them coins and pulling a lever?) and we were cashing out about $25 in vouchers after about $6 in random spins.
At this point it was approaching 1 AM (I think) and back at the 5E things were finally getting going. The next 2 or 3 hours are a smear of underdressed girls, people whose names I can't recall, and being repeatedly searched by a scary looking bouncer. It was a fun night, if only I had gotten that Asian girl's number...
LABOR DAY
Labor Day eve passed without much incident, namely hanging out with a severely jet-lagged physicist from Germany and her corporate accountant boyfriend, and the girl from Alaska whose been sleeping on my couch. (Check out Lauren Moyer's art opening "Nuntghel'il" this Friday at the BBAC!) We watched Coffee & Cigarettes and it put us to sleep.
Labor Day was host to the Second Annual St. Powerful Allies Field Day at the Knowles/Harrison block of Royal Oak. The event is hosted by residents Anthony Cholag and Tom Conrad. This bizarre team based competition featured labor themed events such as a three legged race, watermelon eating contest, tug-of-war, dodgeball, and which team's mouth had the largest capacity. Team rankings were kept on a giant dry erase board and prizes ran the gamut from candle sticks to empty flour baskets. St. Powerful Allies Field Day turned out to be quite excruciating at times, and the competition was fierce, although no one took it seriously enough to risk spilling a beer or dropping a cigarette.
The annual event was attended by about 3 dozen 20 somethings with lawn chairs and booze, arousing suspicious looks from the police cars who occasionally circled the block. The tomfoolery was also at one point interrupted by a citizen in a maroon SUV who was concerned that everyone was there to cut down some trees.
