Hey y’all,

Friday was a wonderful day of exploration. Coneys, cars and killer techno — A day of firsts.

But let’s start at the very beginning.

“Never let a good story get in the way of the truth…or is it the other way around?”

We met up with Aj O’neil, the amazing coffee man we met on Day 7 at Becharas Brothers, the factory that packages his Detroit Bold Coffee. We took a look inside and saw how it all happens. Very cool.

Then he took us to “the saltiest-speaking coney place in Detroit”: Red Hots, which recently got a makeover from Amanda Freitag and Ty Pennington’s American Diner Revival. There we indulged again in some chili dogs (and felt the repercussions; again).

We also indulged in some awesome conversation with Aj and his Public Relations guy Dustin Hamlin, a young filmmaker from Ohio.

Aj talked a lot about his term cross-trickle economics. This term refers directly to Henry Ford’s $5 a day wage “which he did to keep his workforce, not to benefit the community economy (although that was the result)” (I thought he said “communeconomy” which Dustin thinks has a better ring that cross-trickle). He said that at the time Ford’s economists were flabbergasted that Ford proposed to raise the daily pay to $4.25, which Ford deemed the highest he could pay without losing profit. His economist said “well if you make it that high you might as well make it $5!!” So that’s what he did, revolutionizing the industry and economy in the process. He went on to say that people now do not invest in the community in the same way; instead they work to benefit the rich more, thinking this increases profit “which it does on the short-term,” says Aj “but you profit more in the long run doing what Ford did.”

The most interesting thing was how these two differed. Dustin, as per his role as an artist, does not necessarily pass evaluative judgment on things he films. While Aj, as an activist in his community, does. We were privy to a conversation between the two about Dr. Bob, the leader of a community of squatters in the metro Detroit area who “allows the the party influence to take over” according to Dustin. Dustin was there filming when a church leader came to promise Dr. Bob that he would buy the building to circumvent their impending eviction. Dustin chose to watch and capture the moment as a drugged-out ukulele player blocked the doorway and drove the church leader away, even though he wanted to intervene and help save these people. Aj then lambasted Dr. Bob, saying that the community he runs is a blight on Detroit’s community.

I think it speaks to Aj’s character that he employs someone with such different ideals than he does. It was also very intelligent to bring him along: we saw that Aj chooses to surround himself with artists.

It’s also becoming clear that people really want us here.

Aj has spent hours taking around to interesting places around the community:

An urban farm that takes up about three lots.

The first Ford building called the Ford Piquette Plant (we sat in an original Model T).

But the most interesting stop was a warehouse an industrial district in Highland Park very near Aj’s coffee factory belonging to Robert Onnz (the guy who introduced us to Aj in the first place) but this was the first time we’d met in person. Robert let us into the complex through a large gate topped with barbed wire, then led us into a cleaned-up factory with state-of-the-art refrigerator and furniture and huge murals hanging on the walls (the leftovers from an art showing). Classical music played loudly as the New Zealander transplant led us through his $40,000 investment ($15,000 + $25,000 in back taxes).

Robert’s comment on the city was very provocative: “Detroit could end up being the next Berlin of America. There is a lot going on in all the arts, so I’d say yeah, move here.”

Aj said something even more provocative, though. It may have been in passing, but I (Rory) zeroed in on it: “I’ve lived here all my life, for crying out loud; I’ve been waiting for you guys a long time.”

This aligns with conversations we’ve had with Kirk. One night, I said “we’re not sold on Detroit yet.” His brow became clouded and his tone trembled as he asked “why not?” I explained that, while Detroit may excite and inspire us we need to be sure we can sell tickets. He cited the Fisher Theater, a commercial venture that brings touring Broadway shows to the area. I explained this is not our business model and that 60% of most theaters’ bills are paid with donations. He left the conversation slightly troubled still and Ryan to the rescue, doing his “hey, I’m really calm and sympathetic to everyone” thing; it’s kind of sickening how well it smooths things over.

Even still, Kirk asks almost nightly “are you two sold on Detroit yet?” (most recently about an hour ago).

This is very telling: people want us here, likely to serve their own community-minded agendas. Of course, we want to help. Of course, we’re very interested in making the world a better place.

But, we have to make a living. Not only that, but we have to be sure that this is the place that inspires us most as well as offers the best opportunities. We have to ask “where can we find the best situation?”

Where do the stars most align?

We have to ask those questions as we look into the eyes of Detroiters who are telling us, “we need the arts, please move here”. We have found that we really like and connect with the community, one that we may be able .

We must attend to our needs before we’re able to provide others’.

“You stand here you’ll meet everybody”

We then made our way downtown for a gallery opening “Printed Matters” at The Library Street Collective showcasing art by Shepard Fairey, one of the most popular contemporary street artists (he made the Obama Hope posters during the 2008 election) and creator of the Obey brand.

The gallery opening coincided with the completion of his largest mural to date (184ft X 60ft) on the side of the Quicken Loans building) — commissioned by Dan Gilbert? You bet!

The gallery was epic. The cheapest item was $2,000, the most expensive piece was $10,000. Most of the pieces were politically conscious: one piece, illustrated like a 1950’s ad, showed a couple tanning on a beach in the foreground and oil rigs in the background with a caption saying “ENJOY PARADISE. Until the tide rises”. Another said “Decoding disinformation since 1989”. We think that the people at the door were directing us away from the Shepard whenever we asked.

So, sadly, we didn’t meet him. 😦

But we did meet several pretty interesting people.

I (Rory) ran into a fashion designer named Arzal Smith, who goes back and forth between Detroit and New York City every ten days or so.

As I spoke to him, an older gentleman walked up and said hi. Well, this man, Paul Balog who owns a props warehouse around the corner from the gallery. He has apparently supplied props for plays and films, small time and big time for the last couple decades. He said to come by whenever we had a chance.

Up walked a lady named Kim. I didn’t get her occupation, but when I asked “Should a young artist move to Detroit?” she said “if you have to ask me, then no. The people who stay in or move to Detroit usually feel it in here” and she indicated to my heart. “We haven’t stayed here because it’s pretty, we’ve stayed here because we’re hardcore Detroiters and we’ve made it work. I don’t mean to be offensive — you may feel it by the time you walk down the alley.”

At that point Arzal said “you stand here long enough you’ll run into everybody.”

He was right: I got several other great contacts to check out, including someone who said “I’ll find you a place” after hearing what kind of storefront we’re looking for.

Every day begets five or more new things to check out and ten or more new people to meet. It’s pretty great. A month is not enough time to see everything!





“I have no way of giving you a receipt, honey”

We decided to check out one of the opening night shows for the Movement Festival: an artist named DBX Live was playing at the Populex (upstairs from Sergeant Pepperoni’s).

We got there, paid an older lady the cover fee and walked into bass-filled, ground-shakingly loud music. You could feel the vibrations through your shoes; the door to the bathroom shook.

What struck us was the relaxed nature of everyone there: no moshing, very little yelling, no bouncers watching over your shoulder — they weren’t necessary. It was the chillest techno show I’d ever been to…maybe that had to do with the lack of excitement in the music, but still.

This has been another Goodlow Homes broadcast featuring R&R. Thanks for tuning in.

Goodnight and good luck.

Much love,

R&R

😉