Summit 2012, Part 1

Bad, bad men.

Asked about my upcoming trip to the Twin Cities, I said I was going to a semi-annual blues-music festival featuring musicians inspired by the sounds of the juke joints of the North Mississippi hill country.

The response was uniform: “And you’re going where for this?”

Rex picked me up at the airport, set me on his shoulder and stomped across town.

There’s always been a certain disparity there, sure, but I thought this year’s event – three days at a BBQ shack!* – might put at least some of that to rest. Instead, it offered a moment that probably defines the difference between the scenes.

Chris rolled out the red carpet for Rex.

We were taking a break from the music with some plates of food on the outdoor patio when the door to the indoor stage banged open and eight or ten male festivalgoers spilled out, as if exiting a space invaded by angry hornets.
“What’s happening?” someone on the porch asked.

“They’re…dancing in there!”

*It's a pretty swanky BBQ shack.

Also from Detroit: the Rue Moor Counts (photo by Rex)