Adventure #99: Jackson, MI

The big problem with Superman as a character is that he's basically perfect. The only way to create any dramatic tension whatsoever is to incapacitate him in some way; hence the proliferation of every possible kind of Kryptonite magically showing up all the time on Earth, despite the general improbability of any showing up here due to the size of the universe, let alone so many chunks. I like a fair fight. Maybe that's why I'm such a sucker for those places where the constant battle between humanity and nature actually feels matched. Abandoned buildings are the manifestation of nature coming up from behind. Bridges and tunnels those places where we've conquered nature but only just barely. One massive storm and nature could still win this one. So after a few days in the ruins of former industrial centers, I needed a little nature. This is Mario and a bridge (not pictured: Birdo.)

About 20 minutes south of Flint, maybe an hour east of Jackson, I came across a state park. Trees. Lakes. Hiking. This would probably be my last chance to experience nature until the spring (or at least until I tour the South again...). This is Mario taking only pictures, leaving only footprints, and the discarded turtle shells of a million Koopas (truly, Mario is history's greatest monster.)

It was overcast as all hell, and a little chilly (still no jacket), but the 2 hour hike around the lake did my soul (and probably lungs) good. I sat for a minute on the edge of the lake reading William Gibson; maybe the least pastoral possible reading choice, but whatever; books don't just grow on trees. The paper does. But. Then industry happens. Anyway. By the time I got to Bird Alley, it was dark. Anthony and I sat around watching terrible 80's movies on VHS while we waited for the other acts to show up. Foragers for the discarded remains of our own culture. Are we America's termites or it's vultures? This is Mario and the last display of breathtaking natural beauty for a little while.

This is a song I wrote one time. You should download it and share with your friends.

Adventure #98: Detroit, MI

In the 2 months since I last visited Detroit, a book has started to take shape in my brain. A collection of interviews, old articles, photos, song lyrics, and letters documenting the stories from the neighborhoods that are vanishing. Primary sources presented with little commentary. Detroit is in a period of change. What it's changing into is up to debate, but as the warehouses and factories and houses continue to be razed one by one, the history of it's neighborhoods threaten to be buried over in grass themselves. This is Mario posing for a very sad, yet optimistic postcard.

I headed out from Justin's a little later than I'd hoped. Drinking till 4 am will do that to you. Who knew? I went down to the neighborhood on the east side that I'd explored last time. 2 short months had already taken their toll. One of the houses I'd come across—an experiment in off-the-grid sustainable living it seemed—had it's garden overgrown; it's rain collection cisterns gone. Was this a failed experiment or merely preparation for the winter? This is Mario and the ravages of time and neglect.

The air felt like winter had come early as I wandered around. A woman came up to me. “I'm 5 months pregnant, and just need to get something to eat. Do you have a dollar?” “Sure,” I said. “Can I interview you in exchange for 5?” We talked for a few minutes. I realized that if this is really for a book, I'm going to need legal releases and all that stuff. But I was utterly unprepared for the look of gratitude at being asked to tell her story. As she talked, her face lit up. She was talking about her friends and relatives that had died in fires—started by Detroit police, she said—but she was beaming. I'm realizing I have a lot of prep work to do to make this book happen, but I'm also realizing that it might be more necessary for the interview subjects than it is for me. It's going to be a huge undertaking, and probably will take a year or more, but it's something that I think I have to do. This is Mario and the future of dentistry.

Around 5:30 the sun was starting to set, and it was getting a little too cold to wander around without a jacket. I still don't have a jacket. Don't judge me. As I got in my car to head up to Saginaw, I got a text from Alex. “You still in the D?” I turned around and headed over her house for tea and catching up. “Detroit is the Wild West,” she said. “Anything is possible.” She had just moved back home a few weeks ago from Brooklyn and is determined to be a part of the rebirth of Detroit. Before I hit the road, she loaded me up with a bounty of home made kettle corn and Vernor's ginger ale, which is apparently the Moxie of Detroit. This is Mario feasting on the best Detroit has to offer (other than Alex's hot sauce, of course.)

This is a song I wrote one time. You should download it and share it with your friends.

Adventure #97: Wyandotte, MI

A few years ago I called Rosy from the road. In a manifestation of her permanent state of exasperation with me, she declared “I just don't know how to talk to you when you're on tour. It's always either the best night of your life or the worst and I don't know how to talk to you.” And I had no response, because it's true. Driving 6 hours, singing your heart out for an hour, (not to mention the hours of booking, planning, and promoting that go into every single show) and then being greeted with stunning indifference is devastating. But then the opposite-doing all that and seeing people sing along with your songs; connecting on a very real and personal level-there is nothing better. Those are the nights like last night in Wyandotte that remind you why you do this at all. This is Mario doing this at all.

As I stepped up to the mic, The Rockery was suddenly swarmed with a gaggle of ska kids (specifically of the CBJ variety) and I couldn't have been happier. It's funny how after only playing one show together this summer, I've come to consider Mike and Mark and the gang good friends. But this is a world that breeds fast friendships and faster rivalries, I suppose. Then an hour talking with Marc Blur about the different varieties of anarchism and revolutionary politics, interspersed with memories of what Detroit used to be. Then what seemed like an hour, but turned out to be 3 talking art and sincerity with Justin, the manager of the Rockery, and Jon-Mikal of The Idiot Kids. It was a conversation that I think all three of us needed pretty badly. This is Mario talking realness with noted 80's video game icon, E.T.

Touring can be a lot of things to a lot of people. I guess to most it's a way to become successful. But as I continue to get older and continually redefine “success,” the pretensions of being a famous musician have faded away leaving only the joy of being able to share my art with people who wouldn't have otherwise heard it, excitement for adventure, and gratitude for the unexpected and unexpectedly meaningful conversations at 4 AM; long after the bar has closed. As long as I can continue to do that, I will continue to be the most successful damn musician on the planet. This is Mario defining success by having all the pickles in the world!

This is Jawbreaker's tour song because it sums up all the contradictions about as well as anything.

Adventure #96: Rochester, NY

About 30 minutes out of Brooklyn I started going through my mental checklist. Guitars? Check. Newly pressed copies of A Life In Transit? Check. A vintage suitcase full of anti-capitalist zines? Check. Jacket? Uh. Well it's been unseasonably warm. I'll be OK without a jacket. Sleeping bag? Check. Multiple kinds of pickles? Check. Pen Pen? Oh crap. Maybe I should turn around. The jacket was one thing. But going on tour without my travel penguin? We're doomed. But never one to be discouraged by the slings and arrows of outrageous forgetfulness, I remembered that among the many totems of my perpetual travel is a tiny stuffed Mario. I don't remember where he came from. Only that he's been in my backpack at least since January 2008. This is Mario being selected for this journey.

I got to the Meddlesome Lab about an hour after Seth asked me to show up, but the opening act hadn't gotten there yet either, so everything was fine. We are not responsible adults. None of us. In fitting with the game of “One Degree of Greg McKillop” that is my life, Maya, who was doing merch for Wood Spider plays in Speaker for the Dead. Because obviously. It would honestly be weirder if there wasn't someone at the show who didn't play in Speaker. This is Mario and a Gnome who may or may not play in Speaker for the Dead.

The show was a pretty great start to this final leg of my tour. I've been coming to Rochester periodically because there's been this legend of the Great Rochester House Shows. I've never actually experienced one. Usually it's been Mediocre But Well-Intentioned Bug Jar Shows. Seth kept apologizing “usually there's more like 50 people at these things...” I don't know where you'd fit them. Everyone fit that rare spot in the Venn Diagram of both being great musicians and great people, and the reality is as I begin this final stretch of shows before I cross the boundary of Don't Trust Anyone Over 30, it was incredibly encouraging to perform with artists older than me who are still touring, still playing and organizing DIY shows, still staying true to their ideals. Maybe growing up punk is possible. And then, immediately after performing, I got the text from my dad: my sister went into labor, and I have a new niece. Life can be pretty great sometimes. This is Mario with teeth.

This is the theme music to Mario 2. It's 10 hours long and seemed like the appropriate choice.