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The lack of boondocking love in Dallas didn’t hurt our feelings too badly; we had planned to head out of town before too long anyway. And we did just that, hooking up the AEV and heading south to Austin. Though it’s a short-ish hop–only 195 miles or so–the cultural landscape undergoes a light-year’s worth of change. Where Dallas is very Texan Big Business, Austin leans more toward the cultural-mecca end of the spectrum. The money in Austin isn’t as big (though it’s definitely there: regular spotting of Ferraris and Lamborghinis on the road attest to this), and the focus is on entertainment and lifestyle rather than being the biggest and brightest.
Austin’s unique for its social makeup, in which seasoned hippies rub elbows with college-age hipsters, new-money industrialists, hardworking laborers and an army of musicians. Oh, yes, Nashville calls itself the Music City, but Austin’s got a great deal more to interest us tune-wise, because its music scene’s a lot more diverse. We arrived in town just in time for the annual South by Southwest music festival, which we’ll talk about later.
While you’re downtown getting a feel for the college-y Sixth Street bar district, or its more mature counterpart over on Fourth, be sure to arrive before dusk to check out the bats. The South Congress bridge, over what looks like a river but is actually called Lady Bird Lake or Town Lake, depending on which end of it you’re at, is the summer home of the largest urban colony of Mexican freetailed bats in North America. Over 1.5 million of these tiny midnight fliers roost under the bridge, and at sunset they head out to take care of business. The daily exodus is something to see, as the masses of bats take to the air in a steady flow lasting forty minutes or more. Don’t be afraid; a large crowd gathers nightly to see them take off, and the bats don’t pose any threat to humans. These little guys eat insects–up to 10,000 to 20,000 pounds a night, which helps to keep the mosquito population down–and aren’t interested in getting tangled in your hair.
This diverse town also offers many places to eat, of course. It would take years to visit them all, but we can recommend Banzai and Ichiban for sushi and excellent Japanese fare, the tree-themed Woodland for a fantastic breakfast or elegant supper, Curra’s Grill for outstanding Tex-Mex and local favorite Threadgill’s for homestyle American cuisine. If you want it, you can probably find it. Looking for Thai? Try Thai Passion, downtown. How about Romanian? Austin’s got you covered; head up to the tiny, family-owned Drakula. Austin’s also home to the Alamo Drafthouse, a premier dinner-and-a-movie joint.
It seems as though even the “regular” businesses in Austin are somehow cooler. Why bother with Blockbuster when you’ve got I Luv Video, whose shelves are stocked with just about every obscure and cult DVD you could ask for? Where most video stores are hard-pressed to offer a full selection of anything but the newest releases, I Luv Video has sections devoted to specific directors’ entire catalogs. There’s a row containing nothing but classic silent films. The knowledgeable staff is also well-versed in cinematic trivia, and stickers with commentary on the films at hand are common throughout the store. Thumbnail reviews by the staff are also found at Book People. This massive independent bookstore is a great place for browsing.
Speaking of browsing, the South Congress Street antique shopping district is also worth a weekend walk. You’re guaranteed to find something you didn’t know you needed at Uncommon Objects, to see an awesome rat rod or a flotilla of Vespa scooters parked or on the road, and don’t forget to hit the carnival goodness that is the Big Top candy shop.
RV camping is a bit spendy in downtown Austin (unless you’re coming from California). The Pecan Grove RV park is a quaint, retro-style park that’s literally right in the heart of downtown, within walking or biking distance to most of the stuff we just talked about as well as the lovely Zilker Park and Barton Creek Springs. We stayed at Pecan Grove for a few days, then moved farther out of town to save money. If you’re willing to trek ten or fifteen miles out of town, the prices are more reasonable. We pulled into the Highway 71 RV Park expecting to stay for a week or two, and wound up settling in for quite a while. Highway 71 has a decent mix of vacationers and long-term residents, extremely clean facilities, free wi-fi and a friendly staff. If you stay near the man-made pond, the resident ducks will come to your door begging for handouts and heedless of the fact that bread isn’t particularly good for them (we gave them cat food).
More on Austin shortly…
The Incorrigible spent a lot of its stay in northern Texas at Fun Time RV or Camping World in Denton, having new stuff installed. Home improvement is fun, after all!
Most of the fixes were in the name of making our rolling home more livable, of course. Up front, we had noticed a water leak in the ceiling that we traced to the seal on the front rooftop AC unit. Repairing it is simple enough; you just lift up the 75-100 pound air conditioner, put a new seal in, and drop it back into place. Riiiight. We decided that if we had to be removing the AC unit anyway, we might as well replace it. The fifteen year-old air conditioner was nearing the end of its life in any case, and as we’re hoping to improve the Incorrigible’s energy efficiency over a more energy-friendly newer air conditioner is a step in the right direction.
We chose a Carrier AirV heat pump. Heat pumps are handy, as they combine heating and cooling capability into a single unit. In cool weather (60 to 40 degrees F) the heat pump blows enough warm air that our furnace doesn’t have to kick on at all, thereby saving our LP. The installation went without a hitch, and we’ve noticed a drop in our electric bill since we started using the Carrier as well.
While the folks at Fun Time RV were working on the roof, we had them remove the flap-style plastic front roof vent and replace it with a MaxxFan.
Since we already have one ceiling vent fan, a second one will make air circulation much more efficient–one blows in, the other blows out, and the process keeps things from getting too stale inside. It’ll help keep the Incorrigible cool on hot spring days without running the air conditioning, too. This cool (no pun intended) device combines the fan and rain cover into a single unit. The fan is located behind the vent, and the whole unit folds flat. Side protection and the reverse-slant vent mean that the MaxxFan can be left open in the rain without fear of water blowing inside and it can be left open or closed when driving unlike some flimsy vents which will break if left open on the highway.
Slickest of all, the MaxxFan is power-operated. Instead of turning a manual crank, all we need to do is press a button and the MaxxFan rises quickly open, the fan spinning up automatically. Yes, we’ve been playing with it constantly. An infrared remote control unit means we don’t even have to get up to turn it on or off.
Our first few days with the MaxxFan were interesting. The unit worked perfectly…but perhaps a little bit too well. At unexpected times, when turned off, the MaxxFan would suddenly open itself, or turn the fan on. A telltale beep told us that the unit was receiving a signal from the remote, even though our remote had not been activated. We guessed that the MaxxFan was picking up stray signals, and called MaxxAir for guidance. They confirmed that something was indeed sending it a stray signal, and suggested we put a piece of electrical tape over the sensor. This stopped it from opening at will, but rendered the remote useless, of course. The MaxxFan representative said he’d call us back in a few days with more guidance, but that was over a month ago now, so we may be giving him another ring soon…
We also upgraded our water filtration. The Everpure water filtration system put a stop to our under-sink leaks once and for all. Not only does this large-canister microfiltration system strain the nasty stuff out of our water with a filter that can last up to a year depending on water condition, but it allowed us to bypass the perennially-leaking joint under the sink that was going to be a complete bastard to replace.
Last but not least, the Incorrigible got a new set of shoes. We bid farewell to the sad, bulging, dry-rotted rubber that was on the coach when we bought it and installed a set of new Goodyear RV tires. Up front, we chose Goodyear’s Unisteel G949 RS tire. The GS949 features an easy-rolling tread pattern that’s designed to evacuate water and prevent hydroplaning. “Penetration protectors” in the tread reduce the danger of punctures and unexpected flat tires. The four G933 tires we installed at the rear have a very aggressive tread with squared-off, reinforced shoulders. At a glance, they look like mud tires. The Incorrigible, like many older RVs, lacks traction control, and we’ve come close to getting stuck on a couple of slick RV park dirt roads. We’re hoping that the heavily lugged tread of the G933s will boost our traction without negatively affecting our fuel economy.
We’re not done with this rig by a long shot, of course. Next steps: fix the window leaks, find some hubcaps for those greasy-ass wheels, and perhaps we’ll start on another round of interior-decoration upgrades, as well.
We returned from Chicago to find that the Incorrigible’s house batteries were dead. The refrigerator had defrosted, probably a day or so into our trip, so the leftovers and perishables had to be tossed. This was disappointing, as we lost a pork roast and some delicious-looking steaks that we’d frozen for a rainy day.
 This image has nothing to do with this post, it's just cute. Guess who got which? What was more frustrating was that we couldn’t seem to get the batteries re-charged. Things were all right as long as the generator was running, but once it was shut down, the batteries drained again. This is where we’re glad for the Incorrigible’s redundant electrical systems. There are three batteries; one for the engine, and two that power the house lights and other ancillaries. In the event that the engine battery goes dead, there’s a switch that’ll allow the house batteries to jump-start the engine. Conversely, if the house batteries die, starting the engine will provide enough juice to fire up the generator, which then charges the house batteries. So we weren’t stranded or left without power at any point, merely confused. I checked the batteries, which seemed to be in good condition and not in need of water. Curious…
The mystery was solved later in the day; somehow, the lights in the RV’s understorage bays got turned on just before we left. The switch is located on a pedestal next to the exit door, so it’s not unthinkable that one of us might’ve bumped it on the way out. With the lights underneath burning, it was only a matter of time before the batteries died. Once the lights were turned off, all was well again.
We took some time in Dallas to perform necessary upgrades to the Incorrigible, as well. We installed new tires, replaced the front air conditioner and seal, installed a new water filtration system and upgraded an air vent. If you want the technical details on those things, they’ll be in an upcoming post shortly, so we can keep this one short-ish.
While in Chicago, we decided to check out the club known as Neo. We’ve had plenty of friends in Chicago recommend it as the goth-industrially place to go in town, and haven’t ever had the opportunity to drop in until now.
 Neo did not look like this when we were there. The place looks promising, with a Sunday night flyer promising “Sanctuary,” a night of electro, synthpop and industrial. It’s another veteran club, located down a delightfully foreboding alley. Inside, Neo is compact, with a flowing, multi-tiered layout that could’ve been carved out by monstrous ants. The dance floor’s a bit uneven, and the mirror that lines one side of it is faded, but the sound system is good and the bar staff is friendly. The crowd couldn’t be called that–there were only five or six other patrons at eleven-thirty, but then it was a very chilly February evening in Chicago, so we couldn’t blame folks for staying home. Even empty, Neo feels comfortable, like an oasis from the real world, and that’s the right way to go.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the music on the night we were there. In spite of the “Sanctuary” flyer, the DJ seemed content to spin Gang of Four, Modest Mouse and Franz Ferdinand tunes. When I visited the DJ booth to ask for something stompy, I got a disinterested, negative response, and then he grudgingly spun some ohGr for us, before going back to the indie-pop. Quite disappointing. Fortunately, there’s no cover charge on Sunday nights, so we didn’t have to feel badly about leaving after about an hour. Maybe we’ll give Neo another chance the next time we’re in town…or maybe not.
Another auto show, another side trip. We found a safe place to park the Incorrigible for the week, found Mushroom a safe place to stay, and headed north in the Jeep. Past trips to Chicago have been rush-in, rush-out affairs for me; this year we took the opportunity to spend a bit of extra time in town.
It seemed like the city was even welcoming the extra attention, thanks to an unseasonably warm couple of days that made wandering around some of Chicago’s sights much more pleasant than a typical February can be expected to. While the sun was shining, we took the opportunity to visit our friend Amanda and take in some of the sights. There’s a lot to do in Chicago, much much more than one could hope to accomplish in just a few days, so we tried to split our visit between touristy stuff and our usual wanderings.
First on the list was the Field Museum. This massive repository of natural history is all about natural history, archaeology and science. Founded in 1893 to house the collection of artifacts from the World’s Columbian Exposition, the Field Museum now has over twenty million specimens and display items, gathered from all around the world. It’s an old-school museum, with room after room of stuffed exotic animals and archaeological relics that probably wouldn’t be considered politically or ecologically correct if they were collected today. On the other hand, the patience and skill required to stuff and mount a hummingbird or a thumbnail-sized frog is worth some recognition, as well. The Field Museum’s notable exhibits include “Sue,” the world’s best-preserved and most complete Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton; cultural displays from all around the world; and educational environmental displays like “Evolving World” and a fascinating look at the microscopic world underground. Oh, and there are also mounted man-eating lions, the same creatures that inspired “The Ghost and the Darkness,” a movie that we had no idea featured man-eating lions (we were too young when it came out!). Temporary exhibits broaden the museum’s scope even further. The Field Museum is also a microcosm of the city in at least one symbolic way: there’s much more at the Field Museum than you can hope to get through in a single day. If museums are your thing, the world-renowned Adler Planetarium and John G. Shedd Aquarium are all within a mile of the Field Museum as well. Admission’s a little steep at $23 for non-resident adults, but Target sponsors a free day at the Field Museum on the second Monday of every month.
 We quickly decided that, while fascinating, the nature displays at the Field Museum constituted far more dead animals than we were in the mood to process, so we went to the Lincoln Park Zoo to check out some live ones instead. Nestled right in the heart of downtown, the Lincoln Park Zoo’s a unique experience, juxtaposing exotic animals with Chicago’s skyline. It’s hard to say what the lions think of the skyscrapers looming overhead and the traffic rushing past on Lake Shore Drive, but it certainly makes for a unique zoo experience. In addition to the animals, the free zoo has a children’s train ride and a hand-crafted carousel. The zoo’s indoor animal habitats, especially the tropical bird and Africa habitats, make it worth the trip. Admission to the Lincoln Park Zoo is free, but parking is typically Chicago-expensive.
Of course, we can only do so many touristy things before we decide to go looking for local flavor instead. We found some at the Brown Elephant, a three-store thrift chain spread through Lakeview, Andersonville and Oak Park (all neighborhoods within Chicago) and benefits the Howard Brown Health Center. The Brown Elephant’s stock in trade is cool castoff clothes and hip home furnishings for resale, and the Lakeview and Andersonville locations we visited are pretty fun to look at, as well. Our trips netted us some seriously unique clothes, including a wicked steampunky trenchcoat that looks like it came from Red China via Jules Verne.
 Photo taken from yelp.com Another don’t-miss is Bookman’s Corner, at the corner of Clark and Wellington in Lakeview. This is one of the coolest used bookstores in the nation, and I don’t just say that because it’s owned and operated by a Detroit ex-pat. Bookman’s is old-school, with books piled and stacked haphazardly (yet still organized) in narrow aisles, and the owner seems more interested in finding new homes for his constantly rotating stock than in making a lot of money. Books that have been on the shelves for too long are frequently half-price, and most sell for less than $5. When I was there last, he noticed that one of the books I had picked out had some minor water damage, and just let me have it for free! Rare and out-of-print books on the cheap with a layout that demands slow, patient browsing make it a top-class used bookstore.
Since Amanda’s a fantastic cook, we didn’t see the need to go out to eat. A trip to Treasure Island sufficed instead. Billed as America’s “most European grocery store,” Treasure Island’s a seven-store local chain that specializes in tasty European imports and organic fare. We visited the newest store, near President Obama’s old stomping grounds in Hyde Park. “TI” provided the raw materials for Amanda to set us up with scones, French toast, and a stunning meal of homemade popcorn chicken with dipping sauce and sweet potato fries. This proved to be much better fare than we’d get anywhere else in the city, either at the auto show or at Ed Debevic’s which was our last stop on the way out of town.
 Ed Debevic’s is hard to describe. It’s got all the trappings of a greasy-spoon diner, but the paper hats and ill-tempered waitstaff are all an affectation. Retro-themed singing and dancing on the bar are common, and the place features a cheerfully manufactured “eat and get out” Fifties folksy vibe that doesn’t quite offset the high prices on the menu. If your tastes run to exotic and/or healthy fare, Ed’s is not your place. The fare is well-cooked and straight out of the American culinary playbook, with burgers, sandwiches and monstrous hot dogs. But in truth most of the fun comes from having a waiter like “Biscuits” (center, above, rocking out to “Car Wash”), who served us and pretended to hate every minute of it.
Where in many cities, this would’ve been the extent of the things worth seeing, for Chicago we’ve barely scratched the surface. Alas, time was not our friend and we had to get back to the Incorrigible. One day we’ll bring our RV with us, and stay a while.
A funny thing often happens when we show up to visit people. Frequently, they’ll ask if we want to stay with them, to come on inside and “sleep in a real bed,” as it’s been put more than once. We’re always flattered by the hospitality and glad they’re willing to open their homes to us, of course, but there’s also an amusing misconception at work that the Incorrigible somehow lacks the comforts of a fixed (or “sticks and bricks,” as some fulltime RVers will derisively call them) home.
So, friends, don’t feel offended if we choose to stay in the RV instead of a guest bed. We’re not roughing it out in the moho; we have a very nice bedroom. The Incorrigible’s got a king-size bed with a memory-foam mattress topper. It’s pretty friggin’ comfortable. If it’s chilly, we’ve also got an electric blanket, two down comforters, and a cat who loves to sleep with us. If the temperature really drops, there’s a space heater, a furnace and our brand-new Carrier heat pump. As long as the mercury stays over forty degrees or so, we are as snug as the proverbial bugs in rugs. If it gets colder, we might ask to borrow some electricity to keep the space heater running overnight, but that’s about it.
The Incorrigible has a full kitchen and living space. It’s our house. Another full-time RV’er we talked to put it best when discussing the subject: “Don’t think of us as guests. Think of us as temporary neighbors!” Moving from the RV to a guest bedroom, no matter how comfortable, requires us to pack an overnight bag and requires our hosts to make a bed and go out of their way for us. It’s so much easier to just walk back “next door” when it’s time to turn in!
That said, the RV does lack two luxuries: a bathtub and a washer/dryer. Lexie and I, like other fulltime RV people, always appreciate the chance to take advantage of both when visiting friends. (Well, okay, perhaps the bathtub is just a “me” thing.)
 Credit: the churchpictures.com Dallas’ Lizard Lounge hosts a couple of noisy-stuff nights a week, under the name The Church. On Thursdays and Sundays, the DJs spin neo-gothic, industrial and electro (that’s according to The Church’s website) tunes in one of the cooler club environments I’ve experienced.
The Lizard Lounge isn’t a goth club every night of the week, but the atmosphere and building lend themselves well to the task. The building dates to 1899 and is registered in the Texas Haunted Building Registry, so that’s a good start. Head through the front door and you’ve got a choice of turning left, right or going straight, up a curved staircase. To the left, you’ll find the main bar and a good-sized, multi-level dance floor that includes a platform with a stripper pole. A seating area curves around the front of the dance floor with a walkway in between, providing good people-watching space. The sound system is fantastic, loud enough to make your chest hurt but clean enough to keep the music clear and distortion-free. The lighting and other décor are equally well put together. Random trivia: the video for Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock & Roll” was filmed in this building.
On the other side (that is, if you turn to the right after entering) you’ll find a more conventional dance floor and a secondary bar, as well as the doors to an outdoor patio. There’s smoking allowed inside the bar as well (though that may reportedly change soon depending on Texas law) but when the weather permits the fresh air is nice. The two downstairs dance floors connect at the rear in a small maze of hallways and seating areas.
Done exploring yet? Nope. Upstairs there are wingback chairs lining the balcony, the better for people-watching and socializing, and yet another small bar. Plenty of places to get your drink on in the Church.
The Church’s main dance floor is the most fun, and it’s where the club’s carnival atmosphere is most noticeable. The multi-tiered space is shallower than most dance floors, which gives it a very stagelike feeling. There’s no fading into the background here; if you’re dancing, the people watching can see you. Rather than being intimidating, however, the Church’s dance floor is inviting. Even if you don’t know what you’re doing, the friendly regulars would be happy to see you take a turn on the pole, or up on the uppermost stage level. The social hierarchy isn’t oppressive, unless of course you’re a complete jerk in which case the security staff will politely ask you to leave. Otherwise, the Church wants you to come in, have a drink or two, meet someone, and go strut your stuff on the dance floor when you’re ready.
In my six or eight trips to the Church, the music has gone one of two ways. Of course, I’m happiest when it leans toward the noisy end of the spectrum, with Rob Zombie, Skinny Puppy, Combichrist and VNV Nation well represented. DJ Joe Virus is creative, too, putting together excellent “themed” sets: the “R. Lee Ermey” and “nasty girl” groupings are especially cool, as is the Homestar Runner/Rammstein mashup that’s only available at the Church, to the best of my knowledge. On other nights, the Church’s main floor is a retro-New Wave paradise, all a-swirl with Depeche Mode, Dead or Alive, Sisters of Mercy and Shriekback. If New Wave is your thing, the Church’s smaller dance floor is perpetually stuck in the Day-Glo Eighties. This lends itself well to long club nights; bored of one kind of noise? You can go over and relax to another.
Of the clubs I’ve been to, the Church comes the closest to creating that “home” feeling that I get back in Detroit, at City Club. We don’t pretend to have an objective club-ranking system, but to date I will call the Church my second-favorite dancin’ place, and that’s high praise indeed.
Dallas proved to be a bit difficult. As we only planned to spend about ten days there, we decided to try and do the time without hookups, as we did in Savannah. It’s a big town, with lots of Wal-Marts and other twenty-four hour parking lots, after all.
This did not go as smoothly as we’d hoped. The first few nights were fine; the Incorrigible was under the knife at Camping World, having our new Everpure water filtration system installed, and the folks at the Denton, TX, store were happy to let us camp out in their lot for a couple of days, even loaning us an electrical hookup one night when the temperatures got chilly. We have a new set of tires on order, and plan to return to Denton to have them installed when the time comes.
After that, however, it got a bit rocky. Close to downtown Dallas, the Wal-Marts we found proved to be very RV-unfriendly, and we were kicked out of the lot after parking for only three hours in the middle of the day (even though we made a point of patronizing the store to stock up on groceries). “NO OVERNIGHT PARKING” signs barred the entrance to every lot we checked out as night fell, and we eventually wound up driving the Incorrigible to the Lizard Lounge, where we danced the night away and the management was kind enough to let us stick around in their parking lot until the next morning. It was definitely the shortest drive home after clubbing we’ve ever had!
The next day, we went in search of a roosting spot, and had to venture all the way to Irving before we found a friendly Wal-Mart. The next night found us back out in Denton, where we risked stopping in the Golden Triangle Mall’s lot. Mall lots are generally an iffy proposition, but as night fell, the mall closed, and nobody harassed us, we figured we might be okay for the night.
Wrong! The security guard woke us up at one in the morning and told us we had to move. Why he didn’t knock on the door at ten, when it was clear that we planned to stay the night, I have no idea. I was polite, and got the Incorrigible out of there in less than five minutes. When we’re boondocking in a parking lot, I always keep the motorhome and Jeep ready to leave at a moment’s notice; we don’t set up the computer table inside, use the leveling jacks, or take the Jeep out of neutral. It was a five minute drive to the Denton Wal-Mart, and we overnighted there.
It was all too much trouble in the end, and we decided to rent a hook up at one of the inexpensive RV slots at the Lewisville Lake Park. We hadn’t budgeted for a nightly hookup, but the $16 overnight fee wasn’t much more than it would’ve cost to dump our waste tanks anyway (which also needed to be done) and we wanted to get at least one night’s sleep without having to keep an ear open for security guards. It was a good decision; the park allowed us to host some local friends for a dinner of venison (remember our Alabama adventure?) and an extremely tasty brown rice recipe that Lexie makes.
Out in Grand Prairie, halfway between Dallas and Fort Worth, there’s a massive outdoor flea market called Trader’s Village. Outdoor flea markets are popular just about anywhere that it doesn’t snow regularly, and there’s always interesting stuff to be found. Trader’s Village is one of the biggest we’ve seen, however.
With a permanent location in what appears to have once been a self-storage facility, the vendors had just about everything: furniture, car parts, musical instruments, books, CDs, antiques, sugar gliders, four wheelers, kitchenware and clothing. A carnival-like atmosphere is provided by the amount of walkaround food that’s available: while Lexie looked at rugs, I munched on an ear of roasted corn and a roast turkey leg.
While in town, we also attended the “Underground” art show put on by ArtLoveMagic. Featuring local artists, the show was a dizzying blur of mixed-media presentations, music, poetry, photography and socialization, and the only thing that was missing was a larger display space than the Janette Kennedy art gallery, which was overwhelmed by the number of attendees. Our friend Kevin Steele had a booth just around the corner from The Crow creator James O’Barr’s. ArtLoveMagic is dedicated to developing and showcasing local talent in and around Dallas, and organizes regular events around town.
Other random travel notes: we found two awesome places for food and workin’ on the computer: Banter, in Denton, and Buli, in downtown Dallas. The report on both is the same: awesome food, creative non-alcoholic drinks and a comfortable environment. Buli especially is notable for serving our wickedly tasty sandwiches in old-school lunchboxes. Cool.
The Leland City Club is the first club I ever went to, and quickly went on to become the nighttime place that I unashamedly call home. City Club’s not like any place else, for better or worse.
The club is ancient (it’s been open since the 1980s), and single-purpose. It exists at the whim of the Leland Hotel’s owner, which means both that it does not particularly need to make money, and that it can be only one thing. City Club is only open Fridays and Saturdays (and occasional holidays), and only as a goth-industrial club, unlike most other nightclubs which rotate through different-themed nights during the week. As a result, the place has a comfortably shitty, lived-in feel to it. There’s a good chance that it’s haunted, and the condition of the building mirrors the decay of Detroit in spite of recent minor renovations. And in a way, that’s part of its charm. If the speakers didn’t occasionally short out, if the heat worked on twenty-degree December days, it somehow wouldn’t be quite the same place. More than one regular calls it “Shitty Club,” but they still keep showing up, generation after generation of punk, goth, rivethead, cyber, electro, lolita and emo kids. Gay, straight and anywhere in between are present and welcome.
City Club’s big. Here’s the nickel tour: you enter through an unmarked door in the back of the building, climb a set of dilapidated stairs (note that there are no railings on them any more, something that you’ll want to keep cognizant of if you plan to be leaving intoxicated) and push your way through a set of carwash-style plastic flaps.
At the door, you’re frisked, mostly for drugs and weapons. It’s Detroit, after all, and there are crazy people out there. It may seem a little bit invasive (you won’t be allowed to bring in a camera, a weapon or wear dangerous-looking spikes) but the result is that the club is safe on the inside, and that’s what counts. Immediately in front of you is a frequently-changing open area that’s one of City Club’s four primary socialization spaces. On our last visit, it had been set up with a pair of opposed couches on one side, and an L-shaped homemade chaise lounge/futon that I call the “pillow ship” on the other. Furniture at City Club has a relatively short shelf life, leading to frequent replacements and redecoration. To the left as you come in are the vending machines (cigarettes and candy) and coat check.
Proceed forward and you’re between the bar and the bathrooms. This narrow space is, much to the frustration of the security staff, the second major socialization area. The wall across from the bar has a mural on it, and it’s perfect for leaning up against and chatting. Anita and Marvin, the current bartenders extraordinaire, are on hand behind the glass-block counter to take drink orders. Décor in this section of the club is also mutable; most recently there are plastic skeletons and military camouflage netting hanging from the ceiling, which lacks a drop ceiling so the HVAC ducts and wiring are all visible. At the far end of the bar, you’ll often see local scene fixtures like the Latex Twins or luminaries from the Detroit Gothic Network (DGN) hanging out. In the summer, this is partly because there’s a small air conditioner at that end of the bar, or at least that’s where it used to be. In the winter, City Club is cold inside, and that’s just how it is. Recent repairs have improved the heating situation, but it’s still going to be cold.
City Club’s bathrooms are just like most club bathrooms, except with a tendency to malfunction. At least once every two months the water stops working in one restroom or the other, or in both. At least once a year, some angry drunk will rip out one of the sinks, toilets or bathroom stalls in the men’s room (the urinals have never been molested; apparently they’re tougher than the other fixtures).
Continuing past the bar, you’re in the third socialization area, consisting of tables and benches on both sides. It’s dimly lit, with the only illumination usually provided by candles on the tables and a ceiling-mounted television that is as likely to be playing a bootlegged new release as it is hentai, and it’s just quiet enough to hold a conversation if you raise your voice. City Club’s not overtly spooky, but the building’s general mien of decay and the abundance of dark corners create an atmosphere that suits the mood of the average spooky kid quite nicely.
Did I mention that this space will be choked with smoke in a variety of flavors? Detroit’s goth scene is populated heavily with chain smokers. Guests with tender lungs should be aware; in spite of its size, City Club’s a secondhand smoke farm.
By this time you’ll be able to hear the dance floor, which is around a couple of corners yet. The dance floor is straight ahead, but the entryways are staggered so you have to turn left and then right. The small hallway that this layout creates is where the DJ booth is (you’ll approach it from the back side) and is the club’s fourth socialization space. It’s loud, but folks hold shouted conversations here nonetheless. Many of the long-time regulars hang out in this area, as it’s one of the brightest spaces of the club, and the high traffic makes for good people-watching. City Club’s elite will be able to tell you where Coffey’s Corner and Chad’s Chair are, and where Mark often puts his incense.
Finally, you reach the dance floor, the fifth and final circle of City Club. Housed in what was once a ballroom popular with Detroit mobsters, City Club’s dance floor is cavernous compared to that of the average club. The murals on the walls change about once a year, on average. The most recent repaint hasn’t been particularly popular, though the blacklights and bench seating along the walls are much appreciated. Massive speakers mounted at each corner of the room are far from cutting-edge, but what they lack in quality sound they make up for in quantity. The dance floor itself is tile, and the regulars know how infrequently and indifferently it gets cleaned, which is why we wince when an enthusiastic break-dancer puts his hands or head on it. At the far end of the dance floor, a raised stage provides another seating area. Sometimes it’s used as a VIP area for special events, but most nights anyone can hang out up there. It provides a decent view of the dance floor, as well as yet another dark corner, but if you try to have sex up there they’ll kick you out.
It’s hard to describe what’s special about City Club’s dance floor, because it’s not exactly tangible. Objectively, the club is a shithole. But from an emotional standpoint, once you swim past the human drama that’s smeared all over any club, City Club’s got a feeling of being more than just a place. It’s the difference between a building being a house and being a home, and whatever that X-factor is, City Club has it. Regulars, newbies and tourists alike seem to recognize this once they hit the dance floor. The masterful thing about this club is that nobody cares. City Club’s just not that judgmental, as a whole. You can be gothed to the nines, or just wearing a polo shirt and jeans, and once you get out to the dance floor it’s clear that whatever your thing is (unless you want to slam-dance), you can just go for it. Can’t dance? Doesn’t matter. Nobody’s watching anyway; they’re paying attention to whoever’s in the mood to show off.
City Club’s playlist consists of a steady diet of industrial, synthpop and danceable goth, with a sprinkling of powernoise and electro. To put that in plain English, this means that you can expect to hear VNV Nation, Assemblage 23, Combichrist, Rotersand, Switchblade Symphony, Snake River Conspiracy, Apoptygma Berzerk, NIN, Stromkern, Covenant and KMFDM almost nightly. The local juggalos keep trying to get the Insane Clown Posse into the mix, but are unlikely to succeed, and this is a good thing.
Our route from Montgomery westward to Dallas took us straight through Vicksburg, MS, so we decided to stop in and visit H, one of my oldest Internet friends. There was never a finer picture of Southern hospitality, as we arrived late to find a fantastic dinner of catfish and chicken and a puffy homemade “dutch baby” dessert waiting for us. We spent the night in the parking lot of the Ameristar casino (casinos are also handy places for free one-night overnight parking, when they’re available) and then the next day we got lunch and a quick tour of the coolest parts of Vicksburg from H. Lunch was had at the family-owned Main Street Market Café, which specializes in amazing sandwiches.
Vicksburg is a smallish town, and not a big tourist destination in spite of its historical significance. Still, it’s worth a day’s stop. There’s a pleasant historical drive, and this town is a big fan of statues, as busts of Civil War luminaries line the route. H showed us Vicksburg’s downtown, a handsome historic-district sort of place. You thought I was going to call it “quaint,” didn’t you? No, Vicksburg is too big to be quaint, though it’s also too small to make it into the average tourist brochure. Even the Lonely Planet guide’s intro was reasonably short, and omitted the 140-plus year-old Thomas Furniture Building, which collapsed into the street in 2006 and then sat there for two years, bricks spilling across the sidewalk, because the city and the owner got into a pissing match over the historic building’s fate and who should pay for its reconstruction and restoration. The mess has been cleaned up off of the sidewalk, but the historic building’s fate is still in limbo. Downtown’s also got a historical mural that stretches for two or three blocks along the riverfront, illustrating the history of the town, and of course the Ameristar riverboat casino, which was used in the Coen brothers’ remake of The Ladykillers.
Thanks to the unseasonably warm weather in V’burg (a warm front that was apparently blowing ahead of an ice storm from the west!), we were able to take a quick (properly chaperoned) drive through the grounds of the US Army COE Engineer Research and Development Center (ERDC). If you know where to look and have someone who’s got the clearance to take you, the ERDC has a display of prototype and unique military vehicles that, while not particularly well-tended, does show off the amazing variety of interpretations of “all-terrain vehicle.” From screw-drive swamp buggies to trinary-drive wheels and, of course, a tank (which was amusingly labeled thusly: “TANK.” Unfortunately, the pictures of the tank didn’t come out, so you get a self-propelled gun), this little parking lot is a gearhead’s playground…if you can find it. The poor dears are weather-beaten and sinking into the ground; a few of them have trees growing through ‘em. Cool, but kind of sad-making.
We would’ve liked to stay in Vicksburg a bit longer, but appointments in Dallas called; a round of upgrades to the moho needed to be done, and parts were waiting at the shop. So, we bid Mississippi a regretful farewell, but we plan to return.
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