Anybody can read a clock, but he has the gift of telling time. The Groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil knows when spring will arrive.

In late March Phil aka Mo aka Tony, emerges from his flat a few doors down the block and sniffs the air. The ground could be covered in snow or starting to green but either way he’ll sense if winter is over. If all is well and we’ve been blessed with an early spring, he’ll pull a large speaker out of the house, set it up on the porch and begin to blast 90s east coast hip hop.

It’s the warm weather anthem, glorious summer is not far away.

This week Tony and I got in the truck and headed to southwest Detroit for a field trip. All my life all I ever wanted to do was be on a field trip, it was my favorite kind of school day.

There was a time when life was a never-ending excursion to places unknown. But COVID came along and severely limited our movement. For a time, we walked in circles from work to home, grocery store, and relatives.

The height of lockdown I sat in my basement, glass of Maker’s Mark in a plastic cup, Spotify running in the background. I was listening to J Dilla, allowing the musical algorithm to take me down a glorious rabbit trail. In this manner I arrived, extremely late to the party called lofi hip-hop and it carried me to many musical places beyond even that.

There was nowhere to go and no one to be with. COVID necessitated other, mainly inward, forms of exploration. There was silence. And meditation.

There was listening to sounds from other places on the globe. There was radio.garden

and there was the darkness of Detroit early evenings, the days still long, the winter not yet over.

What started in that basement is what brings Tony and I to southwest tonight. El Club is playing host to French Canadian keyboardist Anomalie and his young opener Bad Snacks. It is the music of Generation Z: Nasty beats and extremely Nice people.

Now when I listen to hip hop, it’s like being a guest in someone else’s home. Come on in, take off your jacket, stay awhile!

But don’t get it twisted, this is not your house.

So be polite: take your shoes off, ask where the washroom is. Don’t overeat at dinner.

It is unnerving realizing you’re not the young one anymore. The younger generation is chill, far more than us. The sound is like elevator music, smooth jazz over hip hop beats. A room full of heads bobbing, dancing, going nuts. It’s wild. These kids don’t know it’s not their home. Or rather, it is their home.

The crowd is sober and orderly. I hear the word “kindness” uttered about a dozen times before the night is over. Our headliner kills it, but he isn’t arrogant. Far from it: he repeatedly reminds us he’s grateful to live the life of a creative, he’s grateful for his crew, he’s grateful to be in Detroit.

We can barely believe our eyes and ears. What to make of this excursion abroad? We’ve gathered the data and can now make some conclusions. Despite what we’ve been told it seems that the Future is Bright.

Tony sniffs the air and looks up at the back wall. There, just beyond the back row, we can see his shadow starting to appear.

A Field Trip