6.01.2009

My heart is in Toronto, though the Rustbelt trophy is in my kitchen




To get it out of the way, lets hang a big, pink dress (in honor of Barbara Fant) on the elephant in the corner:
A lot of people decided to not come to Rustbelt this year.



Which is a shame...but understandable from some standpoints. The perceived distance to Toronto for some cities, the complication of crossing an international border and worries of obtaining a passport (though you didn't actually need one till two days after Rustbelt ended) or the theological discussion of whether the city of Toronto was actually part of the Rustbelt Region or not and just how relevant that point was. I'm not disputing any of those causes. What disappoints me is that by simple math, plenty of teams that voted for Rustbelt in Toronto last year decided not to show up this year. That...is a problem. So I went in to Rustbelt with a completely different perspective from past years. I put together a make-shift team before Writing Wrongs even had their slam-off, eventually ended up registering 1/3 of the teams that would compete at Rustbelt and told Mike "Spike" Cowell that this would probably be Rustbelt 'Lite' because there were only 6 teams.

Well, either by coincidence or as a direct correlation, this was the most fun I've had at a Rustbelt yet (which includes two of those happening in my hometown). For the record, I've never not enjoyed a Rustbelt to some capacity (except the self mutilation that occurred within my team in Milwaukee '06). But the community aspect we all want to take away as poets and that we as organizers all try to sculpt from the walls of the venues we choose was there...in a big way. The competition was unwavering, make no mistake, but the love for every poet that stepped off stage, the anticipation of every poet from the previously unknown (like Phoenix of Cleveland), the Alphas (like Jamaal May), the uniqueness of the multi-voiced poems that Toronto always brings to the table was thick and seemed to hover above the speakers during the intros of each round. Toronto developed the reputation early on how impossibly friendly, committed and organized they are in the poetry slam pursuits and it put a nice shine on everything this weekend. And congrats to the organizers growing the biggest Finals audience in Rustbelt history. The venue was beautiful, the energy was dripping into the aisles and the attentiveness of the crowd was as good as you're going to find...on either side of the border. Cheers Toronto...you get my props in a big way.

I also learned a ton about my National Slam Team as they made up most of the official Columbus Writing Wrongs team at Rustbelt (plus Omari Kingwise who I'll get to later). I gave Mike the reins to coach the squad as I doubt I'll be coaching adult slam teams for another 10 years and didn't want a conflict of interest being on another team anyway. I was proud of them, extremely proud. I felt like Ethan and Wyk cut their teeth the right way, getting a taste of National Competition, the feel of how lonely and liberating the stage can be in front of a bunch of strangers. It renewed (or re-upped) my confidence in them as we prep for Nationals. Mike got a crash course in decision making and its short and long term impacts on your squad (while he performed extremely well himself). They all got what they needed to get out of it and I couldn't ask for more than that. The immortal Jim Brown once said, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth"...and they definitely stood tall after taking their lumps.

Which leads me to Omari...who was invaluable. I have no illusions of whatever shadow I may cast for my National teammates and just how Alpha and opinionated I am as a coach for them, so I know there's a chance of them becoming numb to me at times. So Omari being part of the squad was just perfect. He's an ideal teammate, a team first guy who excelled into Indy finals anyway. He led by example and gave my guys a glimpse at what a professional, selfless poet looks like in a competitive situation. He definitely one of my favorite people right now.

Ok...Detroit...not much I can say as I love these peeps already. Its no secret that J.W. Baz (who rolled with Detroit) is one of my best friends in poetry scene kinda made my weekend just being there. The always beautiful Karrie Waarala is a joy both on and off stage. Tom Budday just did his fuckin thing. Point blank. When the opening salvos were fired, he was winning his rounds and he rode that energy to second place at Indie Finals. Which was only because Jamaal 'Vs.' May won it...again...Of course he did. Before Rustbelt started when we were all trying to guess who might make Indie Finals, we were all like, "Well, Jamaal is the only automatic..." I make no concessions on my admiration of the man's work as he's one of my favorite cats in this here poetry game. There were times when he performed this weekend where I could feel my spine CLICK and as cynical as I've become about poetry, that doesn't happen very often.

As for my Brooklyn-Columbus team...we accomplished what we set out to do, which is win the whole damn thing. Which felt good. Damn good. For a number of reasons. I had people telling me that I carried us to the championship which is complete BS (nice compliment aside) as everybody, I mean, everybody brought it. Especially at Finals.

Dave Nichols - Dave has always been an interesting case study as far as slam is concerned. You won't find a person that doesn't think his work is amazing, but he's feast or famine in slam at times because of his rapid and dense style. He stumbled a little the first night of competition and I told Mahogany that Dave would internalize that and be a complete Beast the rest of the way...and he didn't make a liar out of me. Just a joy watchin the big guy let loose on stage. And if you haven't heard about the booty bounce her performed in the middle of his poem, then you better ask somebody.

Barbara Fant - I don't know how it happened exactly, but somehow I became more like an older, overprotective brother of Barb more so than colleague or coach. In my short time on the poetry scene, I have never seen someone skip as many levels on the evolutionary ladder than her. More than anything, my favorite aspect of the last couple of years has been watching her go from (seemingly) shy pretty girl with a big smile to Godzilla behind a microphone and its been awesome, awesome, awesome.

Mahogany L Browne - Look, this started as a joke. We were chillin at the Hard Rock Cafe during Women of the World when Rustbelt came up in the discussion and she was like, "I wanna be on your Rustbelt team." I said absolutely. She thought I was bullshittin. I wasn't. She went thru a lot to make her way to Toronto this weekend and its unquestionable that she changed the landscape of how this event was going to play out. Her poetry and high scores aside, she just gave my squad (and the competition on the whole) this swagger that could not be silenced. She got Barb and Dave to believe that it was our title to lose. She got us all to wear the "I'm kind of a Big Deal" T-shirts just to cement that confidence. She was awesome as she always is in every way and made this even more fun than it was going to be. Love you Mo Browne.

Again, Toronto, you did a great job, behind the scenes and on stage, giving me an experience I won't soon forget. Peace to everyone that made this thing really, really fun (like Tom Noy, Free, LOGIC, Mr. Edward Mabrey and the Marsh Family) as LOGIC will have his work cut out for him next year in East Lansing. Goodnight Canada, I miss you already.