Space for Broken Buildings

Spring Lake is a great place to walk around. They've got a board walk trail that runs along the shore for a little ways and then it cuts into town parallel to the little shops and neighborhoods. It was here that I decided to take myself on a little walk. Through beached boats up on the dock, I walked the boardwalk with the wind and came upon an old brick warehouse*. Tall weeds hid some small broken window panes and grew up the cracks and gutters. Circling, I peeked inside. So much space! All filled with old boat trailers and somebody's furniture.

Where I am from in California, this building would be torn down or refurbished or used for some purpose beyond collecting dust atop boat trailers. Where I am from in California, land is way too valuable to let that happen. Every square inch of land is maximized and monetized, even the 5 freeway is too much space to leave empty! We spread our busy feet into every usable corner and claim it. Now Spring Lake is a nice town, a similar kind of nice as the town I am from in California. It seems to be doing well and most people who live there are probably middle class. It is not a "ghetto" like Detroit**(***). All that said, there is something about this part of the country that allows space
for broken and empty buildings.

(I returned to my car, which was strategically placed in front of the entrance to Old Boys' Brewhouse. My walk back had been into the forty degree wind, so it was a perfect occasion to warm up with a beverage or two.)

After dinner, I made my way to "the Hub"**** where a group of us were rehearsing for worship music on Sunday. I plugged in my bass and in-ears and we began to play/rehearse.

In San Diego, I played bass for a band called Not Machines*****. I loved our rehearsal times in Matt's living room. First we would spend time together with the primary goal of connecting. Then Brett would bring a song idea and we would start jamming. We would listen to one another, create together, balance off of one another, interplay melodies, harmonize, and slide into unique rhythms. And then we would slap ourselves for not recording it. Because it was such a real moment of creativity. Often, in live performances, I was trying to re-create what we had made in the living room. It seemed backwards, like our real performances and true expressions were in that living room, not on the stage.

At band practice tonight, I couldn't hear myself very well in my monitor. We would stop after playing through a song, communicate and run specific sections. There was nobody in the room but the band. Is this what it means to only practice music? Then what does playing music entail, specifically playing worship music? Must it involve more concern for what others think? More pressure? Really? Or is there space in town for broken buildings?



*I fantasize about turning a building like this into a brewery. I imagine where the boil kettle, lauter tun, whirlpool, and  all the fermentation tanks would go. I imagine it full of warm people taking deep sips from cold glasses with the biscuity smell of malted barley mashing in a hot tun. This building would be perfect, and it's for sale! Too bad I don't have a million dollars sitting around.

**I mean no disrespect to Detroit. I was there a couple weeks ago. As I drove through the surrounding neighborhoods I was saddened. Blocks and blocks of beautiful brick homes from the early 1900s were largely abandoned, boarded up, overgrown, and tagged. People still live in those houses, but clearly not as many as used to. Even downtown was similar. These people are trying to pick themselves up and build a new future for their families. But it is a work that is in slow progress. In the meantime, I enjoyed the city.

***My friend overheard someone from Detroit telling his friend that San Diego was a "ghetto". Huh?

****Our Christ community decided to gather in a laundromat-turned-worship-space and call it The Hub. We offer free laundry service to people who need the break. I think it's pretty cool that our leaders committed to that.

*****www.notmachines.com. shameless plug of my former, now inactive, band. Secondly, I realize that this blog post is richly adorned with end-notes and I am okay with that.