A Weekend of Rock, Friends, and Returning Home

Back Home — October 24–26, 2025

The Detroit area will always be my home. No matter where life takes me, that city and its people hold a piece of my heart. This past weekend, October 24–26, 2025, will be one I’ll never forget.

I had been planning to see Lynch Mob ever since they announced their show. I wanted to see Jaron, their bassist, who has become a part of my music family, and since Damien was filling in for another band playing the next night, it felt like the perfect weekend to head back home — the place where my soul always feels at peace.

So, Friday afternoon, we hit the road. I was buzzing with excitement, posting on social media about the trip and counting down the hours until showtime. But as life tends to go, my excitement didn’t last long.

Out of nowhere, now mind you she was planning on coming to Damien's gig, a friend I’ve known for over 30 years messaged me, saying she wished she had known I was going to Lynch Mob because she would’ve brought her son and met me there. I replied casually, something like, “Yeah, that would’ve been cool.” Then came the message that completely shifted my mood:

“It would’ve been nice if you invited me to come hang with you, but I guess it’s about music and not friends.”

That one hit me hard. My heart sank, and I thought — what the actual hell? I replied, reminding her that I had told her a month ago I was going, that Damien wanted to see them one last time before the band was done for good.

But in my head, all I could think was: why does she always do this? Why does she try to make me feel guilty for having a life? Does she want me to be unhappy? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of treatment from someone who’s supposed to be my friend?

She’s deleted and re-added me on social media more times than I can count. And yet, I still reach out. I still ask how she’s doing. She rarely checks in with me anymore. She has no idea what I’ve been through — the pain I’ve carried, or the things I don’t post online. Because I don’t share everything on social media. I don’t live-stream my life.

True friends reach out. They call, they text, they show up.

But that’s enough of that story for now.

It may have started off rocky, but the second I saw The Token Lounge sign glowing in the night, all the negativity melted away. I was home. I was finally going to see my friends and my music family.

Friday night was all about supporting my friend Jaron and hanging out with Jason. Jaron had put me, Damien, and Jason on the Lynch Mob guest list, which was incredibly kind. We arrived before Jason, so we hung out, soaking in that pre-show buzz.

Jaron came out to talk with us for a while, just being his down-to-earth self. At one point, he looked at me and asked, “How are you?” I said, “I’m okay.” He paused and said, “Are you sure?” With that look like he could see through me.

That simple moment hit me. It showed me what genuine friendship looks like — someone who cares enough to ask twice.

A little while later, Jason showed up, and we shared one of those big hugs that say, “I’ve missed you, friend.” Jason and I go way back — we met over 30 years ago. He was my ex-husband Jason's best friend and even a groomsman in our wedding. We all hung out every weekend whether it was at Harpos Concert Theater, my apartment or Hines Park we were all always together. When Jason and I divorced, Jason and I lost touch for a while. We reconnected over 20 years later when I reached out to let him know my ex was in a bad way in the hospital and wasn't gonna make it. Since then, Jason and I have gone to concerts together, talk almost daily or weekly, and rebuilt our friendship, that has become one of the most meaningful parts of my life. And right then, my heart was full again.

Because in that room, surrounded by music, friendship, and familiarity… I was home.

The bands rocked, we laughed, and I squeezed my ass right up to the front to grab some pictures and video of Lynch Mob and Jaron. That’s my happy place — front and center, camera in hand, heart pounding to the music. Then it was back to Jason and Damien.

Being around Jason brings me out of my shell in a way few people can. Basically like only those who truly know me can. When I’m with him, I feel like me again — the version of myself from my twenties. The carefree, loud, laughing, alive me. My happiness soars, and for a few hours, I forget about all my problems… and trust me, there are plenty.

At one point, I even got to shake hands with the legendary Chuck Alkazian, the owner of Pearl Sound Studios, a man who’s worked with some of the greats. It was one of those moments that reminds you why you love music in the first place.

Then I spotted John Bobby, who books bands at The Token Lounge. We started chatting, catching up. Later in the night, in that small-world way that only Detroit can provide, I found out John actually knew my ex-husband. He and Jason were talking about people they knew, and it all just clicked — full circle, right back to my roots.

When the show ended, Jason, Damien, and I waited for the band to finish loading up so we could say goodbye to Jaron. More hugs, more laughter, more love. My heart was happy.

We left and stayed the night at Damien’s mom’s house, where she kept me up until 4:30 a.m. talking. I was exhausted, but my mind was still racing from the night — reflecting on how amazing it felt to be surrounded by true friends, music, and memories that felt like home.

When I finally laid down on the air mattress, sleep didn’t come easy. Between the pain from my herniated discs in my neck, pain in my hips and the air mattress, I only managed a couple of hours. But when I woke up around 6 a.m., tired and in pain, I reminded myself — Friday night was just the start of what would become one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time.

The day was quiet, spent relaxing, and loving on Max, Damien’s mom’s little Chihuahua. He’s a funny little guy — needy, spoiled, and always giving me side-eye like, “Don’t forget who’s boss.” We have a special connection I think lol

That night was Damien’s gig at Salerno’s Tavern in Taylor, and I was looking forward to seeing Jason again and to my surprise, my cousin Tammy and her husband were coming too.

By the time I got there, I was running on fumes, maybe an hour and a half of sleep total. I told myself I wasn’t going to drink and was just going to chill. But then Jason called to tell me that he had to park across the street and that he was here. When I saw him walk in, it was like a switch flipped — the exhaustion disappeared, replaced by that familiar burst of joy.

Seeing him felt like coming back to life. Like all the pain and pressure of life disappeared.

We hugged, sat down, and started talking. And yeah, I broke my “no drinking” rule — we shared a beer, because how could I not? Sometimes it’s the little moments that remind you what living feels like.

The place was packed, not a seat open anywhere, full of good energy and people smiling. Jason and I couldn’t help but laugh as we talked about the band, a few spots where they totally messed up parts, but Damien was on point. He carried the rhythm, locked in, never missing a beat. You could tell he was in his element. We chatted about NAMM (for those of you who do not know, it is National Association of Music Merchants) something both Jason and I have on our list of what would be cool to go too.

Later on, Jason and I stepped outside to hit our vapes, and we ended up having one of those moments that will forever make me laugh. This guy comes out, starts chatting with us, and then suddenly says he has to piss. We kind of laughed and said, Okay as he said he had to find somewhere to go, thinking he meant either between cars or near a tree. Next thing I know, he takes a few steps, drops his pants, and starts peeing right there! I completely lost it, turned to Jason and said, “Did he really just drop his pants and start pissing?” Jason laughed and said, “Yes, he did” and we both walked away cracking up, I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. It's moments like these you never forget.

Inside, the night kept getting better. My friend Tom Crewes texted me when he found out I was in town, which made me smile — just one of those simple things that reminds you someone’s thinking of you. Then, not long after, my cousin Tammy and her husband walked in, and my heart swelled even more.

Tammy isn’t just my cousin — she’s more like a sister to me. We grew up together, spent weekends playing cards, hit the bars, and laughed until our faces hurt. I love her deeply, and having her there just completed the night.

We caught up, laughed like no time had passed, and watched an older woman dancing all night long without a care in the world. Tammy and I even played a game of pool (she beat me, of course).

As I looked around that night — at Jason and Tammy — I felt it deep in my heart: I was whole again.

This — this — is what life is about. Holding onto what makes your heart beat. Holding onto friendships, family, laughter, and the things that make you feel alive, even if it’s just for one unforgettable weekend. Those are the memories that remind you who you are and what you want out of life.

Detroit will always be home. And who knows, maybe one day, I’ll come home for good.

As I went to bed on my last night, I fell asleep happy. No worries, just peace. My old friend’s words from earlier in the weekend floated through my mind — the guilt trip, the “music over friends” comment. But you know what? I realized I don’t owe anyone an apology for being happy. I don't owe anyone an invite or an explanation of why I am going to a concert. If I truly mattered, she would have just shown up. She would’ve been happy for me instead of making me feel small. Being with Jason, Tammy, James, and Damien, seeing John and Jaron and the text from Tom, made me realize her words in my head were just words from someone who is so unhappy with their life that they want to drag people down with them. It is toxic, it is someone who is either insecure, or seeking attention and if you aren't there to like a post, watch a live stream then you aren't a true friend. Which is so far from what a true friend is. It truly hurts to say but for my own well being, I need to close that chapter of my life, because the constant add and delete, well you know it is just a game to her, but it is emotionally draining to me. Seeing everyone made me realize a lot.

Sunday morning, as we headed home, I cried. The tears weren’t just sadness (ok yes more sadness because I was leaving somewhere that makes me happy) — they were gratitude. Because this weekend reminded me of what love, friendship, and belonging feel like.

And that feeling stayed with me all the way home.

In just a few weeks, Jason and I will be back at The Token Lounge to see Alex Skolnick, one of our favorite metal guitarists who has a jazz band. We’ll also be celebrating our birthdays together that night — another reason to smile and another memory waiting to be made.

To all of you who made this weekend happen for me, you know who you are, thank you. Because of you, my heart is full — yes, heavy because I had to leave, but full because you all are a part of it. See you soon. Because home truly is where the heart is. I already miss you guys.

Peace, Love and Loud Music,

Mickey 💜🖤🎵🤘