Everyone in Detroit has a Kid Rock story. Tom sat next to him at a strip club. Bryan’s band recorded in the studio at the same time as him before he was well known (ask Bryan for the rest of the story sometime). Jeanette played pool at his house and broke his screen door. Sandie met him at the courthouse when he was pulling permits for his bar. Christine used to do PR for friends of his and met him way back when.
But me? Save a concert of his or two, I’ve never even been in the same zip code as him. In fact, I’ve long proclaimed that I’m the only person in Detroit that has never met Kid Rock.
But that all changed this week. I was going to meet Kid Rock and finally – finally - I would have my own bona fide Kid Rock story to tell. Continue reading
