“I’m a little nervous about it,” radio personality Marco Collins told me about “The Glamour & The Squalor,” the in-the-works documentary about him. “We delved into stuff that was pretty intense for me to talk about.”

Drugs. Alcohol. Seattle’s music scene, from 1991 to 1997, when Collins was on the air at The End (KNDD-FM) and the city was sending out its own brand of sonic boom.

Collins, 48, is more nervous, though, about getting the independent film made. He and his crew have raised $29,000 through a Kickstarter campaign, and have just two days left to reach $50,000. They still have a handful of interviews to do, need to hire an editor, and are hoping to premiere the film next year at Sundance or South by Southwest.

Would-be filmmakers are everywhere. What makes this project different? “The movie is about the music scene in the ’90s,” he said. “I have been in the middle of it all.”

Indeed, Collins helped to break bands like Garbage, Weezer, The Presidents of the United States (Chris Ballew appears in the film), Harvey Danger, Ben Gibbard and Macklemore. He knew Kurt Cobain well (“I did, I did”) and helped keep at least one label — Republic Records — alive.

But there is also the addiction issue. His hitting rock bottom, his coming out.

The glamour and the squalor, indeed.

“Normal people struggle,” Collins said. “Not everybody wins. And I’m kinda that guy. So I guess the film is about trying to find balance.

“And music. Lots of music.”

PATH to the future

Melinda Gates could show up at a carwash and I would race there with an open notebook. My esteem for her really knows no bounds.

So of course I got up with the sun for PATH’s ninth annual Breakfast for Global Health the other day, where Gates made an appearance.

“Bill and I feel like, in some ways, we’ve grown up with PATH,” she told the crowd at the Bell Harbor International Conference Center. “This is like having breakfast with one of my elder siblings.”

She spoke of the lives that the global health organization has saved and improved. Just last year, PATH vaccinated 48 million people against meningitis A, provided 200,000 children with nutritionally enhanced grains, and pledged to deliver, over four years, up to 12 million doses of an injectable contraceptive for women.

Gates introduced PATH President and CEO Steve Davis, who had the unenviable but necessary job of talking about “poop” — the work the nonprofit has done to prevent and treat diarrhea, which is one of the most stubborn killers of children in Kenya. It has worked to provide clean water, water filters, toilets and drugs that reverse the dehydration caused by severe diarrhea.

Alfred Ochola, whose title is “technical advisor for child survival and development in Kenya,” said that children with diarrhea are considered “cursed.”

PATH has pledged to save 2 million of their lives by the end of 2015.

Back to Gates, who failed to mention one important point: The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation is a key funder in most of what PATH does. Maybe it’s assumed, because it was she reciting the numbers. But she never pointed it out.

See what I mean about the esteem?

Next stop: Route 66

LeMay-America’s Car Museum (ACM) in Tacoma is celebrating its first anniversary next week, and with good reason: A quarter of a million people from 50 states and 24 countries have passed through.

“It’s going great,” Scot Keller,

ACM’s marketing chief, told me the other day.

When ACM first opened, President and CEO David Madeira
pledged to make it a place to return to, with rotating exhibits and fresh ideas. Even though they were parked and on exhibit, the cars at ACM are destined to keep moving.

On June 2, the museum will debut “Legends of Motorsports: The NASCAR Story.” There are plans to host three drive-in movies on the show field. And there’s a Corvette exhibit in August.

ACM has also called in guest curator Ken Gross to put together an exhibit of cars from the 60-car collection of Ken McBride, a Seattle-born builder and car enthusiast who passed away in 2010.

And in November, Gross will open an exhibit centered on Route 66, one of America’s great highways.

Gross drove Route 66 from Missouri to California in 1967 and could barely keep his eyes on the road.

“Everybody wanted you to go to their diner, their snack shop, their bakery, their hotel,” he recalled. “There were teepees, a giant shark. Visually, it was an absolute feast. It wasn’t a trip, it was a journey.

“And we want to recapture that because most of that doesn’t exist anymore.”

Nicole Brodeur’s column appears Tuesday and Sunday. Reach her at 206-464-2334 or nbrodeur@seattletimes.com.