Bonnaroo!	June 25, 2007

It is Monday, and I am back at work for the second week post-Bonnaroo, and while I still am feeling the ill-effects of the adventure that it was (peeling sunburn-arms and a sore throat from so much dust inhalation), I am not feeling the strong bitterness that I was feeling last week. I was not ready to re-enter the working world, where no one considers body paint a shirt, no one randomly offers you bong hits, and no one throws glowsticks or laser pointers at complete strangers. Today, however, my attitude has improved, after a much-needed weekend on the couch with Paper Mario. While I am anxiously awaiting the announcement of next year’s line-up (and I’ll be waiting for, oh, 8 more months), I also am finding the good in the world outside of Bonnaroo.

So here begins my wrap-up, complete with a few pictures. If you want to view the whole she-bang of pictures, you can, but I don’t claim that they are awesome or anything. I took a few shots of every band I saw (except for the White Stripes, because my batteries ran out), just to keep a record, and not to win a photojournalism award.

Thursday, June 14
I don’t even know why I’m including Thursday in my wrap-up—all we did was drive. We woke up, we ate bagels, we went to Target to buy ponchos, a picnic blanket, and refillable water bottles, then got on the road. I began a game of license plate bingo, and was able to cross off 39 states before we arrived at our hotel in Tullahoma, TN, some 13 hours later.

Yes, that’s right, hotel. We are clearly pansies who can’t hang with the music festival camping scene. We made this choice based on the fact that 1) we own essentially no camping gear (not even a cooler—can you believe it?) and 2) we like taking showers. Feel free to judge us accordingly, but I am happy with the choice we made. Maybe we’ll camp next year.

Friday, June 15
We slept until 10:00, had breakfast at Waffle House, then headed to Manchester, home of the Roo. We had to wait for a half-hour or so to get in (I understand the camping folks who arrived on Wednesday had to wait for 5 or more hours—another plus of staying in a hotel!). They half-heartedly searched our car, pointed us toward the day parking lot, and we were in!

We made a beeline for the Cold War Kids show, which had just started. I have to confess, there was a part of me that wondered at that time, “What have I gotten myself into?” The tent was so crowded that we had to stand behind it, in the sun, sweating amongst many shirtless hippies and barely able to see the stage. The band was good, but I was so uncomfortable. Nearer to the end of the show, we were able to slide our way closer to the stage, until we were under the tent, and man oh man did that make a huge difference! It was so much cooler, and we could see better and hear better—an important lesson learned: Get there early!

After the Cold War Kids, we wandered in search of water. The website had told us that there’d be ample free drinking water, and it took us a little time to find it, then a little waiting in line to get it, then the water itself smelled funny (the website had also warned of that). But it was cold, and free, and it tasted just fine, so with full bottles in hand, we wandered over to the Tortoise tent.

The way Bonnaroo is scheduled, you FAR TOO OFTEN have to make tough choices. Tortoise was scheduled at the same time as the Brazilian Girls—who were we to see? We opted to see half of each show. Tortoise was good, and I’m glad I got to see them, but I was so bummed that we heard them start up my favorite song, “Seneca,” right was we were walking away.

The Brazilian Girls were so awesome, though, I soon didn’t care. I danced and danced and enjoyed the roominess of the crowd at the “Which” Stage (some background: the stages and tents had clever names—Which Stage, What Stage, This Tent, That Tent, etc., and the stages offered a nice open space for viewing, while the tents were covered and required folks to squeeze in tighter). As you can sort of see here, lead singer Sabina Sciubba adorned herself with this big flash gold disc which, while blinding at times, was just kinda neat.

When they wrapped up we had to scramble over to The Other Tent to get good spots for Gilian Welsch. Bonnaroo requires an unfortunate amount of scrambling. But it was worth it—we had a great view of a great show. The biggest surprise was when John Paul Jones (of Led Zeppelin fame) joined them on mandolin for a few songs. He was scheduled to perform that night at the first of several “Super Jams,” but also made appearances with Gilian Welsch as well as with Uncle Earl, I hear. Steve referred to him as a bluegrass whore for this, which I think is fitting.

The second VERY TOUGH CHOICE we had to make was between The Roots and David Cross. We opted for David Cross, a decision I later came to regret, but you must understand—David Cross’s show offered chairs, escape from sun, and air-conditioning, three things that we were desiring pretty badly at that point. I have loved Davis Cross for a long time and always wanted to see him, and Nick Kroll and Aziz Ansari, who opened for him, were pretty funny as well, but really, worth missing The Roots? I dunno.

After we got out of the comedy tent, most others rushed over to the What Stage to see Tool, the only performer scheduled at that time. Steve expressed only a mild desire to check out a little Tool, and I couldn’t care less. So we took that time to ride the Bonnaroo ferris wheel, have some beers and Thai food, and splay ourselves out on the blanket for a while. Here you see the AWESOME view we had of Tool’s laser light show.

We meandered back over to The Other Stage to get good spots for the Super Jam, the aforementioned assemblage of musicians to include John Paul Jones, Ben Harper, and ?uestlove from the Roots. Steve had said a few times leading up to it, “Gee, it’d be nice if they’d play a little Led Zeppelin.” And there was much rejoicing when they started up with “When the Levy Breaks” and continued to play two hours of pretty much non-stop Zeppelin hits. Fellow Roots member Kirk Douglas joined them for the encore, which included more soulful covers such as “Superstition” and “It’s Your Thing.” It was a great way to end the set—with a little ass-shakin.’ It sort of made up for missing The Roots when they played, but not really. I’d say it did more to regret missing them, and I now will make it my goal to see them for real, and soon (hmmm… they are playing at Lollapalooza…).

It was around 2:00 am when the Super Jam ended, and while we were bursting with excitement after what we’d just seen, we were also really. freaking. tired. Which I tell you to set the unfortunate stage for what followed next. We exited the concert area, meandered through many campsites, following the paths and the crowds, and came to realize that we were nowhere near our car. We asked a helpful Bonnaroo volunteer for assistance, and he whipped out his map and told us, with what sounded like certainty, that we needed to walk 9 blocks to the east. Nothing was making sense at that point, so we trusted him, and marched 9 blocks to realize that, no, that wasn’t the right place either. So we marched 9 blocks back, found another map, and made some sense of things somehow—it was about 3:00 when we actually got into our car, and 4:00 by the time we were back at our hotel, showered, and in bed.

Saturday, June 16
Before going to sleep, we both were saying that we needed rest, and if we missed the first act or two, it’d be OK, we shouldn’t overdo it, we’re on vacation, blah blah. But we both woke up at 10:00 or so, which gave us plenty of time to get dressed, get breakfast, and get to the festival in time to catch the first act on our agenda, Old Crow Medicine Show.

Before getting there, however, I took what is probably my favorite shot from the whole weekend—that’s right, Bonnaroo had protesters. Protesting not drugs nor underage drinking nor delinquency nor any other amoral activity that was taking place at Bonnaroo. They were protesting Rock n’ Roll itself. You’re about 50 years too late, folks, but I give you an A+ for effort.

Old Crow was a great way to start the day. There was a bit of a cool breeze, so I didn’t mind standing out in the sun and dancing away. Steve was more familiar with them than I, but I really enjoyed their set, and intend to promptly rip all of his CD’s.

Next up was Gogol Bordello, a band who I had never heard of, and Steve had just heard one song before and thought it was cool. There was a buzz, however, that they would be a good show to catch, and we got there pretty early and had a good view—what a great big pile of awesome their show was! It was dizzying. There were so many colorful characters on stage doing wacky things and such loud and hard yet festive music coming through. It was awesome. It was almost more than my eyes and ears could take in at once, but that’s what I call entertainment.

We took advantage of another opportunity to duck out of the heat and the sun and go to the comedy tent to see Dave Attell. I’d seen him before, at CMU, but he was pretty damn funny, as was his opening-guy, Dov Davidoff. I feel wrong saying this, but I enjoyed his act more than David Cross!

The evil Bonnaroo devils scheduled another doozy of a conflict after that – Ween, Spoon, Franz Ferdinand, and Ben Harper were all playing at the same time. Who engineered that crap? We opted to catch the first half of Spoon and the second half of Franz Ferdinand, which I think was a good choice. I enjoyed both of their shows, but I got into Franz Ferdinand more than I expected to. They’re one of those bands who I would never characterize as one of my favorites, but every song I hear, I think, “I love this song.” I have the same thing going on with Interpol.

Next up was The Police. Everyone was very excited to see them reunited, and I was especially looking forward to it after reading the drummer’s account of how much they sucked on his blog. We weren’t feeling crazy enough to try to get up front, so we watched it from a distance while enjoying fried food and beer and the company of some high school kids on acid (they really were adorable – is it wrong of me to say that?).

Whether we knew it or not, we were saving our energy for the Flaming Lips show. We left The Police a little early to score good spots at the Which Stage. It was 90 minutes before the start of the show, and a tightly packed crowd of fans had already formed in front of the stage, so we packed ourselves in, sighed at each other, and readied ourselves for an uncomfortable stretch of boredom. But it flew by. For starters, the band was on stage setting up, and that was pretty cool to see. Then, about an hour before show time, Wayne (the lead signer) came out and said, “Don’t tell anyone that we’re doing this, because technically our show doesn’t start until 12:00, but here’s a little something for you.” And they performed a cover of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs” for us, as a little thank you waiting so patiently. That was cool.

About 15 minutes before they were to start, some dudes came to the front of the stage and started throwing little red laser pointers at us, hundreds of them. This was nice of them, as it gave us something to do to pass the time. As tightly packed as we were, the folks in the crowd were very friendly, and we were all so excited and happy—none of that thick-necked asshole behavior that you find at rock shows sometimes. Once the show started, wow. As you may recall, I’d seen the Flaming Lips not long before, and at this show they did a lot of the same things I’d seen before, but they also did a lot more. The band “landed” on stage via a huge flashing UFO, except for Wayne, who popped out the top of the UFO in his hamster ball and rolled down and around on the crowd for a while.

It was overwhelming, all of it. The balloons, the confetti, the strobe lights, the UFO, the aliens, the superheros, the santas, the laser pointers (which, by the way, he had us all shine at him at one point, which was mega-cool-looking, and well-captured by an backstage guest). And I thought Gogol Bordello was too much to look at! Seriously, it was amazing, even touching at times, like when Wayne thanked us Bonnaroo-goers from what seemed like a very genuine and meaningful place, or when he played a psychedelic version of “Taps” using a mechanical Taps-playing bugle that the armed forces have had to create because there are too many military funerals happening right now.

We headed back to the hotel, sleepy and content from another full day (and we had no trouble finding our car this time, thank you!)

Sunday, June 17
The last day. Boo. By this time, we were both pretty achy and exhausted, and I managed to get a pretty brutal sunburn on my neck, back, and shoulders on Saturday, so we were actually a little thankful that Sunday was going to be a shorter day for us. The final show for s would be the White Stripes, scheduled to end before 9:00 (and after that was Widespread Panic, which both of us had no interest in sticking around for). We slept kinda late, as well—Steve really wanted to see Mavis Staples, but she started at 1:00, and I’m sorry to say we just couldn’t make it there in time. After having lunch at an endearing local family restaurant, we arrived at the festival at about 2:00, at it was freaking hot. While it had been relatively comfortable those first two days, he temperature had risen to 98 degrees.

We killed some time watching some of the sideshow and burlesque offerings in the Bonna-Rouge tent, which offered 1) shade, 2) freaks, and 3) boobies. We caught the tail end of the Yard Dogs Road Show, a group of awesomely talented musicians, magicians, and fan dancers. The act that followed them, Miss Lolly Pop's Burlesque Coterie & The Sideshow Bennie Experience, paled in comparison, I have to say.

We then scooted over toward the Which Stage, to get a spot for the Decemberists, and I was being a little picky at that point. With the heat and my sunburn, I was unwilling to plant myself anywhere without shade, so we watched their show from really really far back. I enjoyed what i saw, but I ducked out a little early to get a good spot for Feist. Steve later told me that after I left, Mavis Staples joined the Decemberists and they did a great version of The Band’s “Weight,” which made him feel better about missing her show earlier that day.

My camera died after I took 2 fuzzy pictures of Feist, so this is my last photo offering, and I’m sorry that it’s not so great. But as I said, I didn’t take these pictures in the interest of impressing anyone with my photo skills—I just wanted to create a chronological record of my activities. Anyway, Feist put on a good show, but I’m sorry to say I just wasn’t that into it. I dug hearing, “When I Was A Young Girl”, but she did so many of her newer and slower songs, which are great to listen to when lounging on your bed reading a book, but not when crammed into a sweaty dusty tent among shrooming teenagers. I guess there was an impatient part of me that just wanted to hear “Let Go” and “Mushaboom” and dispense with the rest of it. Forgive me—I was tired.

And last up, finally, was the White Stripes. Steve and I had parted company during the Decemberists—he had wanted to stay close to that stage and score a good spot for the White Stripes, so when I was done with Feist, I went back in that general direction, but made no attempt to get as close to the stage as he was. I held back and watched from a greater distance, in a more spacious area where I could dance, which I did at length, as I didn’t have to be burdened by picture-taking anymore!

And that was it! We met up at the fountain afterwards, got out of there with pretty much no waiting, and headed to the hotel to take a quick shower before scoting out some dinner. Have you ever tried to find a restaurant in rural Tennessee that is still serving food at 10:30 on a Sunday night? It ain’t easy. We ended up at Waffle House!

Monday, June 18
We decided to return to the same endearing family restaurant for breakfast, and it was yummy and still endearing. If you’re ever in Tullahoma, TN, you totally need to go to the Downtown Cafe. And get the biscuits and gravy.

Our car was so covered in crud—I tried to take a few dirty car pictures, but the camera does not properly convey how filthy it was. We took it to a car wash before heading home, because, silly Steve, he wanted to actually be able to see out his windows. As we got on the road, we started to regret having done that, as we felt a sort of camaraderie with the other filthy cars that we rode along next to on our way home. We were in and among Bonnaroo traffic all the way until I-66, which was just kinda cool.

Oh, please note here a photograph of Knoxville’s fabulous sunsphere, home of the 1982 World’s Fair. Knoxville! Knoxville! Knoxville!

In summary, it was exactly the vacation I needed. I loved seeing good music, being in the company of really friendly happy people, getting dirty, getting exhausted, and just enjoying myself. Here are some very important lessons that I learned:

1. If your desire to avoid port-a-potties is strong enough, it is possible to go an entire day without peeing. Sweating helps.
2. Everything tastes better when it is served on a stick.
3. While I find it very entertaining to observe people on drugs, I find myself evermore certain that it’s a good thing I don’t use them anymore.

(my apologies that it took me so long to get this up here—Steve and I both got quite sick upon our return to the land of the living, and it’s taken me some time to get my act together!)

Coming soon...	June 19, 2007

I am in the process of composing a ridiculously long and detailed account of our recent 5-day Bonnaroo adventure, but it'll take me some time. In the meantime, please enjoy this picture taken during the first few minutes of the Flaming Lips concert, while the band members were coming down onto the stage via a large flashy UFO and their signature huge orange balloons littered the sky (I feel that it is one of the coolest-looking pictures I have ever taken).