Thursday, July 16, 2015

Festival life.

Every so often, I think about how great it would be to go to a big music festival, like Coachella or Glastonbury. All those artists, so much music! Then I think about the following, pretty much immediately:

  • the horror of public toilets after about fifteen minutes of a megafestival.
  • the terror of the festival-style outfits.
And then I come to grips with the fact that (a) this will never happen in a million years, that (b) I might never have enjoyed this experience, truthfully, not even in my youth, and (c) ....

Well, you go ahead and say it. (the 'O' word.)


But I don't typically like to spend more than about a half a minute going down this line of thinking. As one of my good and wise friends once said to me when I was courting this trope--all the time, saying stuff like well, now that I'm middle-aged--'I just don't see where that's taking you.' And she was right. I'm as old as I am, okay? But that doesn't particularly mean anything, especially re rock-chick daydreams. I saw the shows I saw, okay? And the fact that I don't want to visit a toilet that has seen festival-level usage--well, that's not an old/young thing, it's more a 'never gonna happen, not if I can help it' kind of a thing.

Be this as may be: I went with several children and a wee grandchild to see Death Cab for Cutie at the Twilight Concert Series tonight at Pioneer Park. We missed all but the last song of the tUnE-yArDs set, sad to say, but we heard all of the Death Cab set, and it was great, right down to the last Kenny Loggins cover. (Just kidding--'Highway to the Danger Zone' was the music the producers saw fit to usher us out to.)

We found a patch of grass and sat on it, the baby looking up at and enjoying the sky. 

Observing the festival-style outfits, my daughter noted that it looked like a free people catalog. Yep. Hipster heaven.

But in the end, we went home and would sleep in our own beds, just one concert and no squalor worth mentioning. 

coupla sons

Daughter & Naomi--her first concert!

Dr. Write and I admire Naomi (thanks, Jane D., for this and the above

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