Bonnaroo 2014: The Start.


Not knowing what you’re about to live through for the next five days can be overwhelming. Especially when you’re in Tennessee during the scrotum of Summer with two of your best friends and you’ve all ended up having to share a tent. So far it’s pretty fun, (the tent is pretty-baller-shot-caller,) so I think we’ll be fine. Plus we’re just awesome.

12 hours and a questionable Mexican lunch adventure later, we’re in line for the campground, watching everyone’s shit get poked, prodded and confiscated. We were all on fashion patrol too. The rainboots-and-overalls combo must be stopped, feather headdresses still are still being worn by the white man, some girls are dressed totally ridiculous for a camping festival.

But the good, the bad, and the ugly are all part of the visual aesthetic and culture of the festival. And it’s nice to be among the funky. To dance fucking weird in a silent disco to songs about pussy. To watch new up and coming bands charm the panties off of you. Even dude’s panties. (Check out Catfish and The Bottlemen. Amazing.) Oh and probably to watch Kanye West interrupt some white bitches, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Festival cuisine isn’t that bad – that is, if you make good choices. You have your hotdog/corndog/funnel cake booths that tug at your inner fat-kid-tendencies ( aka overindulgent 20-something-ness) and booths with mouth watering, real human food that your mom would be proud of you for eating.

We devoured some enormous Greek wraps stuffed with an abundance of sex selected from a Zeus-like salad bar and sat in the grass like field mice. Field mice wearing crop tops and camelbacks.

Acoustic music was encircling us and girls were dancing with silver hoops running up and down their arms. The sun was setting and it was hitting us: the slow tornado of the money spent, the money fretted, the months, the days, and the hours spent planning this has stopped: it’s here. We are trapped in a 4 -day music party with amazing food and friendly people.

All three of us work so fucking much that we don’t get to do enough fun things with each other. It’s nice to be out of touch with worries, Orlando, obligation, traffic, I-4, termites, angry truckers, SEO, how you want your fish tacos cooked or working 13 hours for under a hundred bucks.

I feel like this festival will help put some things into perspective for all of us. Sometimes you need to step out to assess things in a new light.

After this nap we will see what’s in store…were gonna go get weird at a rap show.

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