Babe I'm Leavin'...

I must be on my way. I was hoping to write a bit more about the rave, but it's 3 in the morning and I have to wake up at 6. But the car is packed, and we're off to the Philadelphia Folk Festival tomorrow bright and early. Okay, dim and early, but absolutely fucking early.

So I never did write about what an awesome vacation we had last week, and I'm already onto my next one. Maybe I'll do wrapups of both at once.

It dawned on me a couple of days ago that the reason the Utah rave has me so riled is that it was singled out to be busted. I have no real worries that PA State Troopers are going to chopper down onto the festival stage this weekend and stop the show. And it's not because they've paid their permits, and it's not because none of the folkies and hippies and goofballs there would ever think of touching a drug. The real reason's plain as day: Ravers are young. And when kids step out of line, they scare grownups, and grownups strike back. Out of protectiveness or out of jealousy, grownups make kids toe the line they're unwilling to walk themselves.

I'll be back after Fest. See you then.

Rob