Strobe Flashes of Fest

Rather than forcing things into a narrative, I figured I'd just blog some glimpses of Fest.

• I always stress out over getting a good space for our campsite, but things work out every time. But the uncertainty leading up to it—the drive to Schwenksville, the weird parking situation, the run to an empty spot in the field—they take their toll on poor little me. But come 10:30, when our spot is secured and all I have to worry about is hauling all of our way-too-heavy crap up and down hills on a day too hot for decent people? That’s when Fest begins.

• Sometime during the first day, Kathy overheard a fiftyish-looking guy on his cell phone, walking through camp: “I’m at the corner of beautiful half-dressed girls and gorgeous half-dressed women. How’s your day?” It’s not like everyone at Fest is beautiful (I’m certainly not), and it’s not just that I have a weakness for hippie chicks (though I do). Maybe its just that everyone looks better when they’re happy, and Fest is a great place to be happy.

• I walking up the hill to get water on Friday morning when I heard the difference between sleeping and passed out: “Passed out is when you don’t take your shoes off.” Works for me.

• I really wish artists would leave some CDs with the Fest staff after they leave the festival. There were three different artists—The Felice Brothers, The Ryan Montbleau Band, and especially Kenny White—that I would have bought music from (White was so good I would have bought all three of his CDs without a second thought), but I missed the boat because I didn’t run right to the sales booth after their set. I'll probably wind up ordering these discs online, but it's an extra step that shouldn't be necessary, and probably costs more than a few sales.
  

• On our last night, someone had brought a trap set and an electric bass to their campsite. (Must’ve had some batteries for the amp—it was loud.) They, along with a couple people on bongos and a guy on trumpet, were playing a propulsive, driving jam in the darkness. We ambled down and listened and grooved. I started kicking a soccer ball around with some other people gathered. A girl stood there, swaying in a swinging hula-hoop. Someone lit off some roman candles, giving the whole experience a colorful strobelike effect—frozen flashes of the soccer ball, hands smacking bongos, the hula hoop against the girl’s hip. Probably my favorite moment in camp... everything came together right then.

• Finally, Mark Evanier sometimes introduces videos by saying there are some times you realize that you’re seeing someone do something better than anyone else. In that vein, check out Jake Shimabukuro play ukulele in this YouTube video. I saw him play three times this weekend, and each time took my breath away. Be amazed.

Rob