Bonnaroo: Seven Days of Crazy

I didn't know what to expect.  Sure, we'll get some friends together, take a long-ass roadtrip down to the South, sleep in a tent and listen to music for four days straight.  Sounds like a plan, man.  This was Bonnaroo.  I knew that between the people I was going with, and the music that was going down, Bonnaroo was going to be something I'd herd my grandchildren together on Christmas Eve to relive the tale.

And let me tell you something, every damn Christmas Eve those kids are going to sit in a circle and listen to me reminisce.  You're invited if you'd like.  There's probably going to be a ham there too, always a sign of a good party.

"Ain't no party like a [baked ham] party." --S Club 7
[via shaydigital]

So, to truly give you the full extent of how good of a time I had, I think the only true way is to tell you everything.  Starting from the Tuesday before to the Tuesday after.  A whole week, children.  I'm going to describe everything I possibly can; I want you to feel like you were there after I finish this post.  If I don't succeed, I blame it on my lack of writing skills (please don't forget that I'm a science major).  If I do succeed, I can die happy.  Let me know how I do.

Day 1: Tuesday

I worked all day on Tuesday, and this was the day that I did all of my packing.  I planned a lot of things in advance, trust on that.  Actually putting the plan into action is a different story.  I have packing.  Nay, I loathe it.  I was tracking flights from the friends that were flying into my town and Buffalo.  One of them landed in Buffalo on time, awesome.  The other.

Rage.  I can't describe what it feels like to plan something so well, only to have it ruined.  My other friend missed his connection to Syracuse.  I got the text on my way to the airport, looked at it, braked in the middle of the street, turned into a side road (to the point where my car was drifting), parked the car, and then looked at the text again.  It was at this point that I started uttering words that don't exist in the English language.  Or any language for that matter.  If Kanye West was sitting next to me, chances are that he would've made a rap song out of that experience. He usually rides with me, I guess he just wasn't feeling it that time.  Whatever, Kanye.  I drive back home with new flight information, simmering anger, and the hope that this wasn't a preview of the trip.  Alas.  I fell asleep and woke up hours later to continue packing.

Day 2: Wednesday

I rise at 5:30 in the morning from the vibration of my phone.  I got a text from my friend who missed his flight.  He would be in at 10.  All good.  I get bopping around the house, look at the clock and it's 8:30.  Woah.  Where'd all the freaking time go?! I check the flight status and he's due at 9:30.  Eff my life.  I take the world's fastest shower, pack the entire car, then scramble up eggs with ham and cheddar, pop some toast in the toaster and slap some potatoes on the stove.  Breakfast.  Oh wait, it's not for me.  I knew my friend didn't eat for a long time, I figured he'd be hungry.  I look at the clock and it's 9:20.  I pray to the gods and beg that the 2004 Ford Freestar we'd be driving down to Tennessee wouldn't break down on us.  I had my mother's credit card with me in case Olmec decided to say "oh hell no" and leave us stranded.

He's a diva like that.
[via image.motortrend.com]

I get to the airport and find my friend.  I tell him there's hot food in the car ready for him.  I don't think I've ever gotten the look of true love like the one he gave me.  Food for you...  We head off to Buffalo, where we had to pick up the two other people in our gang.  Yes, I said gang.  Yes, I'm in a gang.  

A lot of the road trip was full of sleep, Kanye West, and construction.  We left Syracuse at 10am.  Please remember that for later.  We stopped for gas periodically, because the van literally gets 4 miles to the gallon. I wish I was exaggerating.  You can see the gas dial go down as you drive.  Also, I heard my wallet cry.  I think there's a direct correlation between the two.  Graphically, this would be a positive trend.  Perhaps exponential.  Well, it's just linear but a slope that's ridiculous.  An equation could be y = 46x + 3 or something.  That sounds about right.

We did make two stops, however.  Both in Ohio (which, by the way is a freaking huge state).  The first was at a Walmart to buy groceries.  Okay, I want to start this with saying that I know all Walmarts are just ridiculous.  However, it seems to be that the further south you go, the crazier the people get.  We walk in to get food, and head over towards the watermelons.  Obviously any road trip I take requires a watermelon.  Please see my blog post on my love of watermelon here.  Now, if you love watermelon as much as I do you have to be pretty good at picking them out.  I really am good at it.  This lady walks up to us, after having chosen one of the best watermelons in the store and whispers: "You know, kids, the bigger the yellow spot on the watermelon, the better it is..." and promptly glides away.

Stop.

What?

Did an elderly woman just tell us how to pick out a watermelon and then walk away?  We showed ours to her and she said it wasn't good enough.  We bought it anyway.  Did she put a curse on us and our watermelon (newly named Watermelondrea)? Let me tell you something, that watermelon endured more hardships than Harriet Tubman.  Throughout the course of the road trip, she fell out of the trunk three times and maintained her ground.  If I fell out of a trunk three times, I would be in the hospital.  Not Watermelondrea.  She's a survivor.

The other stop we made was at a Wendy's.  Actually let me back-track.  After the Walmart expedition, I drove for a few more hours and decided that humans need to sleep.  So, I let the Canadian (yes, a Canadian went to Bonnaroo with us) take the wheel.  I passed out, dreaming of nothing.  Then I feel my body shaking and my friend is talking to me with a louder voice than usual.

"Eve, we're in a Wendy's drive-thru right now. What do you want to eat?"

What?  I just woke up. Actually, you just shook me awake.  Do YOU want Wendy's when you're asleep? If you answer yes to that, I have a list of doctors you need to go see.  I wasn't the most coherent and I think I babbled a little bit.  He just yelled back at the box that takes orders that we'd go inside. 

So here I am.  Half asleep and eating a spicy chicken sandwich.  Across from me is my friend Emma eating a baked potato.  To my right is my friend Willy eating a burger with his nails painted and barefoot.  To my right diagonal is my friend Van eating a burger like it was going out of style.  Was I still dreaming?  How could this be reality?  The only clue I had to my consciousness was the nasty aftertaste and oversaltiness of the fries.  And the fact that everyone at my table was trying to convince me that I was still asleep.

I came up with a new logo.  More accurate.

We ate and left.  The long road to Tennessee was still apparent. We drove into Thursday morning and arrived to the campsite significantly later than expected.

Day 3: Thursday

Remember what time we left on Wednesday?  10am.  I'll remind you.  We pulled into our spot on the farm at 6am.  20 hours.  Google Maps said 15 hours.  But I suppose Google Maps wasn't anticipating a watermelon gypsy and spicy chicken to slow us down.  Oh, it did.  We waited in line for about an hour and a half to get in, the amount of cars was ridiculous.  It was during this time that fatigue was truly setting in.  Guys, we put the watermelon in time out.  I think that's all I need to say about that.  

I have yet to describe the tent we brought.  If you had to rate tents in a similar manner as houses, this tent would be the 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom house with the beachfront patio facing the west for the perfect sunset every night.  This tent was a monster.  We pulled up to our spot and bolted out of the car.  In a place like Bonnaroo, you have to claim what is yours and make it known.  We laid out the tent and people stared at us in awe.  It took about 15 minutes to set up, and after the whole thing was said and done, it was safe to say that we had the biggest tent on the block.  I feel asleep instantaneously and woke up two hours later to a dead phone and a body covered in sweat.  It gets hot very early in the morning in Tennessee, something I forgot about.  We were up early just because you couldn't sleep in the heat.

I went to charge my phone on my laptop, but in the midst of the hectic packing on Wednesday morning I forgot to shut off my laptop.  I was phoneless for 4 days.  My mother probably had an aneurysm.  We all get dressed, my hair gets braided and I slap a baseball cap on backwards.  Automatic bro status.  I then begin to slather on sunscreen.  In four days, we went through an entire family-size bottle.  That's how you know it's real.

We went around and explored for a bit, there weren't any bands we really wanted to see on Thursday so we took the opportunity to regroup and get everything situated.  Walking to Centeroo (the main shebang), you passed a ton of food vendors.  Seriously if you craved any food it was there.  My diet consisted of peanut butter and strawberry jam triple decker sandwiches, chicken kabobs, and arrepas.  More details on that later.  There was a sack race.

It was documented.

We explored before Centeroo opened.  We just chilled on the outskirts for a little and then went back to our campsite.  We organized our stuff, chilled, talked, planned out the weekend, etc.  Oh and then we all fell asleep at like 9pm.  Thursday.  A day of sleep.  We knew that we were camels that day.  Sleep was our water, and we knew it would be few and far between afterwards.  How right we were.

Day 4: Friday

Friday. Oh my god. To quote a modern-day philosopher: "Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday."  What an incredible day it was.  We all woke up around 8:30, looked at each other, and collectively decided that showers were best for all of us.  We didn't realize there were showers right near us, so we searched for about 20 minutes for ones without crazy-long lines.  We finally did.  Showers cost money, but Garnier Fructis was there giving out shampoo and conditioner.  Plus, in the heat, all you wanted to do was wash your body.  I can tell you that I've never been happier to spend money than I was in that moment.  Let me try to describe a cold shower to you in the heat of summer in Tennessee.  Actually, I can't.  I heard angels sing.  I saw Jesus.  I think I'll only feel that much happiness again on my wedding day.  Or when they finally decide to stop making Madagascar movies (I'm looking at you, Madagascar 3).

I get dressed in as little clothes as I am comfortable in and set off.  Sunblock is heavily applied and we head into Centeroo for the first time.  We go under this huge arch and scan our bracelets for entry.  This was the first day of music.

Friday's Lineup

Two Door Cinema Club

The Punch Brothers

The Avett Brothers

Feist

Ludacris (LOVE HIM)

St. Vincent

Sara Watkins

Radiohead

Yes, that child has soiled his pants.  I hope you did too.

I hope you've heard of some of these guys.  For the ones you haven't check them out.  I'm serious.  Every single act I went to was incredible.  I can't even believe how awesome the shows were.  Two Door Cinema Club? Awesome.  Punch Brothers? Surprisingly catchy.  Avett Brothers? Caught them towards the end, but they were great.  Feist? Incredible.  LUDACRIS? HAVE MY CHILDREN.  St. Vincent? Meh. Sara Watkins?  Unknown, but should be known.  That woman is unbelievable.  Radiohead? Do I even need to say anything about Radiohead? No. No words can describe that show.

Friday was hot as hell though, perhaps the worst day in my opinion.  I kept reapplying sunblock because I'm a Dutch-Irish woman who tends to turn more into the color of a cooked lobster than golden brown.  I'm not sure if you've ever worn a ridiculous amount of sunblock in very hot weather, but let me describe the feeling to you.

I'd like to begin this rant by telling you the brand of sunblock we used: Banana Boat Sport Performance SPF 50.  Pretty intense.  Also, I bought this stuff because it said non-greasy.  NON-GREASY MY ASS.  Oh child, you wait for the simile that's coming.

[via overstockdrugstore]

I'd like to point out that in 90 degree heat, people tend to sweat a lot.  Now, I'm going to assume that 99% of you readers have never collected a jar of your sweat and mixed it with sunblock.  If you have, I have a list of doctors that you can see to discuss your mental illness.  If you have, then that's what went down on my body.

Note: the following simile was crafted not entirely from my brain.  I had help from a friend.

Imagine you're sitting in a kiddie pool. You know, the ones from everyone's childhood?  The little blow-up ones with patterns of cute fish and seahorses?  Sit in that, in your head.  Okay, you're chilling in the sun and you smell the sweet smell of frying bacon.  You open your eyes and take a look around.  What is this?! The kiddie pool you're sitting in is surrounded completely by George Foreman grills?  What kind of world is this? You hear sizzling and prop one open to see what's on order.  Every grill is full of bacon.  And all of that bacon fat is draining into the kiddie pool you're sitting in.  Rub that bacon fat on you, and now you understand what my skin felt like when I sweat with sunblock on.  

Friday was also the day that I had my first arrepa.  Do you know how damn DELICIOUS those things are? No words.  To explain it in the most basic terms, arrepas are basically grilled cheese sandwiches.  But, instead of bread it's cornbread pancakes.  But, instead of American or Cheddar cheese it's mozzarella. People. Listen up. I wish I could tell you how happy these make me.  I can't.  It was like the cold shower, but a hot sandwich/afternoon snack delight.  I'll probably make them by hand at some point this summer, so watch out for that post.

Day 5: Saturday

I woke up Saturday covered in sweat, per usual.  What's new?  The shower line was a little long, so we all decided to take ghetto showers with a gallon jug, some shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and some good ol' fashioned ingenuity.  Please understand that I don't own a bathing suit, so this was especially difficult.  I 'showered' in my pajamas, AKA a wifebeater and pair of pajama pants rolled up to my knees.  I ended up exposing my legs to the world after drenching my pants to the point where they were falling off. Sorry to the folks who had to witness me in just underwear.  I'll pay for therapy sessions if you desire.

Pure luxury at its finest.
[via getactivegourban]

Anyway, after the most time-intensive/public shower of my life I slapped on a bro tank and we headed out for another fun-filled day of music.  It was another beautiful, hot sunny day.

Saturday's Lineup

Das Racist

The Punch Brothers

Hey Rosetta!

Santigold

Mogwai

The Roots

Dispatch

Red Hot Chili Peppers

At this point, I laid down in the grass and looked up into the puffy blue sky.  It was then that I asked myself: did I just die and go to heaven?  I'm listening to some of the best music in the world with friends that I'm growing closer and closer to everyday.  Oh, and I only have a minor sunburn.  If I had to compare my skin color to a Behr sample of paint, I'd say it was a safe Duchess Rose.

Freckles began to emerge from the depths of my skin, and soon enough I was covered in them.  Who gets freckles ON THEIR EYELIDS?! Apparently me.  Oh, and my lips.  Did I mention I get freckles? Because it's ridiculous.We only found one person that had more freckles than me, and girl let me tell you that she took the cake.  I would definitely be second though.  

Back to the music.  Das Racist was hysterical.  We went to see the Punch Brothers again because we had a die-hard fan in our gang. CoughEMMACough.  Hey Rosetta! was pretty great.  They're Canadian, so there were a lot of Canadian flags being used as capes for that concert.  Check them out for sure.  We caught the tail end of Santigold, but she was incredible live.  Mogwai (I didn't know about them until we went) put on such a good show.  Ridiculous, actually.  The Roots were awesome, and so was Dispatch.  I was raised on the Red Hot Chili Peppers, so seeing them live pulled at my heart just a little bit.  It was nice to hear songs that I've known since second grade being performed live.  

It was on Saturday that we did the rain dance.  I can't remember for the life of me which show it was during, but we were all kind of dancing around when one of us just thought it would be a good idea to dance around our friend.  Here we are, literally hopping, skipping, and grooving around our friend Willy.  He turns on his video camera at some point.  Somewhere in Canada exists footage of me doing a rain dance.  However, there was this dude (obviously under the influence of something) and he wanted in on the dance.  So he just joined us.  No words.  Just, joined on into the dance.  We were whatever about it, it's not like he was going bath salts or anything crazy like that.  Afterwards, he was just so happy.  He reached out to give me a hug.  Now, on the outside he didn't look soaking wet.  But as SOON as his body touched mine, I was drenched.  Have you ever seen Along Came Polly? If so, you know what I'm talking about.  If not: just watch this, please.  

Oh yes.  Just like that.

I ate another arrepa I'm pretty sure. I also got a chicken kabob.  Oh baby.

Day 6: Sunday

I awake to the pitter-patter of rain on the tent.  I'm cold for once.  What?  Did we teleport to Syracuse?  Why is it cold and rainy?

Oh god. It couldn't be.
[via thenarrative.net]

DID THE RAIN DANCE ACTUALLY WORK. WHAT THE HELL. THAT WAS JUST FOR FUN, I REALLY DIDN'T EXPECT RAIN TO COME OUT OF IT. 

The rain dance worked, kids.  Luckily, the rain only went on until around 10am, so everything was pretty dry once the concerts started.  The cool air also let us sleep in a little longer than usual, always a plus.  I took a real shower on Sunday, figuring it would be the last one until I get home.  By this time I had perfected the art of opening trial-size packets of shampoo and conditioner with my teeth.  I also didn't care that hoards of women probably saw me completely naked because the shower curtain didn't quite close all the way.  As previously mentioned, I am willing to pay for therapy sessions.

I slammed down a triple decker PB&J (so freaking good), packed our bags, and headed off to Centeroo one last time.

Sunday's Lineup

Grouplove

City and Colour

The Beach Boys

The Antlers

Ben Folds Five

Bon Iver

The Shins

Young the Giant

fun.

Phish

Sunday was also pretty ballin' in the music department.  It wasn't sticky hot, either so you could actually take the time to listen to everything without wondering how vile you looked/smelled.  It was refreshing.  Grouplove was good, we only stayed for a few songs.  City and Colour was awesome live.  They played The Girl, and my heart turned into a stick of butter on a stovetop (it melted, if you didn't understand my metaphor).  The Beach Boys (still alive, surprisingly) were great.  They sounded just like they used to.  I thought it was pretty funny when you looked at the stage and they guys were just playing their instruments without really moving.  Rheumatoid Arthritis, for you.  We didn't stay long for The Antlers, but they were great when we saw them.  Ben Folds Five was incredible (not to mention funny) live.  Bon Iver made me literally pee myself.  The Shins were also awesome.  We only caught the last song of fun's, but they sounded really good live.  They had a huge crowd.  Phish was awesome, too.  They closed the entire show with a 4 hour set.  Young the Giant was...oh Young the Giant.  They were awesome live.  I love Young the Giant.  They played a very special song that really spoke to me.

IT'S LIKE MURDER SHE WROTE.  R Kelly.  His lyrics appear to be taken directly from the depths of my soul.  And to have Young the Giant perform them...sweet baby Jesus.

It was a bittersweet moment to leave Centeroo for the last time.  The weekend flew by, but we did so much.  So, as we walked under the Bonnaroo arch for the last time, back to our tent to leave for Syracuse I did some reflecting.

I had an awesome time at Bonnaroo. I think that the people I went with really made that experience the best possible.  I feel like I've only grown closer to the friends I went with.  We were with each other every waking moment, but it didn't seem like that was the case.  We worked well together and I think that was one of my favorite parts of the trip.  So, to the friends I went to 'Roo with (I'm talking to you, Willy, Emma and Van): thank you.  I can't really verbalize how much I appreciated spending time with each of you.

We got back to the car, everything all packed up.  Watermelondrea was sitting on the ground half-eaten.  What to do with her?  Obviously our delusional minds decided it would be best to run her over.  Don't even ask, we were all sleep deprived at this point.  We tried to run over that damn watermelon at least four times. Apparently that Walmart watermelon gypsy did cast a spell on the watermelon.  It was indestructible.  We eventually gave up because of the long car ride ahead.  We said our goodbyes to our campsite and to Bonnaroo as a whole and blasted Kanye West's All of the Lights.


Day 6: Monday
After driving for about 1.5 hours, true fatigue started kicking in.  We decided that it would be best to stay in a hotel and get some actual sleep, in an actual bed. What's a bed? What's plumbing? That's when you know you've been away from civilization for a while.  I pulled off the highway and we found a Quality Inn in Randomville, TN.  No, that's not the actual town name, I just don't remember the actual town.  We saw the sign for a hot breakfast and we knew it was destiny.  Mind you, at this point it's around 1:30am.

We open the door and this dude who looks like the lovechild of Lurch and Macaulay Culkin greet us behind a plate of glass.  We check in, all the while fighting off a gigantic moth who was obviously trying to get in our room with us.  We battled him off though, in the form of dance.  Let's just say that I whipped out some moves the world has never seen before. The moth left out of respect.

GET TO STEPPIN'
[via flickriver]

We walk around the bend and enter our hotel room.  I think anything would've looked luxurious after sleeping in a tent, and this hotel room had a golden aura.  We all crawled into bed and fell asleep.  We got a wake-up call from Macaulurch and groggily went to get some of dat free hot breakfast.  I had an English muffin and fruit loops, it wasn't the best breakfast in town.  It was something, I suppose.

We set out on the long trip back to our respective homes and drove through the night.  We talked a lot about life, love, and everything in between.  We saw a double rainbow on the way back (the icing on the cake of the trip).  We stopped to get gas, a coffee here and there, and at a Chipotle.  Oh Chipotle.  We were ten seconds from going to a Golden Corral, but it closed as soon as we tried to open the doors. Bastards.  What I would've done to a buffet.  You have no idea.

Day 7: Tuesday

We pulled up in Buffalo around 1am.  We dropped off our friend Van and said our goodbyes.  The next stop was my house in Syracuse, arrival time 3:30am.  Stab me.  It was also raining, which added to the excitement of being tired and driving at night on the highway.  I had faith in Olmec to carry us home.  The time flew by, we talked about a lot of things that only seem to be talked about when you're really tired.  We get to my house around 3:45-4am.  Obviously we went to sleep as soon as we could become horizontal.  I woke up four hours later to take Emma to the bus station, surprisingly alert.  I whipped up some breakfast for her and said goodbye at the bus station.  After that, I woke up Willy (and by woke up I mean demanded that he becomes awake or else he'll miss his damn flight).  Made some more breakfast and took him to the airport.

I bopped around the house a little bit afterwards, not really knowing what do with myself.  A friend came over and she helped me unload the disaster of the car.  I sat on the couch at 7:30 that night and woke up at 7am the next day.  Oh yes.  I've been catching up on sleep ever since.  I think I'm good now, though. Alas

To sum up the experience, I would do it again in a heartbeat.  Obviously plans would be tweaked with the knowledge that I have now, but I had the time of my life at Bonnaroo.  I didn't realize how much fun I really had until it was over and looked back.  So much music, so many good times.  If you're ever thinking of going, let me know (I'll hook you up).  

To the friends who I went with, thank you again.  To the dude who rain danced with us, please go see a dentist.  To the watermelon gypsy, please work on making humans indestructible.  To my van, thank you for not breaking down.  To everyone who took the time to read this entire post, I commend your patience and reading skills.