Walking Disaster for the following Friday, and that I was free to take the next day off to head up to the festival.
Everything I could have ever dreamed of was happening.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As much as I loved concerts, festivals weren’t really my thing. They reminded me of the Indiana State Fair when I was a kid. Hot, dusty, and crowded. Worse, they seemed geared more toward socializing and partying than appreciating the music.
As I dragged my carry-on from Boston’s T station to the park, I remembered why I avoided these things. Way too many concertgoers crowded the main entrance. I studied the map with mounting anxiety. Multiple bands would play simultaneously on three outdoor stages plus inside an arena. The fear of missing out would make me crazy, even though I wouldn’t have even come if not to see one specific band.
I relaxed, knowing that at least for one show, I wouldn’t need to fight the crowds. Theater of the Absurd would be headlining tonight on one of the bigger outdoor stages, and I’d have an up-close experience.
Speaking of experiences, for the first time in my life, I got to stop at Will Call. The woman working the booth fingered her way through a stack of envelopes until she found one with my name in fat, black sharpie. She circled my map with instructions on where I should go since I no longer needed to follow the cattle herd of non-VIP regulars.
Inside the envelope, I found a plastic badge attached to a lanyard that I looped around my neck. I texted Shane to let him know I’d arrived. Then I headed toward a smaller gate around the backside of one of the stages. Flashing my badge gained me access to this more private area where the people rushing about had a totally different vibe from the front entrance. Roadies carried equipment. Apparent musicians lounged, smoking cigarettes or drinking beer. A smattering of folks like me dotted the landscape with their VIP badges, but they all came across as cool and collected. Like this was all normal. I was about to scream with joy.
I suddenly had the presence of mind to get out my camera and start snapping pictures. I’d need to document this at least for myself. Possibly for the blog.
“There she is!” An arm draped over my shoulder, and I reached up to take Shane’s hand before turning and breathing him in.
“You smell like summer.”
“Like a week on the road more likely.” He tugged at me. “Come on, Star Shine. We’re set up around one of the other stages.”
The never-ending beating of drums pervaded the atmosphere. The music was loud, but somehow muffled or muted behind the stage. It was like listening to someone’s stereo from a floor below. I could pick out the guitar licks and bass lines easily enough, but the vocals only came through sporadically. The occasional crowd cheers were loud and clear.
We had to weave around various obstacles and groups of people until we approached a safari tent behind yet another stage. Inside, I discovered air conditioning, food, drinks, and Noah asleep on a beach chair.
“Rick’s gone into the city to do some kind of historical tour. Micah’s sleeping on the bus. Noah and I had been planning to go listen to a few of the bands, but I guess he’s out. What do you want to do?”
I looked around at the scene. It was so not rock-n-roll. I’d imagined getting backstage access for so long, but I’d pictured it like a scene from Spinal Tap where posh women and desperate groupies vied for attention. This looked more like summer camp.
“Who did you want to see?”
He pulled a folded-up guide from his back pocket and handed it over. “These are the bands playing right now.”
I didn’t recognize half the bands on the list. “You choose.”
We spent the next couple of hours wandering aimlessly from stage to stage. Loyal fans had probably staked out a place by the stage, forced to sit through countless acts in anticipation for their own favorite, but plenty of people casually hung out like me and Shane, enjoying the moment for what it was, listening to the music, swaying along, entertained by the spectacle. I’d never experienced any concert or festival like this, with one hand in the pocket of a guy who made the moment feel special. Who made me feel special.
A couple of times, Shane ran into people who knew him, usually other musicians or the occasional tech