Posts Tagged ‘retrospective’
We’ll see how far into this I get. Since I’m blogging for my own personal record, the pressure’s kind of off to be either thorough or entirely factual. The account that follows may be more truthful than factual. Take that however you want to.
After work on Thursday, I drove out to see Dave Lowery and John Hickman play their acoustic set. I wasn’t expecting much at first -I was early for Cracker- but almost all the members of Camper were up on stage doing their own acoustic band thing and they were really good. If you’ve never been to Pappy and Harriet’s, I need to set a little stage for you … specifically, about 4″ of stage off the ground. The musicians are really there in the crowd playing only a few feet from the front row (I have to imagine that it’s a little awkward playing there at first).
Some friends showed up and we moved to the front between sets. Like, really really really the front.
And then Hickman came out and did a set just by himself. He’s all smiles. He seemed to be having a really nice time during the set and I could see the sheer enjoyment of the experience of playing music for an enthusiastic crowd. It’s hard not to feel like you know him since he’s so accessible and friendly. And he was really amazing. It was the first time I had seen any of them live, so it was amazing to hear the components of my favorite band deconstructed into their individual parts… and here was the phenomenal guitar of John Hickman playing right in front of me. Which led right into…
… Dave Lowery. As I mentioned, I’d never seen Cracker live and I’d only seen photos of Dave Lowery in concerts. He’s not the most, ah, um… “excited” person I’ve ever seen live. Basically, it seems like he’s an incredibly shy person who just loves to do his songs without a lot of socialization or showiness.
But they started playing and -I hope this isn’t heresy- it was like a pilgrimage to see them… all the driving, all the money, all the effort… it was all suddenly worth it for those few acoustic songs when I was so close to the stage, just hearing their perfect and unamplified set.
And then it was over. I was stunned and stood around for a few minutes talking with Arlette and Justin and Beth, and meeting Judy, Arlette’s friend, who would later turn out to play the most central role in the whole weekend… but that’s later.
And that later will have to be tomorrow, since it’s bed time now.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
That was an amazing event. No… actually… screw the event.
That was an amazing family reunion.
I’m back at work and am double busy and come back facing increased responsibilities, lots more work, and a very relieved team. Doods, they’re making me a manager! Of humans! So I’ve been busy.
It’s not possible to tell you how much I appreciate everything from the wild times at Prom and with the Midnight Ridaazzz (btw, Tackett, did you mean the Jim Beam bukake?) to the serious times of emotional trainwreck on seeing the Ex (thanks, LuMi, Pete, and everyone who had to deal with my freakin’ mess) and going to the med tent to prevent the dirt nap (thanks, Connie Lynne) and my heterosexual life partner (for life, really!), Kathleen. It just isn’t possible to put it into words, even though I fancy myself a writer and even though I remember most of it.
The bar was amazing. Slinky, you did the most amazing job ever. Bob and JP, the buffalo was a perfect touch. Terry… holy fucking shit. The bar. I tested! It works!! And Ellen, thanks for providing me with the single most horrifying father-daughter moment ever. Really. It was bonding. And the sound system… HEY! I actually was able to figure it out and the music was GREAT! Thanks so much, Bunnies!
And Prom… Prom was more than just a night to regret. It was a night to really, really, really, really regret.
Here we are, regretting the fuck out of that night! Splat, the photobooth was a-freakin’-mazing.
And in all seriousness, there was something magic about that night. Even though there were a lot of strangers, everyone was family. Everyone was there and it was so wonderful. I can only hope those brain cells don’t die of abuse in the future, because the memories are just golden.
Speaking of golden… the year of non-consensual watersports is OVER, people. I won’t be peeing in anyone’s hands, ears, mouths, cups, or ANYTHING. Go ahead and beg, but it’s not happening.
The DFTs, Ea-cuP-Tea, KAOS… christ, people. I thought only we were as cool as us, but now I realize that you’re all totally USome and you’re one of us. Jake, I still cry when I think about the rose.
New mayors, Connie-Lynne and Dana, yes… I do need rape awareness training. Sorry for, um, whatever I did that I’m not admitting to and that you’ll only become aware of much, much later. Feel free to call me any time, day or night, and blubber (or ask advice). Thanks for letting me puke on your shoes. Pass it on.
And mostly, Jet. Man, I had no idea the depth and breadth of your awesomeness. Yes, I knew you were the best and freakin’ amazing, but I never thought that out of this whole process would come one of the most rewarding and wonderful partnerships I’ve ever been part of. I know you’d never use words like this, but I feel so blessed to even know you, let alone be one of your closest friends, let alone have MY URINE IN YOUR MOUTH. Truly, it’s love. I can’t wait to work with you on projects that have nothing to do with Burning Man… like finishing that pitcher of beer over there.
To everyone I haven’t mentioned in this email (and there are several dozen), it wouldn’t have been the amazing adventure that it was without you. The fact that I’m at work prohibits me from continuing this email further, but do know that just because you’re not called out by name doesn’t mean that I won’t call on our shared stories the minute someone asks about my _____est moment at Burning Man.
Thanks for everything. Srsly.
And I’m going off email for a while, so if you need to reach me, call or txt my cell
Loving you is easy ’cause you’re beautiful…