Our plan this fine night as the concert got closer was to stick with one type of alcohol--vodka; but like all the best of intentions, it quickly went out the window. Partied a bit beforehand, but nothing like our marathon session the day before. By the time we headed out for the show, I had a pleasant base buzz from which to build upon. If it were possible, the security this night was even more lax. They didn’t even check for our tickets. We could have driven a beer truck in. How fucking awesome would that have been!? Paul immediately went to the concession stand and bought a half dozen sodas to mix our vodka with. In retrospect, I sit here wondering why we didn’t just bring in our own cups and a couple of two liter bottles.
So there we are, Dennis, Paul, and myself. The sky was lit up a brilliant blue, the temperature hovering in the eighties, we were surrounded by majestic peaks on all sides. Throngs of people danced to the music in their heads (the show had not started yet) or played Frisbee or hacky sack, or just sat and talked. It was a festival and I was soaking it all in. The buzz was starting to build as we drank more and smoked some community joints. I somehow had the ability to suspend my germ phobias whilst drinking because if I’d been straight, I would never put a joint to my lips after passing anyone’s lips, especially some of the wookies that were passing them around. (Wookies are unkempt hippies that generally tour with the band. Something I would have been had I not had a family.)
There we three sat, laughing, and talking on our small blanket when this younger guy came across our path.
“Mushrooms?” he asked.
“Naw, man, we don’t have any,” I told him.
He looked at us a little funny, then must have realized we started partying a few hours ago. “No, I’ve got some,” he said.
I looked over at Paul. This had not been on the agenda at all. I turned to Dennis, who had no clue what was happening. He appeared to be checking out a sweet, little honey twirling around in a yellow sundress.
“Sure,” Paul said.
And then I thought something went wrong with the whole conversation, because the guy pulled out two Cadbury Easter Eggs from his knapsack.
My ever tactical self spoke up. “What the hell are those things?”
Paul paid him twenty dollars.
Dennis turned just as Paul got the eggs in hand. “Awesome man, I’m starving!” Dennis grabbed one from Paul’s hand and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. Paul started laughing. I was still confused.
“Hey, ris rastes funky,” Dennis said, still chewing.
“Here, wash it down with this,” Paul said, handing him a fresh drink.
Dennis gulped it down. “Where’d you get those? I think they were old or something.”
“Dude, you just dosed,” Paul said, still laughing.
“What?” I asked before Dennis could.
“The guy cooked up the mushrooms into the chocolate,” Paul explained.
“I just ate mushrooms?” Dennis asked, taking a large gulp of his drink and then turning back to watch the yellow sundress twirl.
“Shall we?” Paul asked, splitting the remaining egg in half.
“Why not?” I said shoving my piece into my mouth.
“Down the rabbit hole,” Paul said.
Twenty minutes later, there was very little that did not completely mesmerize me. Blades of grass became primordial jungles. The mountains were the great mountain barrier of the north that protected us from the hordes of Orcs that waited on the other side. The occasional cloud that drifted over became a message from the gods themselves. Dennis, at some point, had started to twirl with Yellow Sundress. It was funny trying to figure out which of them was further out there. By this time, stage hands had started some music through the PA system. I found myself encapsulated in the eclectic blend of music they played. Paul and I laughed at times so hard that tears would stream from our faces. I knew at least I was having a hard time keeping my equilibrium,
The sun, as if on cue, hid behind the tallest peak just as Widespread came onto the stage. Again, in retrospect, I’m sure the timing had more to do with the band than the sun, maybe. Yellow Sundress had at some point twirled away, possibly upwards. Dennis came back to share our small blanket as we grooved like only three middle-aged, white men can--horribly. But we didn’t care and nobody else did for that matter. We were havin’ a good time and that was what it was all about. At some point, the band or possibly a concert-goer told us that Widespread was going to play an extended show because the previous night had been cut short. That was fine with me. Anything that extended the magic of the night was A-okay!
We had not gotten as close to the stage as we would have liked, but we did at least try to get in as strategically placed an area as possible. We were immediately to the left of the soundstage. I did that on purpose so that we would have a point of reference to come back to. We were in a field with thousands of other people with no formal seating and we were wasted. Finding a particular person in that kind of environment is not the easiest thing to accomplish. Think Wal-Mart at Christmas time times ten.
After the first set break, there was the mass exodus to the portable toilets and the various food and beverage vendors. The johns were about a hundred and fifty yards straight back from us and the vendors were maybe two hundred yards back and to the left as we turned to look at them. Might as well have been five miles in the state we were in. Dennis volunteered to lay claim on the blanket while Paul and I made our way out to the head. I think he wanted to stay back because the task looked entirely too daunting when you looked over the sea of heads. I can’t say I blamed him. If I’d had the foresight to wear Depends and just go in my adult diapers, I would have. Don’t scoff at me!
There were lines, but they weren’t horrible. The worst part was tripping your trees off and then going into the small confines of a blue, plastic shell that smelled of piss and chemicals. Shit, yeah, that was the bad part. At one point, I thought I might be trapped by my bladder. If I had a watch, I think I might have set a world record for longest piss. I got so tired of standing, I leaned against the side. I will neither confirm nor deny that at some point, I might have missed the little side toilet. Give me a break! The thing is the size of a kidney, and I was swaying like I was in gale-force winds. At least, I didn’t get any on the ceiling to drip down on the next person.
I thankfully stumbled out from the head, now feeling like I had been reborn. Paul was nowhere in sight. I could tell I was still smiling from ear to ear because my cheeks were burning from the muscle contraction.
“You done, man?” someone asked, trying to get past me and into the toilet.
“What?” I said trying to focus on his/her face, I’m pretty sure it was a guy. That would be good because he’d understand about not being able to aim correctly. I still got out of there though before he maybe called me on it.
Even over the PA, I heard him. “Why is there piss all over the place? Am I stepping in piss?” he yelled, as I evacuated the area.
I gleefully headed over to the beer tent, because that sounded like just about the best thing on the planet. Still no Paul, but I was keeping myself some really good company.