Maniacal Mantra

And down the stretch they come....

2011-02-11T06:19:00.000-08:00

Apologies for the 60 day delay in completing the Great Minnesota Snake Adventure story. Since returning home we have endured countless snow events, the Holidays, more snow events, and the start of basketball season. But over the weekend I was able to catch a chance to visit with Minne, the precious beastie we delivered all the way from St. Cloud. She is quite complacent in her new habitat, and enjoying being a Tennessean now. Having visited with her snapped me back into tune with the road trip, so now, the conclusion of The Great Minnesota Snake Adventure....

We arrived in sleepy St. Cloud around 1am, Friday, December 10th after diving 1,065 miles since leaving Sevierville around 6am. Due to weather and road conditions we had not established any sort of commitments to accommodations, as we were uncertain how far fatigue and weather issues would permit us to get. At some point around 9pm when we made a fuel stop in Wisconsin rumours began to circulate that the highway patrol intended to close the interstate due to icing issues. We began debating whether to make arrangements to board up there at Wisconsin Dells, or strike on for as far as the state troopers would allow. With the primary objective being arriving at St. Cloud and acquiring the beastie, we grabbed some Red Bull and forged on, daring the state of Wisconsin to stop us at their own peril! After several furious, white knuckle hours of driving in an all out blizzard we hit the Minnesota state line, and a break in the storm. From there on in to St. Cloud was pleasant, albeit tiresome. The last hour or so of the blizzard we found rejuvenation in the form of a classic Country & Western radio station, belting out Hank Williams Sr., Patsy Cline, Bill Monroe, and a host of Grand Ole Opry legends. Mind you, it isn't my typical musical selection, but when faced with the monotony of white out conditions since Chicago, it was a nice interruption to our routines to hear the old stuff for a change of pace. As we neared Minneapolis the sounds of Old Nashville faded out of range, and our new priority became landing somewhere for the night. The primary factor in our selection was distance to location of snake, which would determine how much time we would need the next morning to find their house. After searching around, we found several hotels where within 10 miles of the address for the snake. At 1am we hit the parking lot of a Days Inn, and I began intense negotiations for an agreement on what I was willing to pay for 6 hours sleep. After about 6 minutes of bantering, I and the bleary eyed host of Pakistani origins determined $45 was the take it or leave it cost for a few hours of rest. Another Red Bull and I might have badgered them down to $25, but I was already on the ropes so I caved in.

The next morning we bolted out the door at 7am to close in on our objective. With the aid of the GPS, and the spot on directions of John, the fine Minnesotan we were meeting to transfer ownership of the beastie from, we arrived at our destination. It wasn't until we had secured the Jeep in John's garage that I realized how weather worn our ride had become. The once light green hue of the ole Cherokee was now a frosty white haze barely recognizable to its original form. We were now approximately 26 hours from leaving home, and despite the weather and traffic obstacles, we had made it. As much as I had prepared for the mission, once I actually laid eyes on the beastie in person it took my breath for a moment. I had been fighting a cold since the day before we left, and the fatigue of the mileage the day before was wearing me down. Seeing an 18 foot, 250 pound Burmese Python face to face took my legs out from in under me for a bit. Our host, John, a retired law enforcement and paramedic quickly diagnosed my condition, and scrambled upstairs to fetch me a remedy. John missed his calling, he should have been a Doctor/Pharmacist, cause he cured my ills right fast! I went from flat footed terror mixed with a borderline flu to bouncing around John's basement hugging the beastie and trying to reassure her she would be fine. After a quick review of her handling and care we wrestled her into the canvas bag that would be her mobile habitat. The critical component to her care is maintaining a temperature of 85 degrees or higher. The terrain we would be covering bare no resemblance to the tropics, so we retrofitted the cargo bay of the Cherokee to replicate the warmest climate possible. John scattered about a dozen packets of hot hands around the piles of blankets we had arranged for her. We cranked the heat as high as it would go, then lumbered the heavy canvas bag into the cargo bay. From a distance it must have appeared we were hauling a dead body out of John's basement, and I imagined by the time we opened the garage door the entire police force of tranquil little St. Cloud would be distributed guns drawn to confront an alleged homicide. I suppose the wear and tear of the hard miles, the hazy residue of multiple cold remedies and energy drinks, and the effects of John's remedy had me a little delusional, because we had no surprises once the garage door rose. We bid our host a fond farewell, and promised to some day meet again when we had more time to actually visit and learn more of John's fascinating story. But for now, it was time to score some breakfast and then roast the pavement toward Springfield, Illinois. We took John's recommendation and checked out the Copper Lantern. It was FANTASTIC! From there Bobby took the wheel for a while, and I pondered the logistics of smuggling a 250 pound Python into a first class luxury Hilton in Springfield. I was fairly certain that not only was the hotel limited in it's "pet friendly" accommodations, the idea of an 18 foot Burmese Python was completely incomprehensible to the establishment's management staff. I had plenty of time and nothing of consequence to distract me through the vast nothingness of Iowa.

Somewhere in the neighborhood of 7ish we crept into the pristine surroundings of Springfield, massive beastie riding comfortably in the cargo bay. What I hadn't counted on as we lurched into the driveway of the Springfield Hilton was the startling presence of Valet parking and a Bell Hop. I am accustomed to the spartan, pedestrian service of your run of the mill Super8. Out of professional courtesy, I had obliged the hospitality of my good friend and owner of the opulent Springfield Hilton, since he had insisted on accommodating us with a complementary room on our journey. I had not disclosed the nature of our adventure, only sharing the ambiguous detail that we were "picking something up off Craig's List for Bobby" as the reason for the road trip. At this point I was driving, thus I was the one charged with making up a firm reason this courteous young lad could neither park the Jeep, or take hand of our belongings as was his duty and responsibility. He was rather insistent on performing his assigned task, claiming it was Hilton policy to afford every guest the highest level of customer service. I wanted to explain that I was sure he probably wasn't presently earning "hazardous duty pay", and I would feel real bad if our very hungry, cranky from 572 miles of pot hole infested Iowa ate him. But I doubted that would be the most advantageous strategy. So I simply explained that I would have absolutely none of that, I was getting a free room, in a wonderful hotel, and I just couldn't accept having someone else expend the energy to carry my belongings. After what seemed an eternity, someone in a Mercedes pulled up behind us and began laying on the horn for me to get my salt covered, nasty heap out of his way. I dismissed the chap to get about his duties for that fellow instead, I would see to my junk alone. Sometimes it is handy to have some jerk like the guy in the Mercedes around I suppose. Once inside the expanse of the parking garage we prowled around until we discovered a secluded, dimly lit space as far from other cars as we could manage. Bobby decided to stay and keep the beastie company while I trudged into the plush, formal surroundings of a 5 Star luxury hotel. I can see why they were very insistent on managing the transport of my belongings, because this place is so massive it took me two flights of stairs, two elevators, twelve drunken convention goers, and three wings of the hotel to get from the car to the front desk. Once I arrived at the check in counter I realized what must have been going through the clerks mind. See, I have been working in lodging for twenty years, and have had the privilege of accommodating everything from statesmen, entertainers, folks of well heeled means, all the way to down and out drifters paying me in single dollar bills and loose change. I glanced down at my attire and realized I was most likely falling into the "loose change drifter" category. Better still was the mystery of my room being complimentary, which I feared would produce a more magnified scrutiny. So here I stood, a bleary eyed, sleep deprived, road weary, reeking of beef jerky, pistachios, and flat cheerwine, wearing a rumpled Missouri Football tee shirt and stained Red Sox hat. I had to be severely questionable as to having the financial means, or honorable intentions, worthy of taking board at a refined establishment such as this. Regardless of my appearance and unorthodox encounter with the Valet, I was quickly registered and handed the key card to a complimentary suite on the top floor. I scurried back through the maze to my Jeep, wondering if Bobby would already be partially digested by his new "pet". Having gotten us through the first level of security, I knew we still had a heavy burden ahead getting the Python through the lobby to our room.

We commandeered an abandoned luggage cart, scoped out the surroundings to make certain we weren't being watched, and wrangled the canvas clad beastie and all of our belongings onto the rickety device. My mind was racing through various scenarios as we awkwardly steered the cart through the gauntlet to our room. I imagined hotel security was waiting around every corner, waiting to pounce on us. I pictured being trapped in the elevator with some ill behaved brat poking at the canvas bag, causing Minne to start wriggled about fiercely, and our plot unravelling. We must have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies, two lumbering hicks dressed like vagrants, steering a ramshackle cart loaded down with a cumbersome, wriggling canvas bag, our belongings tied along the shaft in Kroger shopping bags, and a random space heater nestled on top of a pile of blankets, with the shifty eyed look of two delinquents attempting to smuggle a porn magazine out the drug store. Amazingly, we arrived unmolested at our suite and began preparing Minne for her temporary habitat in the palatial lavatory of our room. At this point I am starving, and eager to founder at the Bennigan's downstairs in the lobby. I don't bother to freshen up from the road, since the Python has sprawled the entire length of the bathroom floor, preferring to leave the beastie to some much needed peace and quiet. Downstairs I feast on pot roast, mashed potatoes, and anything else I can get my hands on. Early on in the meal had grand visions of perhaps exploring Springfield since it was still early in the evening. By the time I finish though the many miles and limited sleep begin to take their toll, and we both agree to adjourn to the room. At this point, I would like to share my impression of the fine establishment that is the Springfield Hilton. It certainly had the feel of exclusivity and privilege one might expect from the Hilton chain. With it's unique, rotund style architecture, I felt as though we were exploring the Death Star. Since we were sneaking around where we probably shouldn't have, I felt even more like we were in the Death Star, and a battalion of Storm Troopers were probably already searching for us. On the elevator we were joined by a motley looking character who, like us, had the look of not belonging there. After a few moments, the stranger broke the silence by claiming we had the elevator going up, when he had expected it to be going down. He seemed rather annoyed by this, but then casually offered to sell us some marijuana, as I suppose a gesture of alleviating the strained, weary expressions on our faces. We declined, and he jumped off at the next floor, no doubt looking for someone in need of a prescription. It made me wonder if before the night was over we might be joining this fellow again at the county lock up, both parties guilty of smuggling forbidden contraband into the hotel. I pondered which transgression would garner the stiffest penalty. If the crime were measured by street value, our pal on the elevator was in more trouble, if it were measured by the pound, it was Bobby and I that would be screwed. Anyways, it was by now very urgent to be retiring for the night. We got back to the room, and I decided it would be nice to grab a newspaper, and do a little reading to unwind, and take my mind off of things. I had already took my boots off, so since I was only going as far as the lobby, and I couldn't possibly risk appearing any worse in comparison to the legitimate hotel visitors, I ambled into the elevator in socked feet. Much to my disappointment, there were no newspapers in the lobby. I was advised by one of the Valet attendants that the nearest one was outside, down the block from the hotel entrance. I debated abandoning my quest and returning to the room, but I really wanted a local paper, since it is my custom to familiarize myself with the location whenever visiting a new place. So out into the street I go, a shoeless destitute in uncharted territory, alone. At the end of the block I find a stand of newspaper boxes, all empty. I spy another stand all the way down the back end of the hotel, on the corner of the next block. I have already traveled this far, why not? So I venture across the street and down that block, where I find an ample supply of papers. As I start back I notice over my shoulder a slow approaching car, a beat up baby blue oldsmobile. The passenger window rolls down, and I spot my long lost friend the drug rep from the elevator. He tells me to come over to the car a second, he wants to show me something. I dismiss his request, dart across the street, and scurry back to the secure environs of the hotel. The olds follows me all the way to the entrance, then does a u-turn, and speeds away. I had already decided in my mind if they were going to rob me, I was going to tell them I had a large canvas bag with thousands of dollars stowed away in the lavatory of my suite. I count myself lucky I didn't have to employ that strategy. Once I get back to the room, I abandoned my reading intentions and go straight to sleep.

The next morning we strike out early to again avoid any awkward encounters with the hotel staff. Again we meander the halls with the same rickety luggage cart, having secured it in our room for the night rather than giving it back to the lobby, fearing a shortage in the morning. When I check out at the desk, the clerk advised me that a massive winter storm was bearing down on the area, and it might be a good idea to get back to Tennessee as soon as I can. At first I ponder the notion she seemed very determined to expedite my departure under false pretenses. But when we stop to fuel up down the street we discover a flurry of excitement has consumed the community, and folks are scrambling around gathering vital supplies as if an invading force was just outside the border waiting to besiege them. I asked the store manager what all the fuss was about, and he said the weather folks had them pegged for a storm like no other in a few hours, and they were expecting all manner of catastrophe in it's wake. Both Bobby and I began to realize if these mid westerners, who should be well familiar with snowstorms were petrified, then we best be making haste for home! We passed up on an eat in breakfast, choosing the standard road diet of twinkies and red bull again. We hauled snake butt through the remainder of Illinois, and Kentucky, stopping only for fuel and junk food. We hit Bobby's parent's driveway around 6pm Saturday, having burned up 2,232 miles of asphalt since Thursday morning at 6am. Once I got home, I found out the street prognostications of impending doom had been accurate. The storm everyone had been fearing had struck, dumping enough snow to collapse the roof of the Metrodome in Minneapolis, rendering the Vikings homeless for the rest of the season. It appears we escaped at just the right time, which further gave me a sense of accomplishment. Minne, I am pleased to report, has settled in nicely as Tennessee's newest, and largest known predator, in her habitat at Bobby's house. I check in on her from time to time, and while it is very unlikely, I sense she realizes the bond we share on our quick journey across the frozen terrain of the Midwest.

Whiter shade of pale...

2010-12-10T11:57:00.000-08:00

We are near the Iowa border now, a balmy 23 degrees outside, and at 2pm Minnesota time visibility is very poor due to low hanging clouds and a dismal foggy mist all around. Had an absolutely wonderful breakfast in St. Cloud this morning at the Copper Lantern restaurant. I was treated to some delicious pineapple bratwurst, fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, and french toast. Skipped lunch for obvious reasons. We had zero trouble supplanting the beastie from her glassed in habitat, transferred her into a cozy canvas laundry bag, plied the cargo bay with blankets and hand warmers, and are now keeping the cab of the Jeep at 85 degrees. It is a sauna in this vehicle presently, but the beastie is very quiet and contented. We have a swath of Iowa to press through, then at Moline we cross into Illinois, resting for the night in Springfield if all goes according to plan. Still nothing but endless snow covered farmland the past 27 hours. But it was has been soothing to the soul to get away from home, stretch our limits and capacities to see if we can make our objectives, and course our way through new lands. The sinus flu I sensed coming on last night is now in full bloom, so I choke down as much dayquil and vitamin C as I can stand to try and battle through. It is time for another break from the scorching cabin of the Jeep, till Springfield...

BW

Somewhere in the stark darkness of Wisconsin...

2010-12-09T17:58:00.000-08:00

Well, I took over driving after the madness of a snowy rush hour in Chicago, and had it pretty easy until we crossed over from Illinois into Wisconsin, with a blizzard to contend with for an hour or more in Madison. We are now 800 miles into this journey since leaving Sevierville prior to sunrise, and our GPS display indicates that there are no signs of life on this barren landscape north of nowhere. I am beginning to gain a significant gratitude for the terrain of home. At the last stop, a Subway/BP perilously near the Arctic Circle, there were rumours amongst the grizzled truck drivers littering the joint that I-90 was about to be closed as the pavement begins to ice up. We are determined to press on for the 280 or so miles remaining to the winter hamlet of St. Cloud. If the state troopers here in whatever random cheese community we are treading on want to change our goals, we will comply at their compulsion to stop us.

I would like to say that Indiana is a whole lot of nothingness, save the occasional grain silo, farm house, irrigation device. Whoever is charged with census taking in rural Indiana can essentially complete their business in the span of time it takes to read a comic book. Indianapolis was much smaller than I had expected, you can fit the entire business district in Lucas Oil Stadium.

Chicago was cold, gray, and forboding, but was a welcomed site in comparison to it's cousin Gary, Indiana, situated in it's back yard like some mangy old dog rummaging through the garbage cans behind your garage. On it's best day Gary, Indiana is a scene from some post-apocalyptic movie, and today certainly wasn't one of it's best days. We decided that should we get stranded in Gary due to the car stalling we would dispatch an airstrike and call for a Blackhawk rescue chopper to retrieve us. I have seen restrooms at truckstops that I would prefer to reside in over that place!

I am going to sign off now and pry open another redbull, the lack of anything whatsoever in Wisconsin is making me sleepy...

BW

Great Minnesota Snake Adventure - Day One

2010-12-09T07:51:00.000-08:00

This is my first posting in over 2 years, since my excursion to Manchester in June of '08. I am six hours into our road trip, and I am somewhere in Indiana. So far the trip has been flawless, and other than the sign indicating we crossed the border, Indiana is indistinguishable from Kentucky, excluding the .20 cent jolt upward in fuel prices. Toward Louisville there were a number of beautiful farms, with huddled masses of various Horse breeds. There was about an inch and a half to two inches of snow blanketing the area, but the roads are completely clear. Louisville skyline bares a resemblance to Nashville, but with a lot more iron truss bridges littering it's borderline. Our next Landmark will be Indianapolis, and from there Chicago. We are scrambling to get past Chicago before 4pm, as they have snow in the forecast, and we don't want to get bogged down in that! According to the friendly voice of the GPS device, we should hit Minneapolis around 8:30pm. It feels good to hit the open road, I needed a break, and fetching an 18 foot Burmese Python is a fair enough challenge to compel me to make a break for Minnesota! Time to let the Allman Brothers loose on my speakers for a bit, more info to come later...

BW

Rockin out on final night

2008-06-15T15:54:00.000-07:00

Becca feelin the Bluegrass Band!

23 hours of roo

2008-06-15T03:54:00.000-07:00

Pearl Jam was exceptional. What was scheduled for a 2 hour set turned into a monumental triple encore 3 hour marathon. The crowd was very connected to the music, and the band certainly held up to their end of the bargain. They did an amazing cover of The Who's "Rain on Me" about midways through the 1st set. Then the close of the show after three hours they tore into a powerful cover of Bob Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower". We waited around for the scheduled start of Kanye West's hyped up all glow in the dark special. What we got was a 2 hour delay and a very lame packaged hip hop space musical. The roo'ers momentarily lost their complacent festival spirit since they invested an entire night on this ridiculously over-hyped glamfest that was rumored to feature a grounbreaking glow in the dark performance. The sunrise was breaking about 45 minutes into the "show", and folks had already
lost their patience before Mr. West took the stage. From all I have experienced in my short time it occurs to me that what makes this event such a desirable draw is the genuine, intimate, and inspired acts this venue schedules. I feel like this attempt to mix things up to attract a larger crowd backfired severly. I am running out of steam so I am going to close out for now. I will right some fresher material after a quick nap.

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Spoon haters UNITE!

2008-06-14T18:30:00.000-07:00

I have to say that todays wardrobe choice has drawn more comments than anything else this week. I can't count the number of people who have said something positive to me. I even had some girl with nothing but body paint on tell me she loved my shirt, to which I quickly resonded without thinking that I loved the fact she didn't have one! She simply smiled and for a second considered giving me a hug. I blame it on the heat. It is a very gracious and pleasant atmosphere here. Some lovely folks a few spaces down from us shared their watermelon with me. Day 2's music has been good so far. No one today topped the Raconteurs or Stephen Marley. We watched a Gypsy Punk band named Gogol Bordello, that was festive. Then we watched BB King in his regal and wise 82 years ramble through a 1 hour set. All of my most cherished musical selections are deeply rooted in the blues. It was an 8 track tape "
BB King live from Cook County Jail" my grandfather found when he purchased a used Lincoln Continental that I have to thank for that influence. This was my 2nd live performance by Mr. King. He isn't able to play near as much, but he still has that distinctive voice and style. We are cooling off at the site now listening to Jack Johnson run through his set, very relaxing tempo his band is laying down for us. Pearl Jam is up for a 2 hour set at 10:30pm. After that a 1 hour performance by a little known group named the Dead Confederates. Then at 2:15am Kanye's All Glow Show will no doubt change our world. Then it is a screening of Maltese Falcon. Somewhere around 7am we should wrap up Day 3. Later...

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Further commentary on last night.

2008-06-14T07:26:00.000-07:00

Since my battery was ending I had to make last nights review brief. I have since found some juice I wanted to expand on the scene a little more. First off, I chose by pure coincidence to wear my AC/DC tee shirt (it was clean). Once I made it to the VIP area I found a good angle to clearly see the opening. The crowd was enormous, and jacked up as well. All of a sudden the sound system cranks out "long way to the top if you want to rock n roll" from the good ole Bon Scott days of AC/DC. There was an instant recognition from all those in my proximity and I was overtaken by fired up metal heads all wanting to give me high fives and fist pumps. I started to tell them I wasn't an official represented of that wonderful band from Australia, but I was too busy enjoying the gratification from my eager brethren. So, as I mentioned previously Metallica opened with a thunderous rendition of Creeping
Death". Their entire setlist was from the black album and before. All pre-napster controversy. It was as if the band decided to renew their vows with the faithful diehards. Metallica's lyrics have a deep connection to their fans personal lives. This observation was clearly obvious during "Sad but True". Hetfield is a master at ochestrating his legions, and it is a sight to see someone command the audience so deftly. My favorite moment was most likely during "One" from And Justice For All. They fired up some massive pyrotechnics and effects to enhance the dramatic staging for this song. I also very much enjoyed "Nothing Else Matters" and "Unforgiven". Overall the entire setlist was very appropriate and well received by the mass of true believers. The covenant with Metallica's followers has been restored. I am pleased to have been able to witness it. Today is a full slate of must see
events. I can't imagine anything topping Day 2, but I am eager to find out. We have a slew of choices to make, but we are all in accordance with being there for BB King, Pearl Jam, and Kanye West. Stay Tuned, it might be a while before I get to check back in. I may not even have time to eat today.

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Return of the King

2008-06-13T21:30:00.000-07:00

Tonight it was the return of the Kings of METAL. I wasn't certain what to expect from the band I have listened to since my sophomore year of high school. My cousin Greg, who has always had a darker edge, introduced me to them after his guitar instructor turned him on to them. I thought their sound was great, but I never dreamed I would be out amongst a sea of devoted followers watching Metallica blast through a 2 hour power set some 22 years later. It poured a solid rain for an hour before they were due to play an hour and a half as tonights headliner. I came real close to sticking around our site since we are only four rows from the main stage fence. Instead I found myself trudging through to the VIP section just to get a good view of the crowd and the performance. The rain stopped as I got into the venue and the largest crowd I have seen here thus far was in prime form. They opened
with "creeping death" and closed with "enter sandman". It was an awesome performance, and I was glad to see they still have it. This was a wonderful close to an amazing day of music. From Marley to Raconteurs and finally Metallica I have had the best day in a long, long time! Good nite for now.

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Breaking News

2008-06-13T17:21:00.000-07:00

I was going to save my battery and do a post later after the Metallica set, but I couldn't wait to bring you the news! Rock & Roll is not dead! I just heard it and it shook me down to the core. A wonderful ensemble from Knoxville called the Raconteurs just floored me. They came on at 5pm after Stephen Marley. It was so incredible, I just wish I knew how to work the video on this phone. Loaded with long, blues infused sustains, reverb, feedback, powerful percussion and bass, and two leads, one a very charismatic frontman whose name I am unfamiliar with. I assure you this though, I am going to be finding out more about him and the rest of this band. And as soon as possible I am going to aquire their album, it's a must! These guys got ahold of me so much my eyes welled up a few times during their deepest tracks. Fresh, genuine, and with a dues paid demeanor these guys tore up the largest
stage in this venue with a blistering hour and a half set that held the audience through every song to the end. I didn't want it to be over. Well, that's all my battery is going to allow. More to come when I get to a car charger...

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Stephen Marley is the best!

2008-06-13T13:45:00.000-07:00

Thoroughly enjoying Stephen Marley and his band. Very rich sound. I was especially moved by "everything is going to be alright". I need to listen to that more often. I have a tough time believing in that sometimes, but this trip has opened my eyes. If you get the chance you need to check his show out. The crowd is really getting it. So far this is the best performance I have seen this week. Unforgettable...

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Day 2

2008-06-13T12:18:00.001-07:00

It is day 2 and it is much warmer and less breezy today. The sky is indicating a good rain is coming on soon. Last night we watched the Vampire Weekend set all the way through. Afterwards we cruised over to Lez Zeppelin, an incredible cover band, and they are all lesbians. We only stayed for a couple of songs but were there long enough to catch a powerful rendition of "in my time of dying" off the physical graffiti album. That is one of my favorite songs by Zeppelin, and it showcases both the raw power of John Bonham's drum skills, and sophisticated guitar work of Jimmy Page. They followed it up with "since I've been lovin you" off the Zeppelin II album, a very deep blues track that is difficult to pull off live. They did a good enough job on it, but clearly excelled covering the latter tracks from physical graffiti and presence. Got back to the tent around 1am and was too worn out to
go back to the cinema tent at 4am for Maltese Falcon. I get another shot at that film Saturday night. Took an ice cold shower this morning and strolled about. We met some nice folks named Luke & Kayla from Conecticut last night at super. Ironically we ran into them again when we made an ice run, and again at lunch. They were here for Allman Brothers too, but like me they have found enough to enjoy the scene. Becca and Ben are going to see a couple of shows while Philip and I check out the cinema tent again. We might go see Umphries McGee later. Tonight is Metallica, we heard them tuning up this morning and they sounded pretty good. More later...

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Vampire Weekend

2008-06-12T21:56:00.000-07:00

It's almost midnight here. Running on my 21st hour since I got up and began this trip. We are listening to a "bubblegum" band named Vampire Weekend. They have a clean sound with a good rythym. There is a hint of carribean influence in the beat and bass. I can see how this sound would be a hit in the summer at the beach or poolside. I am giving some thought to cruising to an alternate stage to hear some lesbian Led Zeppelin cover band. That may sound ridiculous but at this hour how bad could it be? In 4 hours the classic "Maltese Falcon" with Humphrey Bogart plays at the cinema tent. Till later...

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Night Life

2008-06-12T19:37:00.000-07:00

It is a surreal scene of colors and sounds as we venture through the crowd at Centeroo this comfortable evening. A pleasing vibe of energy emminates from the crowd at each stage. A brass band from resurgent New Orleans pumps out a fusion of jazz crossed with funk sets the beat and mood while happy roo'ers flash multi colored glow sticks and frisbees. Just a short stroll away some band called management weaves a modern psychadelic wave through the mesmerized audience. Overhead a crisp half moon hangs over the venue, reminding us of our tiny relevance to the entirety of the Universe.

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Ready to eat!

2008-06-12T15:31:00.001-07:00

We are cooling off next to the air conditioned food tent waiting on it to open. It has been woderful so far. We ventured over to the cinema tent first thing when we got here. Saw a wonderful documentary on Live Earth with some terrific international performances. Afterwards we watched the beginning of a film on Palestinian Hip Hop. Didn't get that one completed as it was time to hunt Becca & Ben. We have some Canadians camping alongside our site who seem very friendly. I am leery though as, after all, they're Canadian. There is such an enormous list of performers I am uncertain who we will be seeing first. I will report back with a review though as soon as we get a show in.

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we have settled in!

2008-06-12T10:24:00.001-07:00

Without any drama or trauma we have made it to our site and set everything up already by noon. We decided to go with VIP tickets, and believe me this was a great decision. We passed over 12 miles of standstill traffic rolling along unencumbered to the special VIP exit. We got through check-in, security, and campsite setup in an hour and a half. It's time to track down some lunch and get our bearings on the scene here. Stay tuned for more updates later...

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Countdown to Bonnaroo

2008-06-10T16:09:00.000-07:00

Coming Soon!
Since I am about to go to Bonnaroo for the first time I decided to turn the experience into a blog. If modern technology permits, and my cell phone battery lasts, I will posting a daily account of what I encounter in Manchester this week. We are planning to leave out very early Thursday morning. I began this journey in hopes of finally seeing the Allman Brother's Band. Unfortunately thanks to Greg Allman's illness the band will not be performing this week. So now I pin my entertainment hopes on B.B. King as the anchor for this event. I saw him many years ago, and have always loved his music. Some day should I live long enough, and Greg Allman's health returns, I will see the band who inspired my daughter's name. I hope to have a whole lot to write about in the coming days. With technical assistance I might even be able to post some pictures. Till then stay tuned!

BW