Falling Hard at the Festival

They walked alone. After years attending the same festivals, the two individuals had never met. Not at all suspecting that the trail of life, on which they’d been veering and looping for years, was now sending them crashing right into one another.

As the prophesy foretold. The convergence.

It was late Saturday night and during the last set they’d both been separated from their respective crowds. She’d left her people to attack the rail during Lettuce and by the time she came back, everyone had vanished. For all she knew, they were still there. She wasn’t seeing clearly. He’d gotten lost in a porta-let and ended up exiting through the hidden back door with which many honeypots come factory equipped. Energy levels were waning and they both desperately needed sustenance. When they met in the line for pizza, she couldn’t see his blue fingernails and he couldn’t see her hidden jingle jangles and Patriots stealie tattoo.

They were both wearing identical panda onesies. Sometimes these things write themselves. You’re falling hard at the festival.

I told Althea, I’m a roving sign
That I was born to be a bachelor
Althea told me, OK that’s fine
So now I’m trying to catch her

Neither of them ever expected to hook up at camping/music festival. It’s like being on vacation when you’re single; You’re not really there to find love, but whose going to argue with a little vacation romance every once in a while? When there’s this much weirdness going on, everyone needs to remain open to suggestion. Love is fun. Bonafide prophets are few and far between and unless you’re working overtime and swinging for the fences like Gitterdun Turner, it’s the kind of thing that only happens in movies. In reality, festivals aren’t really for that. There’s far too much live music, homegrown campfire frivolity and generally swimming in the deep end of the pool. For the most part men give off a little too much grease when they flirt and, contrary to popular belief, Kamp Happiness has always been considered a “safe place’. Don’t believe what you read in the Coconut Telegraph. That doesn’t give you permission to put your hands on me. #fakenews

“Yes…the love gangster gonna make you cry”

For a serious bachelor, when it comes to potential nuptials, the only place more dangerous than a music festival is the gondola ride from the City of Telluride up to Mountain Village. With the backdrop setting of the beautiful box canyon covered in blinking festival lights, no man really has a chance. See for yourself, every hard tail riding the gondola up to The Peaks has a sweet story about how he proposed while sitting in that very spot. He wasn’t even planning on it. How could he know that each harmless looking seat was actually a creatively disguised bear trap? It’s not like he had a choice. Her hair hung almost down to the ground. He wanted nothing more than to dance in the eye of her hairicane. What’s a thug supposed to do with all that?

POR QUE?

• Honesty:  Look at what you’re wearing. Day glow leggings, and Chuck Taylors with spurs. You”re literally dripping with feathers. This most honest version of yourself is a mix of a liberal party attitude with a genuine slice of ego. The clothing and people are all part of this brutal honesty. This is the butterfly that’s been waiting under the khaki chrysalis. And what about your behavior? These are not the kind of things you would ever be showing someone on a first date. Let’s see how the “hard to want” strategy works out. Your ears are filled with dirt, you’ve got Spanish moss in your hair and it looks like you’ve been punched in the face by the iron fist of life. Suave.

Your festival gear shows off the real you. It’s exactly what CS&N meant in “I Almost Cut My Hair” when they say, “Let your freak flag fly.” He thought he looked so good. Argyle wrist warmers, homemade beads, a groundscored sombrero from Hulaween past and an ornate poncho his mother found at a garage sale. (Si, cultural appropriation is real.) His knitted scarf hang loosely to the ground and, unbeknownst to him, he’d urinated all over it.

• Commonality: Not only are you both wearing butterfly wings, but you also both love bouncing up and down to Bassnectar. Like meeting someone in a Lutheran church, one can expect to have things in common with others at a festival. We are connected by music, camping, an entirely social agenda and a certain liberal sensibility in terms of recreation and fun. There may even be a sliver of a chance we both like Old & In the Way. Woo hoo.
• Venerability: Huckleberry would suggest it’s about venerability. Whether through chemical assistance, mass hypnosis or a social awakening of some kind, these aforementioned behaviors position us in a place of fragile openness. In this heightened state, we may be capable of increased levels of cognition and emotion. As we learned at Hula ’18, there is plenty of love, respect and swagger down in the grease fire.

How it happens:

Step 1 (The Meet and Greet): It’s Lockn’ 2015 and Huckleberry was at Sunday Church (otherwise known as Keller’s Grateful Gospel) dancing next to some girl who really had to get down. Keller was dropping an “Eyes of the World” and sweat was flying everywhere as she wiggled and twirled in his direction. He would do a little sweet talking until she’d finally sling the leg. The seed planted (metaphorically). The gauntlet thrown down. Now the race is on and here comes pride in the backstretch… Please don’t mind if I groundscore your dignity.

She: I want to make love to you but I don’t want you to think I’m a whore.

He: Nothing can stop that. You might as well get laid.

Step 2 (The Move): Chicago, Shmicago, It just might be time to pick up stakes and head south to North Carolina. That’s where Boone  hillbillies keep the women. The belles. Things go on this way for just about long enough for her not to feel like a side street swinger when the word finally comes down from on high.

Step 3 (The Slider): Exactly three years later at Infinity Downs Keller is again playing “Eyes of the World” at Church on Sunday morning. The target is in position. You know what to do. Flood tubes one and two and plot a firing solution. Mark sonar bearing two three five. Keep us at zero-bubble. Welcome to the rest of your life. “Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings”

She’s what they mean when they say flower child. She sings John Denver and makes her own beads. She works in a homeless shelter, beer bar or helps kids get their GED. She slings glass and pins while the rest of us sink slowly into the muck. She’s covered in necklaces, flowers and sick leather boots, or maybe her feet are all cracked and dirty. Like Puck, her face is painted in forest colors and she’s wearing a pair of green antlers. She has beautiful dreadlocks tied up with colored string. She’s a camp mom but also a little girl with nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile. She serves the morning coffee and mimosas while you’re already knee deep in moonshine, sitting around the day fire telling complete lies. Every morning you wake up in curious amazement that she chooses to share her valuable time and life with the likes of you. You suspect she might be crazy, and the fact she sticks with you is pretty compelling evidence.

“Maybe she’s crazy, I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I love her so.”

She’s the Blocker: Of course security guards will see you coming. It’s so obvious you’ve been regulated to the distinction of “contraband mule” that you might as well be wearing a sign. Where are the lost drugs from earlier this morning? Of course, they’re still in the right front pocket of your cargo shorts, but don’t worry. Security guards can help because they know all of the best hiding places.

It’s always good policy to work in tandem when moving contraband. It might seem wise to use the female blocker as you try to slide in behind her, but don’t be too hasty. There’s another security down right down the table whose waiting for you. Instead, be the blocker yourself and let her sweet talk the next dude that looks in her bag. In addition to hiding places under their breasts, forest lilies have a special power when it comes to hypnotizing security personnel . Hard tails are not want to specialize in such Jedi mind trickery.

How You Think You Look                                                                                 How You Actually Look

1. Quite sexy                                                                                                  1. Obviously troubled
2. Coordinated                                                                                              2. Disheveled
3. Suave                                                                                                          3. Spun
4. Fancy                                                                                                          4. Dripping
5. A little buzzed                                                                                           5. Utterly mangled

Crack peanuts not hearts.

PERKS OF A FESTIVAL LILY:

You Look Better: By yourself, left to your own devices, the nicest thing anyone can say about you is that you look like a terrorist. With someone on your arm. people are more comfortable around you. Even with the sunken red eyes surrounded by dark rings, folks just assume you’re not a total thug. Homeless people look better in couples. It’s so nice to have someone with which to travel and a lily on your arm helps the whole presentation.

Lost and Found: it can be important to stay with your significant other, or at least check in with each other now and again. Solo lurking adventures are a real thing, as well as unexpected “walks” with friends, but the single greatest challenge when running in tandem is finding and keeping up with each other. There needs to be a balance of together time with “by myself in the woods burbling to no one” time. You bought a ticket, you might as well see the show.

The Power Couple: Let’s make beautiful music together. It’s always a pleasure to see couples working together to have more fun and get more raging done. She remembered the French press, blinking lights, camping and rain gear. You remembered the drugs and the chicken costume. What a team! Whether it’s Michigan wooks, Trashville hippies or Florida crackers…Believe in music. Believe in love.

Ye Not Complain: Gone are the days you have to say, “May I speak with your manager?” That’s her job and she learned it well from her mother. Don’t send your man out to complain about frisbees hitting the side of your motor coach at four in the morning. We will keep him and turn his mind to mush. Bring earplugs and also don’t use your children as an excuse for late night quiet. Kids sleep fine through noise unless you’ve already trained them to the contrary. Festivals are not for long silences.

Each time he began to wish for a festival partner, he’d witness an unnamed girl fall apart at some point late in the weekend, almost always serotonin Sunday. She’d start lighting in about about she’d been left alone all day Saturday, or how he bought the wrong color rum, tent stakes, or whatever. It’s ironical to hear a young butterfly screaming at the top of her lungs, only to later find out that her hippy name is Harmony.

Sleeping Quarters: No more sleeping in the dirt by the campfire. All the quilts are dirty and wet and it’s freezing cold in Kamp Happiness. The flap to the yoga machine is wide open and small baggies of groundscored dignity lies scattered on the side table. Rumors persists that when tent sleeping on a freezing night, two naked bodies are warmer than one fully clothed. This can be a hard fact to wrap your brain hole around. Is there some way we can get down without removing our clothes? There simply has to be. All the quilts are soaked at it’s forty degrees. My kingdom for a travel trailer. Who says we’re kicked out of the loop? Statute of limitations are real,even in Gunison.

Freshness Levels: When running solo, freshness questions are not as important as when your body is a wonderland. Small applications of deodorant can go a long way and when playing doubles tennis, freshness levels need to be somewhat equal. Lockn’ has only one set of showers and they cost ten bucks a pop. If it comes down to waiting in line for two hours for a ten dollar shower, you might just want to agree to wait until Monday. There are only so many hours in the day and sailing shoes are not for standing in line. Most of us are dirtier on the inside anyway and they don’t make an effective cleaning solvent for that. Find your way to the Spirit of Suwannee Music Park for free showers at one of their many locations. Clever couples can have hot showers early in the morning or mid-afternoon. Other than that, you might as well take a hippy bath in the Suwannee River.

Husbands and wives, grandmas and grandpas, long-time lovers are important to a party. It’s a good lesson for everyone who feeds off their beautiful energy. It’s great to hang out with two people that have been together so long that one or both of them knows when to shut up. Experienced partners will agree, it’s not always important to say what you think. Who knows? You may well need someone to blow into the breathalyzer that controls your ignition.

So don’t get all heady about it. If the old adage is true; it will happen when you least expect it. Which probably means right now. Whether you want it or not, it’s coming. Of course you can do it by yourself. You’ve gotten real good at that, but adventure has a name. The roller coaster is more fun than the carousel. The good news is that you’re older and there may not even be enough years left for her to get sick of your jokes. Everyone gets to feel fifteen again at some point, so be ready when the mountain comes to Mohammed. Couple skate only. It’s so much more fun together.

Check out the wrangler archives for recent wrap-ups from Hulaween: The Kamp Ha Penis Dumpster Fire, Visit The Wook in You for more tales of gibberish and woe from the wranglers.

This article has been sponsored by the Dead Cat Society and the Roanoke Mafioso. Virginia is for lubbers. Keep up as we head south to Spring Reunion and beyond. Like Sunshine says, “Make good choices.”

“Je crois en la musique. je crois en l’amour.”