Utterly mangled. It’s Suwannee Hulaween at Suwannee Music Park. Music Lives Here.
It was self mutilation of the thickest magnitude. Absolute thuggish savagery and undeniably ridiculous “adult” behavior of the crustiest order. There really are no effective words to describe the scene and some things can’t ever be erased from the mind’s eye. It got real heavy, real fast. Hard to figure how there can be so so much love, respect and swagger way down in this grease fire but sometimes one has to dig a pig hole to find more shade.
It’s easy to understand why some people shy away from larger festivals. There’s simply more of everything. More music, more people, more unbridled gibberish. More sparkling crazy. There are thundering herds of wooks, tweakers and rednecks, all looking for hard slanted fun. There’s also more artists, more great personalities, more help, more spirit and more human groundscores (LSW). Hula is perched on the grounds of the Suwannee Music Park in Live Oak, Florida and there is no better place to camp and enjoy fantastic live music with delicious people. There’s always plenty of folks attending Hula, the park or any festival for the first time and they walk away with one of two reactions. The first is this is utterly insane and they have no reason to return. The other is disbelief that this has been going on for some time without them and they are late to the party.
Don’t worry grasshopper. You’re not late, it’s just your turn. Close you eyes. Turn away from it if you can. Slap the bag and take a slug. Welcome to Hulaween 2018: The Kamp Ha Penis Dumpster Fire
It’s what you’ve come to expect at Suwannee Hulaween. It’s a complicated network of music lovers, tribal families and heady trades. It’s groundscore heaven and boy showers with ladies dandruff shampoo. It’s a collaborative effort from each and every “participant” and once again, it all came together in the silliest way possible. There’s plenty of dirt in your coffee cup and dreads in your bed. It’s wet tarps and black feet, oversized hula hoops and broken Christmas lights. Lost beer tickets, butterfly earrings and guitar picks laying everywhere just under the dirt. It’s hillbillies and fraternity boys crashed out together on inflatable couches, broken and hoarse. Don’t look now but your heels are cracked and dirty and your eyeglasses are missing a lens. Listen up! Did you hear what he saidamene?
The Kamp Happiness Florida Chapter set up their installation near the Poncho Tree and Luke’s Lake. The Farm Field near the bat house has been a well-known meeting place for years and with it’s shaded camping area and near-by access to the stages and Spirit Lake, it serves as a swell spot to get the thing on. The site, along with Daryl’s hammock camp and our thug neighbors from Jacksonville struggled to find the adult class of year’s past. Breakfast sandwiches and hot coffee were quickly replaced by cold cans of Spaghettios and Bloody Marys with no ice. Like a dumpster fire, it can sometimes be hard to look away from what’s happening. It’s Kamp Ha Penis.
The kamp’s usual “classy as fuck” image took a low, hard shot at Hulaween this year. Cousins from Michigan, Trashville, Rhode Island and out west did their best to help bring the bar right down to the Suwannee limestone. Dirty jello shots and warm crotch scotch gave way to key bumps of Suwannee sand and alligator tail rails. This brand of crusty behavior is rarely seen in the broad daylight and prisons are filled with these exact kind of slovenly individuals. At times it can be a hard road but resist the temptation to fall on your face. You’ll definitely miss something.
“When the port-o-lets are dirty on Wednesday, you can know that Sunday is going to a real treat.”
It was about late night music with drums and guitars. It was about a camp site that doesn’t stop, even when most everyone goes down. Cruise control is a real thing. When young “House” came up apologizing for breaking the head of the dumbae early in the morning, it really wasn’t a problem. “You broke the drum that you were playing right next to my ear until 6:30 in the morning? No worries. Next time feel free to step on the neck of the guitar as well.”
SUWANNEE HULAWEEN EPIPHANIES:
Wookish Innovations: Welcome the unforgiving world of the wranglers. Whether it’s the games at the Winter Wook Olympics, such as bullwhip wook hog-tie (without breaking the cigarette he just bummed) or the Golden Spur Cock Fighting Invitational which has been postponed due to Thatcher’s absence. Remember to take a page out of Daryl’s book and bring a kayak when needing to get into the park without paying, That’s fine if you’re such a wook you don’t want to pay $6 to pretend your playing frisbee golf. Low bar, high hammocks.
Be sure to remove your shoes if you plan on sleeping around the fire. Otherwise, you are inviting a world of swastikas and original peni art. There’s nothing better than waking up in the dirt, around your own campfire, wearing one latex glove and slathered with orange icing, covered up in blankets and love. Also, it literally takes days to get all the sand out of your ear holes.
Cipher’s Floozie Lesson: Hulaween’s music begins Thursday and runs until Sunday, giving participants plenty of chances to visit bands they love, as well as new editions. From Electric Dance Music to horns and funk, from mountain bluegrass to hard core rock n roll. Both String Cheese sets were off the chain, especially the Saturday night “ladies set” at Trinket’s VIP Dance Party. Yonder Mountain String Band brought their mountain jam to the main stage and the JRAD set in the rain, was worth the time and effort. The nicest surprise of the weekend was a “walk” with Cipher where he drug us to the Patch Stage to see The Floozies. Funk, base, sick guitar, horns, and a fantastic light show standing in the Florida rain. Theses surprises are what make Hulaween so special. And Cipher, next time I want to see some fire slinging.
Trinket’s VIP Dance Party: In a world of long lines and closed doors, somehow, someway the redneck posse got tickets to attend Trinket’s intimate, mixed media stage experience. Welcome to the integration station. During String Cheese Incident’s ladies’ set Saturday night, this interactive VIP private party served as one of the headiest single moments of the weekend. Imagining listening to Cheese kill Pat Benatar, surrounded by great friends, passing around hoglegs and using balloons as pillows. Pretty girls and blinking lights must be what Mardi Gras smells like. For all the wet quilts and leaves in the bed, sometimes it gets totally fancy. Please be considerate and watch the lights yo.
Sky Walker Fourth Quarter Groundscore: Not all groundscores are warm beer and Chinese fans. Some are a little more valuable and last forever. There they were, strolling around the woods late Monday afternoon. The two new friends had spent a great weekend together and they were celebrating their new union, excited about the future and the next time they would rage. Heading to the lake to share a blunt, they moved slowly, poking around leftover campsites. They walked in matching groundscore flip-flops, the one with the new wrist warmers carried a suitcase of Coors and the one with the Pippi Longstocking wig carried a full bottle of Jamison Irish whiskey. Monday afternoon at Hula really has a nice three-quarter rhythm and they got caught up in several three-way heady groundscore trades that took ridiculous amounts of unexpected creativity. Thanks to Sam for the delivered secondhand inflatable furniture and keep a keen eye out for DJ Kenobi’s Scrounge Lounge at your next camping adventure. Thank you Cheyenne for Eve’s blanket. You and the Jessicas did a great job being camp moms. It can’t be easy with all the degenerates you have to deal with.
#metooplease: It was a weekend for finding loose chunks of dignity around the park. Ask the Master Naturalist, whose self-respect had been hiding under leaves in the forest since Suwannee Roots Revival. Even if you lose everything, you can’t lose everything. Dignity is fine when one considers Seth lost his phone and car keys. Always check lost and found at the Farm Store when searching for lost items. The Suwannee crowd is pretty good about turning in phones and keys. For dignity, you’ll need to check camp to camp, as there is no telling where it got left and maybe you won’t even need it.
Moonpie had just bought another pair of wrist warmers from Jade at A Bazaar Universe. It had gotten cold during the Cheese set and the pair he’d bought two weeks earlier were all the way back at camp. He stood outside of her stand, at the top of the hill and danced by himself to String Cheese. Suddenly someone came up behind him in the dark and began scratching his back. The men in his family have always enjoyed back scratches and he assumed it must be someone he knew, but who cares? It really didn’t matter, but they felt like feminine fingers and they continued to scratch up and down to the beat of the funky music. This lasted for some time as her fingers lingered on the neck, arms and lower back. Just when Moonpie thought the dream was over, the fingers turned to pounding fists, again working with the drums in the song. He squared his feet, dug in and pushed back with his body to match the pressure from behind. He still never turned around. For days he had been asking people to walk on him and now this unknown forest angel was beating the tar out of his back, arms and neck with brutal precision. After a few more minutes, came the message and this was obviously the work of a trained professional. Again with the neck, back and arms, this was the kind of thing that only happens to someone whose put themselves in the pocket. Well played with zero fade. She finished up with more light scratches and some cat finger kisses to say goodnight. Moonpie considered not turning around but the experience had been far too special too ignore. He turned and they embraced, having shared one of the weirdest and most intimate moments of the weekend. These are the kinds of things that happen at Hulaween.
Pre-pre Party and Post-post Party: By the time it started to get down at Moonshine Gary’s place Wednesday, the park had already been overrun with gypsies for the pre-pre party. Lights were strung all through the trees and folks had already begun venturing out to neighboring camps. For a day with no music, it was obvious these people were here to enjoy the park. It possesses an strange and amazing kind of magik, where unusual things are want to happen. Also, the post-post party Monday night is one of the best in the world. There’s too many people to run out of the park and groundscores like food and booze are rampant. New friends get to sit around and celebrate the stories of the weekend, while finishing up wet chicken and smores. Next year, make Monday night a part of your experience. While plenty of people leave, there’s still so many, the party continues with less fires made of more people. There’s also plenty of leftover firewood so the acoustic set around the campfires gets bigger and badder.
Stupid Games Kids Play: No quarter will be given to Quinton and his new balloon version of Russian roulette. Everyone takes a turn blowing up the balloon until it explodes. What fun! That’s unless it’s during a nitrous balloon party session and several idiots can figure out what’s going on. The “Adam’s Breath” balloons were a real hit around the fire. Be on the lookout for them next time you’ve got an extra five dollar bill. Also, know that if you place your tent between a hissing nitrous tank an a sleeping Shawsvegas Brahma bull, expect heavy property loses. Some dirt won’t ever come off.
The casino made it’s first appearance at Hulaween this year and thank goodness for bust cards. It’s no crime to win on a thirteen and these fellows will think twice before trying to make a living in Live Oak. As Little Steve, Sarah and the last Mexican fleeced the blackjack table for the new Kamp Happiness gong, Moonpie got verbally abused by the beautiful Heather and Krissy at the Complimentary Bar. It’s so hard to pass by a bar and this one is no exception. Even the Complimentary Bar has to have standards. Look for them at your next festival and check out their social media platforms on Facebook and Instagram.
Encroachment Issues: Streets will tell you it’s a hard look having your own property tape used against you. If that was your bit, be glad you didn’t run into some Dothan (UCLA) trash. They do bite. But relax. There will be no fat lios in Kamp Ha Penis. If someone invites you to join them, go small and talk about what you’d like to bring to the table. Plenty of people come to fill up this forest and overlap is a real thing. When someone is having trouble finding a spot, try to fold them into your camp. If someone is pushing up on your patch, nobody needs to get punched in the lip. Hey, Tom (is my lip swollen?), thanks for being a pugilist and for bringing Morgan and Angie. Hard to imagine why a bunch or hard tails wouldn’t want more pretty ladies around. Perhaps they don’t enjoy hippies dressed like cops. It takes all kinds to make the world go round. Welcome to the fam.
Thanks Little Steve and Sarah for saving the compound and I’m sorry we left it in total disarray. That kind of verdent plantation is just what this party needed. We may need more space next year so think about roping off the entire farm field. You are left with the dragon kite. xoxoxoxoxox
Their’s plenty of room in the forest for everyone.
We’ve been kicked out of other camps and we’ve had people leave our camp. Slowly but surely, year after year, party after party, people are slowly coming together who could never bear to get rid of each other.
Build your own family. Less fires but larger ones. There was a special Hula a few years ago that can’t be measured in cool. The Dead Cat Society was perched next to the folks at Kamp Happiness (at that time Camp Happiness) and we spent all of our time at their fire. By the second night, Scotty Smiles suggested we forget our own fire and join our firewood with theirs. The Dirty Ole Man’s Club raged for the entire weekend and they would never camp separate again.
That same weekend, the Captain and his posse rolled up on our fire, without permission. We really didn’t know what to think of them but they were definitely friendly and respectful. They slept under tarps when they weren’t slinging glass or pens, they joined us around the fire for Avett Brothers songs and sick fun on command. They draped us with gifts and love and the fellowship continue to grow in staggering measures. By the end of the weekend, we were all one camp and things would never change. This is how families are born and grow. Earlier this year we all joined together and dressed in our best sassies for Clayopheus’ Roanoke Mafia wedding. Not just festy friends anymore. Don’t be afraid to share your firewood with your neighbors. Consider sharing everything. Who knows, one day you just might camp next to Kamp Happiness. It’s all one family anyway.
Thanks goes out to the family. Chander (hold on to those wood blocks bro), Wanderer, Clayhopheus (where’s my deer meet and deebsters?), Adam (lowest bar forever), Trinket (A game), Chey (world favorite) and Captain (where’s my angry hand job?), Seth (phone and keys aren’t really important), Solarwolf and Lunarwolf, Streets (encroachment issues are real), Little Steve and Sarah (there are no words and yes, I have the black bag), Brenden and the guys at Dab Den (excuse me while I go throw up on your tree), Geo (Purple Hatter’s was fun but this is how it’s done), DJ Kenobi, Bee’s Knees, Josh and Jessica. Tom and the girls, Powell, the Master Naturalist, Tori, Steve (thanks for the slice), Luke Sky Walker (xxoox), House (no worries), Fubu, Cipher (where’s my Panamanian combat took?), Scott and Mary, Ted (always), Mark, Robbie, Ryan and Alice, and Heather and Krissy.
You are Kamp Happiness.
So much swagger.
In past articles, nailtravels has been a bit critical of the mess left behind Hula festevarians, but this year was a step in the right direction. Leftovers were put in moderately ordered piles throughout the park and it looked better than recent years. By no means did it look like a Wanee Monday but it didn’t look like a Suwannee River Jam either. Good job making baby steps to the elevator and thanks for the stuff you didn’t mean to leave. It was given to Cheyenne.
Stay tuned to nailtravels and the wook wranglers as we dry out, wash the tapestries, clean the feet and prepare for the next adventure. If you have plans to go exploring, let us know what’s up and we will join. After all, it’s more fun when we’re together.
#nailtravels #kamphappiness #hulaween #lovemytribe #lowbar #culturalappropriationisreal #totemsrock #fakenews #ican’twalk #makegoodchoices
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