Cornucopia ’21: Fallout Shelter

cor·nu·co·pi·a  /ˌkôrn(y)əˈkōpēə/ -an abundant supply of good things of a specified kind.

                                         “the festival offered a cornucopia of pleasures”

The inaugural Cornucopia Festival found its way to beautiful Maddox Ranch in Lakeland, Florida for a perfect weekend of old friends, new loves and forced entry. The weather and fellowship were stellar for three days of blistering music, art and sideways fun led by the Jon Stickley Trio, Bonnie Blue, The Iceman Special, The Firewater Tent Revival, John Waykin and Friends and many more. Along with the rhythm of nearby trains and the clucking of overhead sandhill cranes, the Psychonautix team put together an amazing event bringing in some of Florida’s best. The Kamp Happiness crew, staked down by Cirrhosis, Moonshine, Lucienda Rosalita, La Cubeta, Ka’ioli, Blankita, and Oldsmar Jones joined the Creative Circus Emporium of the LunatikSol to bring their interactive dance tent to the middle of the party. And party they did, with furious vigor and savage glee. It’s the lowest bar. The last rung on the ladder. Low brow? You must be this tall to ride this ride. You have found your way to Cornucopia ’21: Fallout Shelter. Soiled reputations welcome. This is the Home Invasion Tour. Are you done in there yet? I’m gonna miss the bus.

“Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes the bear eats you.”  Ka’ioli

La Cubeta knew it wasn’t going to be an easy article to write. He was used to penning his own version of historical fiction amidst free roaming blackouts but this time the “facts” were particularly scant. Occasionally he’d been known to take good notes but this situation was a little different. His party had been shut down like a bad daycare and there were lapses in the tragic recollections. In lieu of actual facts he would be forced to utilize the remaining literary devices at his disposal, once again making bedfellows of exaggeration, hearsay and simple fabrication.

Build it and burn it down.

Putting together a festival is high science. Personalities, chemicalia and all manner of exploratory adventures can add multiple unforeseen variables. When it does all come together it creates a truly immersive experience where friends are made, love is found and bench warrants are issued. It’s a family reunion and a chance to play music, in what is often an audition for bands exchanging players or festivals looking for performers. Yup.

Late night doughnuts with Lucienda Rosalita. 

This is the shallow end of the kiddy pool. Put the genie back in the bottle. Put the toothpaste back in the tube. Lucy had a proclivity for light madness or as she called it, the fever. If she took too much too fast she preferred that it be early in the party so she still had time to bounce and perhaps find redemption. Even if she got Baker Acted she’d be back before the party was over. Thursday night found her buried in the womb of Kamp Happiness under what appeared to be the influence of mildly serious psychedelics. Later reports had her behind the wheel of her vehicle and racing through camp, spinning doughnuts and spitting mud on Miles. By all accounts she really should have been first place VIP, but it was only Thursday night and there were plenty of fish yet to be fried.

Lanyard Larceny? Where’s my press credentials?

It was nine in the morning when Ka’ioli stumbled back from the Ferngully Stage clutching a bottle of stolen whiskey. He dropped into Kamp Happiness and folded like an origami lawn chair. La Cubeta was still salty about not getting press credentials and didn’t have the time or inclination to forge them. Theft was the only reasonable choice and while Ka’ioli napped, La Cubeta and LunatikSol switched his lanyard with one from Suwannee Roots Revival. At some point he woke up only to stumble a few feet away and pass out in the mulch by the sideways oak tree. This would be referred to as the “late checkout”.

Kamp Happiness

Everything they’d collected throughout the summer was coming out for this weekend. This was to be the big show. The Frick Frack ribbons from Backwoods and the groundscored lights from Hula were draped around the back of the tilted oak tree. This was a special opportunity to really show off all of the ratchet shit they’d picked up from West Virginia to Chilicothe. It was a dream come true. The Kamp Happiness Late Night Pickin’ Tent was bathed in cheap lights and by Thursday night housed no less than two stand up bases and three guitars. Things were moving in the right direction.

Get thee behind me Satan.

Never one to be outdone, La Cubeta was always up for the VIP challenge. Ever since the turmoil in Longmont and the bright lights of New Orleans he’d promise to shoot from the hip. Even if it meant hurting his already soiled reputation or what was left of it. Embarrassing? Perhaps. A cry for help? Maybe. The last brutal act of a desperate man? A paranoid drug reaction? It matters little. If this isn’t an apology or admonishment then it’s nothing. “You need to be gone in an hour or the sheriff’s getting called.”

Good night.

They hadn’t even gotten to the fun drugs yet. It was only Friday night and everyone was just getting revved up. La Cubeta “recalled” a bearded hippy named Timber wielding  menacingly a large tiger shark tooth next to his face. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His dark, unforgiving eyes said it all. Fine. It was time to leave. La Cubeta got up from the sacred fire and headed for the Moonshine Stage with guitar in hand. He was to show off some of his mad licks and sing right through the drool. En route he tripped over an oak root and landed on the neck of his Ovation, snapping it like a chicken bone. He bit down hard on his tongue and spat the blood out in disgust. A figure helped him up and offered him an angry hand job if he could make it to the caretakers home. “You better believe it,” he slurred. Who couldn’t use a free hand job? Sometimes it’s not the hand job you want but the one you need. He snatched up Ka’ioli’s handle of John Daniels and lurched along with the dark stranger. It was getting impossible to focus and he grabbed the man’s back pocket and followed close behind.

Once inside the poorly lit domicile La Cubeta began to have terrible visions and realized he’d been drugged against his will. When he came to understand they weren’t alone he recalled his grandfather’s warning, “If you don’t know who’s getting date raped, then it’s probably you.” “Don’t worry guy. This is my friend. I’m gonna take you guys skiing” as he made a shaking motion with both of his fists. La Cubeta screamed, “What kind of fucking freakshow are you peddling? I’m not that kind of girl!” He pushed passed the two strangers and poured himself into the guest bathroom, locking the door behind him. The pair crushed the door into splinters and shoved a shotgun in his face. From the circumference of the barrel La Cubeta suspected it was a twenty gauge or a 4-10. He pushed his forehead against the cold steel and ever-so-softly whispered, “Do me a favor and make it count ole boy. If you miss all I’ll be is more deaf. Sweet release.”

Morning…

When La Cubeta came to he was covered in vomit but it didn’t appear to be his. He hadn’t eaten solid food in days and whoever’s sick this was had recently taken in some SpaghettiOs. His mouth wasn’t filled with leftover bile but there were other indicators. He couldn’t remember where he’d woken up only moments earlier. Someone was shouting at him but he couldn’t decipher or comprehend just what they were saying. Something about “Get the fuck out now!” La Cubeta reasoned it was way too early for that kind of verbal assault. Now there were two people yelling at him and he was utterly addled. Where had the last few hours gone and what the shit was happening? There was hardly enough time to get in this kind of altercation. There was a constant flashing of kaleidoscopic, disconnected, albeit horrifying images but nothing that made any sense or anything he could hold onto.

One thing was for sure, he’d been rolled by professional thugs. Someone had stolen his sandals, groundscored from Backwoods and a single naked toe protruded from his Grateful Dead socks. His ribs were covered with yellowish-green bruises and made a clicking sound when he inhaled. Dried blood formed a crusty mat over his right temple and that ear was no longer working. There was a new scar that ran vertically across his abdomen. Hopefully they didn’t harvest his last kidney. He was running low ever since the “incident” with the underage prostitute in San Juan del Sur. Jagged shards of reflective glass were embedded in his knuckles and his right leg was cold and inflated. He’d felt worse but not much.

“Hahaha demon. I’ve seen you before….Nice try.”   Ka’ioli

Had he been drugged without his knowledge? That would certainly explain a great deal. If Road Block was correct then it only really needed to be blamed on the whiskey. There is a devil in that bottle. That math would also check out. Tamiami, when pushing back against a hard night, had been known to periodically piss in a closet and on one or two occasions leave his hotel room in the night only to find his way into someone else’s bed. Sometimes weird things happen to strange people.

Top eight titles for this article

• Home Invasion Tour
• Danger: Swamp Madness
• No Vacancy
• No means yes, yes means anal
• Mr. Beautiful’s Self Date-Raping Kit
• Are you done in there? Mom, Jason’s hogging the bathroom.
• Moon Madness
• Enthusiastic Trespassing

“The Kamp Happiness Pleasure Palace really put it out there at this year’s Cornucopia. You might call it the ultimate sacrifice.”

S. Turner, Drunk Rednecks Illustrated

Lunacy?

Reports had been coming in all night that the strength of the lunar eclipse and its effect on the inner ear had in many cases caused confusion and schizophrenia. Within this framework there had been a casual acceptance of early onset dementia, vertigo and eventually moon madness (insanity).

“The world doesn’t need another falling down drunk.”  Ka’aoli 

Kamp Happiness?

La Cubeta donned the brunette curly wig and his best flowered skirt in the hopes of “avoiding” any more missteps. Once the hard goodbye came, it was time to attack the problem strategically. How would he be able to return to the festival? Sure, the organic idea was to sneak back in but this was no Lockn’. This was a family festival and he was feeling taller by the minute. Face paint? Actually wear a mask in Florida? None of it seemed feasible. His eventual efforts were spent hunting for a steak house bar in Lakeland and enjoying a bone-in Ribeye over the Crimson Tide/ Razorback game. All in all and considering, things might have ended up much worse.

Visit Ka’ioli’s Hippy Flea Market all day Saturday and Sunday. Everything must go. Saturday prices. No deals. Grandma’s quilt. That groovy octopus tapestry from Summer Camp. Super cheap. Help yosef.

From here on out management knew they were going to have to include microdoses of mushrooms and acid (especially acid) in the contract for the sole reason of avoiding extreme behavior. That would help everything go much smoother. Mushrooms indeed. And maybe some meth. For balance. And Toasted Marshmallow Bud Light Seltzer.

Strap on your festicles. This ain’t no resticle. -G.L.

In the struggle to create the space and find a place for everyone, festival organizers can get a little testy. Sometimes in the wake of potential stressful situations they can even go as far as losing their shit. The Cornucopia staff should be applauded for their smooth approach to organization, site operations and “unexpected variables”. Keep up with Psychonautix and Cornucopia and they continue to bring people together for music and gitterdun fun. More to come. Thanks to LunatikSol for contributing to the moon madness. Visit their social media sites on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube.

Keep up with the wranglers as we gear up for the Florida winter heading toward Vibra Urbana Miami, No Resolutions, Okeechobee Festival and beyond. Next year’s covers will include FloydFest and Mountain Music Festival with much more to come. Visit random silliness from the Summer Mountain Festival Lyme Disease Tour like Summer Camp (Restricted Access), FloydFest (The Inmates are Running the Asylum), and Hulaween (Cheese. Love. Sauce.).

namaste y’all.