“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.

The post Cornucopia ’21: Fallout Shelter appeared first on wook wranglers.

Wow. A story about missing a festival? Everyone’s got that yarn and it never sounds like fun. No one would really be interested in hearing that tale of woe. But the truth is that the road isn’t always open. Sometimes it shuts down like a bad daycare. On the wrong day It can get downright weird. But that’s part of the delicious whisper that is the wild and uncharted trail. Get ready to sell expensive fishing poles for twenty-five dollars worth of gas. Almost useless in overgrown truck stops like Rawlins, Wyoming.

Even with ample funds, strange things happen on the road. If you have no money be assured your trapeze act isn’t using a net. When one travels with limited funds they set themselves up to be in a venerable position. There’s less margin for error in an environment where hurdles and consequences can quickly mount.

He was having the dream again. Always the same. It was the long road. Mesas off in the distance. Driving through some arid landscape in Utah, outside of Green River and reeking of Indica and Coors. Some sort of police car directly behind. Not sure what faction of the enforcement branch but, to be sure, a redneck with a gun. Muy peligroso. Mix him up with a poor person and an angry judge. See where that gets you. Falkenburg Road Jail. For dabs? Give me a fucking break. And he thought Shrimphead would be the last guy in Florida to go to jail for grass. Nope. It really never ends.

But what’s a citizen to do? It was time to take what could hardly be called a strongbox and head south for the Florida festival season. Lucienda in tow, they would soon be leaving for a shotgun tour of Florida and all the strange fun that comes with March and April.

Baitbucket was getting a mite riled up as things were starting to get funky down south. He’d taken time off work schleping beers and was headed out for a couple months of festivals and fishing. All the things. With all the “winter-mix” fun North Carolina had to offer in February it would serve as a seriously much-needed reprieve. They would soon be heading down the mountain, stars in the sky (Caprisun rising), Chihuahua in the lap, tunes blasting and a car crammed with blankets, guitars and dead cats. It still wasn’t certain whether Big Betty was going to fit but many in the logistics department were cautiously optimistic.

“Money had exchanged hands. Promises were made”. “Yeah it sucks but in this case we’re just going to have take lemons and make mushroom tea.”

The road is a beautiful, fickle bitch. Weird things happen out there and with each trial comes experience and wisdom. There was Longmont, Colorado and the busted Adventurewagon in the Walmart parking lot. No money and a lost Chihuahua. Good times. Sleeping in the front seat of a Nissan Xterra. Good times indeed. Rockygrass in Lyons and Tim O’Brien showing up in the strangest places. Then there was free camping in Green River, Utah and the “wrath of God” sandstorm that would show up everyday around three and blow the ez-up into the ionosphere. It’s to be expected and it comes with the territory.

The Night the Oldsmowagon Died

B.B left the bar at a reasonable time. They could now stay open until 11:00 pm in North Carolina (Thanks Roy) so it seemed everyone was being responsible all the time. The Oldsmowagon came to rest in the parking lot of Mountaineer Hall at Appalachian State. Exactly one week later he was still in Boone. Sitting in the darkened office, listening to “A Song Before I go” on headphones. Crosby, Stills and Nash. A boy band of superstars. He would need good music to stay sane today. And more whiskey. Yesterday’s George Dickle was already in the trash. Once again he hadn’t heard from the mechanic in two days. Last they spoke, the team was confounded by the Oldsmowagon’s security system which when the juice went out, apparently engaged like some kind of advanced computer weapon.

He put on Captured Angel by Dan Folgergerg. This would all prove to be an important ongoing meditation. Trying not to be apprehensive or bummed-out by not being at the Maddox Ranch Medicine Show. They had passed around the narcotics collection plate and they were making bets on when he would get there. The good money was on suicide. The news kept coming out of the show. Bonnie Blue and Firewater Tent Revival had slayed it. Chase Holiday had been seen running naked through the field screaming, “viva revolucion!” and Tim proposed to Sunnie Ray. Plenty of action for a crowd that was more than ready for it.

Friday Part II

Exactly a week later he was still sitting on pre-launch, plied with liquor, painting rocks and clothespins in the slim chance that he might ever make it back to a festival. The Oldsmowagon had been towed from Bill’s Automotive to Team Chevrolette and had sat there for a few more days. Finally, thankfully and fifteen hundred dollars later they would be on the road again. That being said, after this expense the coffers would surely dry. It would make more sense to stick around, work for two weeks and gather a little coin for the adventure, but…

La Rosanostra, Moonshine and the rest of the fam were already at Suwannee for Spring Fling. They would be there dancing their tits off in Live Oak. Once again the strategy was the same. Immediately head south and figure out the rest later.

The Road.

He was excited to get on the road. If needed they would sleep in the car at a rest stop. They would sustain themselves on bad food and cheap beer. The way God meant for it to be. Lucy might have to survive completely on the cheese-laden foil burger wrappers that would litter the vehicle. As he got closer to the park, the tinglies started and he was forced to engage the cruise control so he wouldn’t push too hard and fast.

Suwnnee Spring Fling: Mind if we dance with your podmates?

Kuddos to Beth Judy and Spirit of Suwannee Music Park for hosting the much-needed festival with safe and responsible fun. There’s nothing better than solo Keller on a Saturday night. Not sure where I’m supposed to be. Mind if I share your pod? I brought treats.

Consequences shmonsequences.

In their absence it seemed everyone in Florida had acquired PTSD and a medical marijuana card. Legal coffee and a dab? Well now. He wondered what the Suwannee County sheriffs would be doing now that they didn’t need to hassle kids smoking a little reefer around the fire. The days of bail money, magistrates and missed shows would hopefully be coming to an end.

Onward and upward. Next they were headed to Fool’s Engagement with Spacebug and Mott Guilty and then to Suwannee Rising with a group of involuntary nudists. Things were getting real, real fast. There was funk on the horizon. Enough to go around. For now the car was still running and one can’t ask for more than that. The wranglers are thrilled to have been picked up by FloydFest and Mountain Music Festival. Check us out for tickets and information and keep up if you can. Thanks for continuing to enjoy the iconic style and bold sophistication of the incomparable wook wranglers.

“You bought a ticket, you might as well see the show.” -C.W. Roanoke Mafia

#freebritney

The post The Spring Road: Part 1 appeared first on wook wranglers.

Baitbucket knew what to do when the harsh realities of winter started to fizzle and fray last nerve. The answer was the same as it had always been. Empty the coffers and start rolling down the mountain. Head south to where the climate suits the clothes and stop only when your tires get stuck in the sand. Festival season never really begins or ends depending on the relation to magnetic north, which was now sliding hard left. How fresh. Florida has always been the meca for fancy parties January through April. If you don’t know, now you do. The Maddox Ranch Medicine Show Cometh.

There was no guarantee when and if festivals were going to get started again but homegrown, grassroots endeavors were sure to be a big part of the reintroduction. Baby steps to the elevator. Such would be the case this year. Chase Holiday and Matt Johnson, consummate festival goons have put together a reason to get together in the soft spring weather of North Florida. C’mon. You know you want it.

Maddox Ranch Medicine Show

The Firewater Tent Revival, Bonnie Blue, Ginger Beard Man, The Pine Box Dwellers, Free Range Strange, Somatic, Este Loves, Tropico Blvd, Dirty Bird and the Flu, Awen Family Band, Road Soda, The Wandering Hours, John Waykin, Joy Wagon, Sweet As Folk, Leroy Sly, Glofish Music, BoDean and the Poachers, BlackSheep Troubadour, Devin Harris, Sweat Out The Devil, Space Panda, Jon Peavey, Jesse James, Jackson Weldon

A FestLife Event

Maddox Ranch Medicine Show March 12-13, comes to Lakeland Florida. For Tickets contact Chase Holiday Via Facebook This event is sponsored by Matt Johnson of Festlife and Rick Forbrich Sponsored by The Peacelovemusic Movement and Gulf Coast Swamp Hippies.

2505 W Bella Vista St Lakeland, FL 33810

Maddox Ranch is more than 80 acres of open land with oak trees, solar showers and lots of farm critters. It is open for music festivals, camping, weddings and any events that warrant an outdoor setting. This is primitive camping with generators available for rent.

They are able to provide several kinds of entertainment from fire spinning performances, live music and artistic dancing along with other entertainment.

Special thanks to Richard & Lynne Maddox

The logo and advertisement campaign was done by Kenny Henderson. Bean Spence, Rainey Dae Tiegs and Kenny Henderson will be doing live painting and art installations.

Day passes are 65$, not available for presale. No dogs. This is a working ranch with animals that can harm your animal. When they say no dogs they can’t mean Chihuahuas. Maybe they’re afraid the pigs will eat the Chihuahuas. It is a real thing.

This is a limited capacity, socially distanced, outdoor event. Masks will be provided at the gate. Tickets go on sale Feb 10th on Eventbright. 100$. After March 3rd tickets go up to 125$ RV Campers pass 25$ on top of ticket price. Gates open at noon Friday.

Maddox Ranch in Lakeland, Fl.

100$ Ticket. Tickets goes on sale Feb 10. Gates open Noon Friday. March 12. After March 3rd Tickets go up to 125$.

RV and Campers are an additional 25$. No Hookups… BYOB. Bringing a Golf Cart? Message Chase Holliday for the golf cart rules and so he can get a count on how many may be rolling around…

This is a campout event. Room service means orange juice and champagne.

The peacelovemusic movement is a wonderful community on facebook that share music art and the mysteries of the life experience. Its founder Jarod Richardson created this page in the past year. The peacelovemusic movement is a network of like minded individuals, dedicated to uplifting, educating and supporting one another. Their main goal is to be an outlet for the teacher and student, the player and audience, and the creator and consumer alike. Make sure you tune in at Maddox Ranch to “the peacelovemusic movement stage” to see this star studded cast of pickers n players. Like them on their Facebook page.

The coffers are full enough. And that comes with a huge question mark. Keep up with the wranglers as they head south for the return of the festival season.

Visit the Kamp Happiness Hobo Kamp and Interactive Recreation Experience at the Maddox Ranch Medicine Show. Face painting, free swag and experimental narcotics with Mott Guilty and Dr. Thermometer. Check out the Relative Importance of Sleep at a Festival and more from the wrangler cavalcade of whimsy. Sheesh. Stay tuned pretty ones, Spring is about to be sprung. Oh la la. You know what’s up.

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