So, I bailed on Saturday and the Smashing Pumkpins and opted for Sunday, She and Him and the Flaming Lips. The deal was further sweetened when I called my friend Maggie Jones who said that they were on their way out the door for Forecastle and yes, I could have a ride.
Smuggling in 6 "mini" bottles of Gallows white wine (that Maggie, always thinking) is always a breeze when you're over thirty and have clean-ish hair. So our evening was off to a great start. $2 cups of ice and we were definitely on our way. Then I took a look around.
As I scanned the crowd I realized that I had left my lip ring, lucky dreadlock, hula-hoop, and inner bliss at home. Damn, I knew my purse felt a little light. The funny thing about it as I took another long gulp of wine (most of the kids wandering around the shakedown were carrying beers) I realized that the kids I was looking at were me just a few short years ago.
I realize this makes me sound like a codger, but for cryin' out loud I'm only 33. Why was I having so much disconnect? Why were these tanned and toned abs, purple striped hair and bangle bracelets making me so uncomfortable? I used to be cool, dammit!
So anyway, we stepped into a side stage event featuring "Cirque Beserk" from LA and the promised weirdos trotted out for choreographed trampoline bouncing. A contortion act appeared, as did a gal who hung from 40 foot curtains, tying them around different bodily joints and for 8 minutes she artfully, gracefully, simultaniously flew and fell through the air.
I don't guess I have to be so weird that I have to join a runaway circus made up of ex D&D junkies who live in their father's basement and ex strippers who are yoga teachers Monday through Friday, but there I had it.
These circus folk, like the dreadlock girls and men in guadalupe pants and Hempseed hats all had "real jobs", like me. I wasn't too old for this weekend event, I was just apparently just having an issue with letting my inner weirdo out. As I looked again at the hippie girls I remembered that I used to have tanned, toned abs, purple hair and an unsteady grasp on reality, but now I'm in a different stage of my life. Again, full disclosure: my grip on reality is still a little dodgy.
It may have been only 10 years ago that I was "those girls", but it felt like a lifetime ago. And as we walked around I felt a little sad that "Young Emily" and her carefree, drifting ways were sort of gone. Today I might not hulahoop at the festival, but I used to. And I've got my own groove going and I'm happy with that.
What made me happier? Realizing that "Team Drealock" had no idea that in the blink of an eye they would work their desk job and reminisce about being "Young Stacy", "Young Amanda", or more likely "Young Diva-Bliss Stafire".
Don't blink, my dream-chasing friends! One love! Jah Rules! Stir it up! Don't trust anyone over 30!
Party like a rock star today, fax like your life depends on it in 10 years.


