Ecstatic Truth or Dare

It gets sketchy from here on out.

I know that someone introduced me to a cute young guy who didn't like Richard Thompson: "I'm sure he's more talented than the Flaming Lips, but I'd rather see the Lips," he said, or something like it. I made a derisive comment about needing costumes to make the music work, but it was meant with affection. (I wonder if this was the same guy who later described Thompson's Bonnaroo set on a forum as "Southern blues-rock.")

It was just too exciting, and if I go on to gush about the frisson that went through our little band whenever Bobby the roadie moved a guitar or someone caught a glimpse of Our Man backstage, they're gonna haul me off to the See I'm Wearing His Ring Ward of the Galway To Graceland Institute for the Terminally Fannish.

The performance raised the entire place off the ground by about four inches, or so it seemed to me. I didn't look back much, but I sensed a huge welling of joy from the crowd, just as with the Uncle Earl set. I hope the guys in the band got it as well. I know that RT seemed to be making eye contact with some of us, now and again, though it could be stagecraft. If he did see us, I expect it amused him: a bunch of sweaty, 40-plus white people, dancing and singing with total abandon.

He emphasized the big guitar workouts: "Hard on Me," "Tear Stained Letter," etc. Of course we got "1952 Vincent Black Lightning." The guy I'm calling Mitch was saying something, before the set, about how I go to so many RT shows that I use this one as my "pee break." I was amused that someone with whom I've had maybe six conversations knows when I take a pee break.

"Take Care the Road You Choose" is now on YouTube, but the clip just doesn't do it justice. It does a nice job of showing the Other Tent, which was a wonderful shade canopy. (That "sawdust" I saw them dumping hours before? It was actually sand, and I enjoyed digging my bare feet into it as Mickie and I talked before the show.)

I just can't put more words to it. I can't. It was...fun.

We were just buoyant when it was over--people hugging and whatnot. I can't explain it...it all seems so silly now. And several of us immediately went for beers and the Ferris wheel. (I owe someone a round; I didn't foot the bill for either diversion.) I quaffed a Magic Hat Number 9 as we stood in the line for the ride. The heat didn't matter, for a little while. I was with My People.

Eventually, it was just me and Ike and Tina. Now here's where I did the only thing that maybe I'm a little ashamed of: I sneaked into VIP. I mean, I wanted to hang out with my friends in a laid-back atmosphere, and my camp was 17 miles away or whatever....

It reminded me of that old Saturday Night Live sketch where the guys wonder why women always go to the bathroom in bunches, so they sneak into the ladies', only to find a world of extravagance to which their gender bars them admittance. I guess I first felt that way when we walked through the air-conditioned dining tent with the lounge area featuring black leather sofas. Seeing the air-conditioned toilets and the complimentary showers was likewise awe-inspiring.

But what really made me jealous: Ike and Tina were pretty close to Centeroo, and they had space aplenty--effectively a corner lot on what was set up more like a Florida retirement community than a Dust Bowl refugee camp.

These two have been 'Rooing for years, and they know what they're doing. Shade canopy over the tent. Stuff hung on the walls of the tent. A comfy-looking bed. A porch area with chairs and a table. They even had their own toilet, just in case.

I drank their beer for a little while and chatted. It was one of my most pleasant memories of the day. I need a 'Roo where I get that sort of thing all the time.

Oh, one more thing: Before we got in there, before I took an illicit VIP shower (with authentic VIP garbage on the floor) and changed into my homemade Corncat T-shirt, Ike and I passed a woman in Centeroo who was wearing a dark-blue T-shirt with a photo on the front of a familiar feline. "Oh!" I exclaimed, pointing at her chest. "Nom nom nom!" So very, very cool. I wish I'd had more experiences like that. I wish I'd met the guy dressed as Burger King. Hell, I didn't even see any naked people.