The Bonnaroo Saga, Part Four: Finale.

 

5:45am on the farm.

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Sunday, 0500 hours.  I have set a new record for waking up early at Bonnaroo.  Once again, four hours of sleep is somehow enough for me.  I took a stroll around the site, checking out the locals in their early morning routine, trying to savor the moment.   Then I savored myself a fresh port-a-potty…man they’re great in the morning [...and only in the morning].

We checked out a short intimate set with Matisyahu at the Sonic Stage at noon, which turned out to be like 20 minutes of hebrew hymns and hasidic moans peppered with a few Matisfreestyles.  Odd, but cool nonetheless.   Mike Doughty’s Band had a humongous crowd at This Tent and rightfully so, because they were tearing the friggin place apart. I had never heard of them before but that performance alone put them in my everyday playlists.  The rest of the early day consisted of us taking it all in…just walking around, visiting all the tents and stands we hadn’t really seen, drinking a lot of beer and eating lots of expensive food.  Sunday was definitely the day of reflection…the day we all just wandered around, not really knowing (or caring) what we were going to do, but just trying to remember the way it all looked and felt.  We were close to the end of an amazing experience, a monumental event in all of our lives, and one that brought us impossibly closer as friends.

 

moe.

Once we got past the sentimental shit, it was time for moe.!!!!!!  We staked out a decent spot at What Stage and hung really low waiting for moe. to come on.  This group of 8 or 9 high-school/college freshmen-age dudes were hangin out in front of us, and MAN WERE THEY HANGING.  They looked like younger versions of the three of us, what we would have looked like if we had started hanging out when we were that age.  These kids were having the same awesome time we were, in the same place and with the same wide-eyed outlook that we had.  One of the dudes passed out in front of us and was unconscious for a good 45 minutes, while his buddies hung out and danced around, leaving him totally on his own…even though they were clearly concerned about their fallen comrade.

Me:  ”Hey man, is your buddy dead or what?”
Dude #3:  ”Who? Him? Yea, he’s cool.”
Me:  ”He looks like he’s having fun.”
Dude #3:  ”Yea, he’s still breathing.  Thats all that counts,
its fuckin Bonnaroo right man?”
Me:  ”[all-out laughter] Okay, man.”

The dude on the floor eventually woke up, but not before I snapped a sweet picture of Steven giving the thumbs-up over the comatose lad.  Sweet.

 

deceased? no. having a great time? yes.

moe. came on at around 5:40 and played 2 hours of absolutely RIDICULOUS music.  It was quite possibly the most outright FUN I’ve ever had at a concert.  I think it’s impossible to dislike moe., I really do…it just can’t happen.  The crowd was so unbelievably loud and into it…it felt like everyone their was best friends, all seeing a band they all loved.  I was happy to see the other Stevens enjoying themselves so much on a band I’ve loved and have waited so long to see.  Steven was still fairly new but had a fuck of a time, and Brendan…well Brendan absorbed the music via osmosis I guess because even though he slept through the entire show, he ‘heard’ every song and new they rocked. Hah.

When moe. was finished, we chilled out at our spot and waited patiently for Phil Lesh & Friends, the closing act of Bonnaroo.  As we waited, I know we had a deep conversation about life, our Bonnaroo experience, and what it meant to all of us, but I’ll be damned if I can repeat any of it.  I do remember looking around at the crowd and just soaking in every ounce of ‘roo around me.

Then, it hit me.

As I looked around and saw all the faces, all the people from all of the different walks of life, all the miles that had been travelled, and all of the anticipation that had mounted, all waiting for this moment to arrive, I realized that we were no longer 80,000 individual people.  In three days, we had all become one huge collective body of life.  We were all there for the same reason…each and every one of us left our lives for a few days to get away from it all, to escape to a world far away from everything we encountered on a daily basis…a place that could have been on another planet for all we knew.  We left it all behind to just have a good time for a few days.  This was undoubtedly the sickest weekend of the whole year for everyone there.  When it came down to it, we were all one gigantic piece of humanity, enjoying the shit out of a three-day music festival, apprciating just a sampling of the art that human beings are capable of.

Phil Lesh & Friends hit the stage and put on a GREAT show, filled with Grateful Dead tunes, extended jams, and an outrageous cast of characters – as it turns out, his “Friends” included John Scofield (who is completely untouchable by the way) and the amazing Joan Osbourne, who put on the single best performance of the entire weekend (if I had to name one).  Osbourne is light years beyond what anyone knows of her and what anyone in pop culture has been exposed to (she’s way more of a jazz singer than her mainstream singles show). She has one of the most sultry, hypnotic, and downright HOTTEST voices I’ve ever heard.  She had the entire audience in the palm of her hands, drooling over each note she belted out.  It was the closest I’d ever come to seeing the Dead in person, and it was really something else hearing all those classic Dead songs come to life in front of my eyes.  A huge, fitting end to an indescribable weekend.

 

Phil Lesh & Friends - the closing act of Bonnaroo 06.

We woke up the next morning with a quiet satisfaction glistening through our bodies.  Physically, we were tired as shit, drained from all of the awesomeness we had witness in the days prior.  We were 5 days without showering and didn;t really give two shits (the baby wipes and bottled water did us fine).  We knew we had a horribly long drive ahead of us, and Steven and I had work in the morning.  Still, we got up that day and packed with a sense of fulfillment and positivity that none of us could explain.  In our heads, we knew we had just gone through something much bigger than a marathon music fest.

Camp Louis Winthrope III - Monday morning.

 

This is what Bonnaroo was all about – the transformation from a mere inhabitant to a true liver of life, opening your eyes to things you never imagined could exist in this world, taking it all in and enjoying the ride…no expectations, no regrets, just being.  Beautiful.

The End.

"Runaway Truck Ramp."

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