Last week I went to my first Bonnaroo, a fact I repeated probably close to a hundred times over the course of the week I was there. It was, in fact, my first full weekend, camped out music festival period. I've been to Jazz Fest in New Orleans and the Juke Joint Festival in Clarksdale and plenty of smaller music festivals around the country, but they were all day-trips. This was different. I'll admit I was a little nervous about it as I knew I would be twice as old as most of the people in attendance, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. Better late than never, right? And actually it's those nerves that made it that much more exciting to be there. It turned out to be a really amazing experience and I'm really glad I went. As the weekend wore on though, the question changed from how many times I'd been to Bonnaroo to if I'm coming back next year. When my answer was "probably not", I got a lot of hurt and quizzical looks. Hadn't I had fun? I really did, I answered, but there are so many other things to do and places to explore. This may very well not be my last Bonnaroo. I'd love to go back to The Farm and do it again, but only if it fits into my schedule. You see, while Bonnaroo was a great experience, I've had lots of comparable experiences in my life and through them all, going back again was probably never as good as the first time. While I understand that for a lot of people it's hard to put yourself out there in front of a new bus over and over again, I'm here to argue that it's worth it. Even if you get run over now and again, it'll still be worth it You can only ever do anything for the first time once, and I plan to live out as many firsts as this world allows.
It was certainly an interesting week out at Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival in Manchester, Tennessee. Since I was there all week, I don't have much else to write about today. It was both wonderful and strange to park my van for a week and just leave it there, but it didn't move an inch from when I arrived last Tuesday until I left "The Farm" the following Monday. When I did leave, it was hot and I was pretty tired and had already seen what I had come to see in Tennessee, so I pretty much made a beeline towards home. And that is where I am writing this from today - home sweet home, Washington D.C. Two things happened out in the world while I was tucked away in Manchester though, both of which brought out some pretty strong emotions. First, my Washington Capitals won the Stanley Cup for the first time, which was long overdue and very well deserved, so congratulations to them. Sadly that same night we lost one of our own as Anthony Bourdain took his own life in France. I had met Tony once, and he seemed to be the same in person as he was on TV. His books and his shows had a deep impact, not just on me but on many. He changed the whole travel show genre by focusing on real people and real places - places I've been and places I'd like to go. Before Tony travel shows all seemed to be about 5 star resorts and palm trees and umbrella drinks - places I couldn't afford and didn't really want to go anyway. His shows were raw and gritty and real and game changing. They showed the world as it really is: challenging, sometimes ugly but full of good people, delicious and always beautiful. Thank you Tony for all your inspiration through the years, and I hope you're resting easy somewhere tonight. Those being said, this is how I spent this week on (or more accurately off) the road…
