Hey there, Rocketeers! I'm coming to you live from some kinda shady hotel outside of Manchester, TN. Population - Bonnaroo. Seriously, there's nothing around here except for Bonnaroo. Although there's a hot dog stand called The Dog House across the street that is calling my name. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get back to the hotel to blog Thursday night after seeing the mind-blowing, change-your-life, other-praise-I-can-hyphenate National show.
I'll probably write more about the show later on, but for now I'll just say that as soon as the show ended, two girls in front of me started making out, and I thought to myself, 'Wow, one of the best shows I've seen in years followed by two girls making out right in front of me. Perhaps I can die happy now?' This elated feeling managed to stick with me for the next three and a half hours wherein my cell phone died, I was separated from my ride to the hotel, wandered around looking for some friends who were staying on grounds, and then finally had to borrow a few different strangers' cell phones before getting in touch with them and sleeping in their RV. And all my friends thought I was dead. But seriously, the show was so damn good that I didn't care one bit.
I have to get back to the festival soon, so I'll just tell you what I've seen so far, and you can email me or comment about who you want to hear about. The list thusfar: The National, Cold War Kids, Kings of Leon, two or three songs of Hot Chip, Lily Allen (wasted!), and David Cross with Aziz Ansari and Nick Kroll.
Oh, and I also had fried alligator, which tasted like chicken but with the consistency of fried clam. Which is exactly what I would have expected if you had asked me beforehand what alligator might taste like. Anyway, before I head back out into the dust bowl, I leave you with some words from The National that I think sum up my experience so far.
Post written at 11:30 AM Saturday, but the wi-fi signal I picked up for a minute died.
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