My First Bonnaroo Experience

The first thing I want to say is, if you've ever contemplated going to Bonnaroo - do it. Just to say that you did. Just so you can say you were there; you were part of this dirty, beautiful, musical mess.

The second thing I want to say is, if I never have to use a friggin porta-potty again in the entirety of my life, it will be too soon.

Bonnaroo is a place like nowhere else. It's an adult amusement park, a modern-day Woodstock, a playground where everyone is your best friend and where you can whole-heartedly buy into the notion that music changes lives, makes families of strangers, and alters the way you see the world.

You can be whoever you want, wear whatever you want, do whatever you want without repercussions or judgements. It's a freedom so rare in the modern chaos of our lives that you feel like you've entered a foreign country beyond the limits of laws and normalcy. It's incredible and moving and like nothing else you've experienced.

Now, to be fair, it's also harsh and dirty and loud and overwhelming. The most extreme variants of the human condition are on display unapologetically and you are, in fact, sharing portable bathroom facilities with 100,000 of your best pals in 90 degree Tennessee summer heat. I was uncomfortable and anxious a lot of the time.

But there were other times, like when I was standing in a crowd of tens of thousands staring up at Paul McCartney singing Hey Jude, swaying and watching people raise their lighters (actual lighters, not cell phones), that I felt just how vast we all are. How vast music is. It sounds so...existential...but I felt so connected to everything. And I wasn't even under the influence of narcotics. I was just under the influence of the music and the people and the sky. Tiny lanterns floated above all of us as the show was going on and it was just so beautiful. And I felt so lucky to be apart of it.

I mean, Jesus. It's Paul McCartney. The Beatle. Best buds with Clapton, Hendrix, and Dylan. I heard Blackbird. Live. It's an experience I'll never forget as long as I live.

Paul's show also provided a stark and welcome contrast to the over-abundance of electronic sounding, synth pop, techno dub step manufactured music created by DJs that sound like same hour-long track over and over that took up most stages after 11. I've been informed by my much hipper friends that this is what's cool now. And I'm sure it is, especially if you dig glow-sticks and day-glo paint. But that part of the festival just wasn't for me.

Other highlights included Local Natives and Cat Power, laughing harder than I have ever laughed in my life around our campsite with new friends, and being reminded that people en masse are still capable of being kind, open-minded, welcoming, and good. Positivity is a force that's too often squelched by traffic jams and jobs we hate and the constant pursuit of money. Breathing it in was as refreshing as cold water in the middle of the day.

So in conclusion, I got to spend 4 days re-learning the idea of being completely present, of what community means, and how powerful patience and a sense of humor can be.

I learned how much I hate sleeping on the ground, but if I'm tired enough, I can actually sleep anywhere.

I learned I don't mind heat half as much as I mind sweat. And that make-up and showers aren't as necessary and crucial to my building relationships as I thought.

I'd say that makes me pretty fortunate.

Happy Bonnaroo!

xo.