ACL Festival Recap - The Good, The Bad, and The Bloody

Last Friday, Saturday, and Sunday constituted the 5th Annual Austin City Limits festival at Zilker Park here in Austin, Texas. Not coincidentally, it was also my 5th ACL Festival. And I have to say it was a seriously good time. Albeit a seriously punishing good time.

THE MUSIC

I'll start with the music since, after all, ACL is primarily about the music. And there was a whole lotta music going on, much of which I got to see and/or hear including all or some of the shows by:

* Gnarls Barkley
* Cat Power
* Thievery Corporation
* Ray Lamontagne
* John Mayer
* Van Morrison
* Ben Kweller
* Nada Surf
* TV on the Radio
* The Shins
* Aimee Mann
* The Raconteurs
* Brazillian Girls
* Willie Nelson
* Matisyahu
* The New Pornographers
* The Flaming Lips
* G.Love & Special Sauce
* Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

Best of the Music - There was way too much good stuff to cover it all here. These are just the highlights that really stood out:

Flaming Lips: These guys put on the best show of all, in my opinion. They sounded amazing, were super into the scene, played lots of crowd-pleasers, and actually put on a real razzle-dazzle show complete with dancing santas and balloons and confetti, etc. It was a kickin' good time with lots of crowd participation. A festival highlight for sure.

Raconteurs: Jack White is a force of nature and a force to be reckoned with. I prefer the White Stripes to the Raconteurs, but Jack White clearly holds his own wherever he goes and these guys rocked the fest. Sounded amazing. Must. buy. disc. Oh - and his plaid pants and wicked hair were the bomb.

The New Pornographers: I wasn't sure if Neko would be with them or not since she's touring on her solo album now too. But she was there and therefore they sounded great and put on a solid show.

The Shins: I know every song of theirs and they kicked out a sing-along-set that made me smile.

New Discoveries - one of the things I like best about ACL Fest is discovering new bands that I hadn't heard before but hear at the festival and find out I like a lot. Last year it was The Frames. This year it was Brazillian Girls (thanks, Mike L.!) and TV on the Radio. Keepers for sure.

Worst of the Music:

Ben Kweller. Not because I don't like him. To the contrary - I love his stuff and he was one of the acts I was most pumped to see. Not because he sounded bad. He didn't - he sounded amazing. So why?, you wonder... Because he got a fucking bloody nose which caused him to start late and finish half an hour early! Now this guy is young and he's married. In fact, he's a brand new father. He seems to have his shit together and doesn't strike me as the cocaine type. But, then again, his allergy story didn't ring true. I mean, who the hell gets a bloody nose from allergies? And it's not exactly like it was dry out. I think the relative humidity was over 200% that day. And even if he did need to stop playing to control the bleeding (the tampons he shoved in his nose didn't seem to do the trick), why did he have to bail with 30 minutes left in his set? Have you ever had a bloody nose that lasted more than 5 minutes? Fine - take a break for 5 or even 10 minutes and then get your ass back out there and give the people (me!) what they want!!!! I don't mean to be an unsympathetic and callous bitch. But I can't help it. That's just who I am.

The Shins aftershow at Stubbs: I guess I should have done a bit more research about what time this so-called aftershow began and ended. I left ACL after Van Morrison and made a beeline through the crowd to my bike. Then I rode to my car that was parked at my friend's house in Bouldin. Then I drove home. On the way I quickly stopped to pick up the cute 27-year-old who I had met at the fest. I dropped him off at his car on 10th St. and kept motoring for home. I ran in, grabbed my bike off the car rack, tossed it in the house, saddled Otis up and took him for a jaunt around the block and then I was off again to the Shins show. 5 minutes later, I had parked and was walking to the door. It was pretty late, but it was, after all, an after show so I hoped I'd be okay and they'd still be going. As I walked super-fast from my car to the entrance of Stubbs, I could hear them playing. Aaaah - they sounded great! I know this song! So with an even bigger spring in my step, I continued toward the gate, now singing in my head and even more excited to see the rest of this show. But as I rounded the corner onto Red River and was almost there, the song ended. And I heard the lead singer say, "Good Night, Austin!" And as I got almost to the gate, I realized I was swimming upstream as a forceful tide of satisfied Shins fans made their way out. To go home. Show over. Bummer. (But they played the next day at ACL so at least I still got to see 'em).

THE WEATHER

Last year's ACL was the closest equivalent to hell I've encountered here on earth in terms of record-breaking triple-digit infernal temperatures that felt more like being in a convection oven than in a beautiful park. But that wasn't all - the hellish heat was combined with a pervasive and apocalyptic dust that managed to seep into every orifice and stifle all breathing. Certainly this year's festival was exponentially better by comparison, but then again, the 9th ring of hell would be better by comparison. This year, the dust was not a problem. And for that I'm grateful. The heat and humidity, however, were turned on in full force. I spent my days soaking wet with sweat and covered in a thick and sticky layer of grime. What can I say? That's just how it was. It has become part of the ACL tradition, frankly. I don't think it would feel quite right if the weather were actually cool and bearable for ACL. But I'm definitely willing to give it a try.

THE PEOPLE:

One of the things that I like best about this festival is that it's in Austin. And the people in Austin are a laid back and cool bunch. Everyone seems to get along and be cool. Even when in crowded situations under oppressive heat. In any other city, there would be fights and shoving and yelling in such settings. "You can't leave your blanket there if you're not on it!"; "Fuck you, asshole"... But not in Austin. Here we just want everyone to have fun and enjoy the music and the festival. We respect everyone's right to just do their own thing and whether you're on your blanket or not, we'll try as hard as we can not to step on it as we make our way through the sea of people to try to find our way to the mixing board to meet our friends. I love it!

Meeting up with friends can be a challenge at ACL fest. I usually go with a friend or two each year but have made tentative plans to meet up at the festival with about 10 more friends, many of whom are with their own different groups of friends. This can be a daunting and difficult task. But it's all good. Especially with the use of text-messaging and landmark flags. "10 feet behind the pirate flag to the right of the sound board" would be all it takes to find your peeps. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all those suckers who lugged around giant flags all weekend that I could then use as landmarks for my friends. Yo! Thanks! Y'all were so helpful. The other funny thing about trying to hook up with friends at ACL is that it seems so hard to find the friends you're actually looking for sometimes, but almost inevitably, you end up randomly bumping into all kinds of people you know, haven't seen in ages, and hadn't even been aware were going to be at ACL. I've run into people in past years from other cities who were just there for ACL and who I hadn't seen in years. Yet it took me 30 minutes to find the friend I was trying to locate even though we were standing 15 feet from eachother and texting constantly. It's pretty funny and cool. And just one of those ACL things.

The other thing about ACL is that it's really easy to meet new people. And let's face it - there are some seriously good-looking people there who are pretty fun to meet if only just to stare at between songs. I met a smokin' hot guy from Canada who was going to school in Ireland. Holy shit that guy was hot! Really nice, too. And a cute 27-year old boy and I struck up a conversation during John Mayer's set. He thought I was 25. Even though he was cute and smart and funny, I mostly love him for thinking I was 25. Granted, it was dark by then, but still...

Even when you're not meeting people, just watching people at ACL is worth the price of admission. Everyone is represented there. Truly the good, the bad, and the random. I saw everything from a guy in tweed wool pants and a sweater (picture heat index close to 100 degrees, super humid, and full sun) to women parading around in only bikinis (tops and bottoms) to a guy who was wearing some sort of crazy crocheted overalls that were super tight. And everything in between. Just reading T-shirts while weaving through the crowds was a fun pasttime. Good stuff. Much better than even the airport for people watching. And so many more people to watch.

THE AMENITIES

To summarize the VIP amenities in a word, they RAWKED!!! Seriously, the VIP grove was like a little oasis outside of the fray of ACL. There were big shade trees and adirondack chairs all over. Central Market catered lunch and dinner every day with offerings such as grilled salmon with rosemary roasted potatoes, salad, corn on the cob, fajitas with rice and beans and flan, bbq with all the fixins and banana pudding. Every day there was also happy hour from 3:30 - 5:30 during which local restaurants offered various treats. Teo's was there with gelato plus Lambert's and Austin Java and many others. The selections were tasty and changed daily. But really all day was happy hour in the grove since the free wine, beer, and my favorite - Tito's - bars were open all day each day for thirst quenching libations. But there was more! Milk & Honey spa was there offering bandanas dipped in ice water w/peppermint oil for cooling off and they had free massages and smoothies and all kinds of other swag. But the best part - rivaling even the Tito's bar - were the air conditioned restrooms complete with flush toilets, mirrors, sinks, soap, and baby wipes.

I was the only one of the friends I went with who had a VIP pass so I would frequently sneak off to enjoy my extra amenities while they waited in line for a filthy port-a-pot. At one point, however, I waited in the plebe beer line with my friend, Katie. While we were waiting, I regaled her with the litany of creature comforts available for the asking in the VIP grove. When I mentioned the Tito's bar, the guy in line ahead of us turned around and asked me where it was. My friend said, "oh, she's talking about the VIP grove." The guy then looked at me and said, "how did you get to be a VIP?!", to which my friend merely replied, "she isn't". And my friend is right. Really I'm not. But I was for the weekend and it sure was nice! Now I have to work on my friend to make sure I get another one next year. It's like flying coach after having gone first class... now I'm spoiled and there's no going back.

Til next year!

This Weekend in Six Letters...

ACL VIP!

Let the fun begin...

Running Revolution

It's strange how life works. How, inevitably, our moods and attitudes about things change over time. Often these shifts occur so gradually and subtly that by the time we notice the differences, we can't identify their origins.

I can think of many example in my own life experience. But the one that's on my mind now is running. I started running about ten years ago and always really enjoyed it. It was such a fun way to lose myself and push myself and be alone and be social and just be.

At first I only ran around my neighborhood with a friend. Then I started straying farther from home and adding on miles. After that I began to dabble in organized runs and races. Eventually I found myself crossing the finish line with 26.2 miles in my wake. And then I started coaching other runners to help them discover the joy of putting one foot in front of the other quickly and repeatedly. I went from assistant coach to head coach. Then I coached 2 groups simultaneously for a while.

And before I knew it, running for me had changed. It wasn't fun anymore but felt more like a chore - something I had to do for others; something that was sucking up time I desperately needed for myself. And once running ceased to be my means of relieving stress and taking care of myself, I was left without a substitute. I found myself feeling frustrated and cranky and disconnected.

Even during this time, I kept running. Although I scaled back my mileage significantly. And I never looked forward to my runs like I used to. Actually, I dreaded them. And all the while I was painfully aware of how much I used to love running and how much I used to get out of it. But I couldn't figure out how to get the good parts back. Or even why or how they went away in the first place.

I thought about it a lot. And I spent a lot of time trying to make sense of it all. All the while I continued to reluctantly meet my running buddy at the trail as usual and go through the motions of running, albeit slowly.

And then, seemingly suddenly, after a couple of months of trudging along, mile after miserable mile, I had a good run. And then another. I started to not only enjoy my runs but I actually found myself looking forward to the next one. Instead of having to push myself to run a couple of days a week, I now have to force myself to take a day off from running once a week. And on those days off, I miss it!

It's strange how life works. How, inevitably, our moods and attitudes about things change over time. Often these shifts occur so gradually and subtly that by the time we notice the differences, we can't identify their origins...

I Win!

I called my sister tonight to tell her a funny (but gross) story about the guy next to me in my bikram (hot) yoga class yesterday who kept farting without seeming to make any effort not to. (You know, like really old people do, except this guy wasn't really old) My sister still appreciates this kind of story even though she's well beyond the age at which she should. (That's why I love her).

At first, I reached her voicemail and just left a message telling her to call me because I had a funny story to tell her. Then, shortly after that, she called me back from her cell phone.

Before I had a chance to start recounting the story of the flatulent yogi dude, my sister immediately said, "I'll have you know I'm just now leaving the office and heading to the gym. Add an hour and feel sorry for me." (she lives in D.C. where it's an hour later than it is here).

I immediately retorted, "Well I just got home from the office too so subtract a zero from your paycheck and feel even more sorry for me!" (she makes a ton of money)(I don't).

She then quickly relented and thanked me for making her feel better.

"Ha ha! I win!", I gloated.

I did win, didn't I?...

Pod People

Sometimes more than others, I notice how futuristic our world has become. I remember when I was a kid in grade school, we used to speculate about what things would be like in the year 2000. We hypothesized about "people-movers" and small rounded cars that ran on electricity.

It's strange how "progress" just happens when the average joe isn't paying any attention. Somehow, without our even noticing, the future insidiously manages to seep into our everyday lives before we even realize what's happening.

Now we all take "people-movers" and hybrid cars for granted. And so much more. We are constantly being bombarded by electronic ads and bar codes control almost everything. We can communicate with others across the globe in seconds and we are able to find information about anything immediately with the mere push of a button. People spend their time walking around and talking on tiny phones which they can also use to surf the web or take pictures. It's kind of crazy if you stop to consider it all.

I'm not sure if all this "progress" is really for the best. Everything is a tradeoff and I think we give up certain things by agreeing, even if only by our acquiescence, to live this modern lifestyle.

But the one thing I am sure of is that the ipod is one of the single best inventions ever. I mean it - ever. Almost exclusively, I use mine for running and cycling. That said, during those times, I don't just like it but I actually have grown to need it. In all honesty, I would rather go on a long run with a broken leg than without my ipod. Yes, it's true.

Like the clothes in my closet, my playlists change according to what's current and my taste at any given time. That said, there are some classics that will never grow old and will always form the backbone of my collection including some old Replacements songs, the Cure, Wilco, REM, Beastie Boys, the Gourds, U2, and yes - even some Steely Dan. I'll admit it.

Music, like nothing else, has the power to profoundly affect my moods. While Thom York might be the perfect CD choice for settling down with a glass of wine at the end of the day, the tunes selected for my ipod serve to give me energy and urge me farther and faster as I run or ride. Which songs do that for me at any given time is subject to change since I get tired of some and excited about others at different times. As one song loses its ability to give me a charge and inspire me, another takes its place.

Right now, some of my current favorites on the ipod include: Arctic Monkeys - I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor; White Stripes - Seven Nation Army; OK GO - Here It Goes Again; Modest Mouse - Float On; RHCP - Dani California and many others.

Depending on my mood, how hard I'm pushing, and what else is on my mind, I may or may not listen to lyrics while I run or ride. Sometimes it's just the rhythm of a song that motivates me and keeps me going. Other times I focus on the lyrics and think about them and what they might mean.

There are so many great lyrics out there. But let's face it, some really stand out. I think it's fair to say that the most classic lyrics of all time come from the song, "Big Mouth Strikes Again" by Morrissey. And, in particular, the lines that say:

Sweetness, sweetness, I was only joking
When I said by rights you should be
Bludgeoned in your bed

No matter how hot or spent I am during a workout, that one always makes me grin. And that's worth a lot - whether you think it's progress or not.

Ashes to Ashes

I was supposed to go to a birthday party tonight, but I ended up having to work late. My friends called me when they were leaving but I was still at the office and told them to just go ahead without me. By the time I got home, I didn't feel like joining them.

Instead, I decided to finally go to the vet's office to pick up Paddington's ashes. When I returned from Seattle, there was a message on my home machine telling me they were ready. Every day since then I have thought that I really need to go pick them up but, for some reason, I have been putting it off. I guess I still don't want to believe that he's gone and I knew that picking up his ashes would make it that much more real.

Plus I didn't know what to expect at all and I was kind of scared. I've been familiar with the concept of cremation since I was a kid and long ago I decided that I want to be cremated after I die. But I didn't know, nor had I ever really thought about, the specifics of what the actual ashes are like.

In movies, you always see people with these tiny urns that are supposed to contain the ashes of the characters' loved ones. I remember watching an episode of Nip/Tuck not that long before Paddi died. In one scene, they went out to the ocean to scatter the ashes of a character who died on the show (the woman with whom Sean had the affair). In that episode, a bunch of people were there and they all tossed the ashes into the ocean for a long time. I remember thinking, "jeez - how the hell many ashes could there possibly be from this one woman?!" I guess I assumed that something about the process reduces everything down and I really thought I would just get a tiny little urn in which Paddi's remains would be housed.

Part of the reason I didn't want to pick them up before now, in addition to not wanting to face the reality of his death, was that I've had a lot going on in the evenings since I've been back and I was concerned that if I picked them up on the way to somewhere else, the lid to the urn might fall off and the ashes could spill or otherwise be damaged in the car.

When I finally picked them up tonight, it was strange. I've been doing well recently and have been focusing mostly on all the good times and adventures he and I had together and how lucky I was that he lived as long and healthy of a life as he did. I haven't cried at all lately - not since the first few days after his passing. But when I got to the vet's office, it all came rushing back to me and the tears returned.

The girl behind the counter handed me a big shopping bag. It was super heavy and contained a rather large box. I guess I shouldn't be surprised since Paddi was a big dog and weighed almost 100 pounds. But I suppose since I was expecting the tiny urn like in the movies, the size and heft of the box really shocked me.

It's very strange too to think that it's Paddington in that box. I mean, in one sense it is him, but not really. I haven't opened the box yet. I guess there is some kind of urn inside the box but I don't think I'll open any of it until I'm ready to scatter his ashes.

Even as I've been putting off picking them up, I have been thinking a lot about what I would eventually do with Paddi's ashes once I had them. I've decided that I will take Otis on a road trip to Guadalupe Mountains National Park over Christmas to scatter them there - in the mountains. Paddi and I were there in 2001 during our year of VW travels together so it's a meaningful place for us. Plus Otis and I have not yet taken a road trip and this will be a neat chance for us to do so and have some adventures of our own.

The weather will be nice and cool at that time of year so we can camp along the way. And if we feel like it, we just might spend New Year's at the Thunderbird in Marfa.

Then, in a brand new year, we'll come back home and go about our regular business, I suppose. Proper respects having been paid, and the proverbial torch having been passed.

Gone but never forgotten. And forever loved.

Otis the Protector?

Sometimes I wonder whether Otis would protect me if I were ever in harm's way.


He's not a super heavy sleeper so if there were an intruder, I think he would at least wake up to see what was going on.


However, I fear that even his best intentions to protect me could probably be very easily derailed by the prospect of a good belly rub.