Bonnarooing

Between joyous yells of “Bonnaroo” and the constant presence of hippies, freakers, burnouts and vagabonds it’s hard to remember the reality that waits just beyond the festival gates, what most of us call “the real world”. But for four days and three nights Bonnaroo 2009 was the apex of human experience; pressed, wrapped and sold in individual baggies to any who were brave enough to go for the ride.

For a seemingly frail guy like me, Bonnaroo presented many unique problems. Problems that I can assure you were a nice escape from the responsibilities of responsible life. Sunburns, chaffing, insect bites, forced intoxications and lastly the loss of mind are all factors in bringing any novice to his knees. Yet, something gentle and welcoming remains an integral part of the Bonnaroo experience. Mainly, the people who, despite the grueling conditions, show enormous generosity and fortitude that can only be explained as a necessity.

It’s this selfless behavior that binds the festival community together to form hundreds of personal relationships that may, or may not, continue outside of the festival grounds. Amazingly, it’s rather easy to make friends while walking around half-dead, smelling of puss in a drunken and confused stupor.

Bonnaroo, for myself, is as much about the people as it is about the bands. For example: Bruce and Carla, glass blowers from Asheville, North Carolina. The couple makes it out to festivals every year to sell their double and triple blown goods. Or Christie, who recently became domesticated, she ditches her husband every year to head to “The Roo”. Finally, Harry Perry, the greatest guitarist who has ever lived. That last sentence is tongue in cheek.

Now that Bonnaroo 2009 has passed I’m left feeling a bit empty inside. As if some primal part of my personality stayed behind in my camping spot. That part of every person that allows him to connect to others on a level deeper than what is typical. Human to human. Heart to heart. Mind to mind. The commonality of the human condition baffles me.