Not a full day by any means, though I’ve put in the hours. I lay awake long into the night because it was warm and damp and cold and damp and something dripped on my head and IT was damp and the Falcon Lung was really getting to me… and then I was woken up by 8am by the patter of rain. What would’ve been gratefully welcomed the day before was quite literally a very rude awakening on our last day. Rain = a damp breakdown, and as we pulled up stakes to depart, tent stuck to grass stuck to tarp stuck to rope stuck to me. Still, once we were all up and moving, break down was relatively painless. I think I might’ve poked Heather with a pole accidentally but really it was on purpose, so that’s okay.
Breakfast with We’re About 9. Burritos. Weird teeth champing expressions betwixt Brian and I. Then Heather steps in and somehow makes it cute. Crepes. Slow in the making but worth the wait. Everything’s delicious and I should’ve asked what kind of hot sauce they use. We collect the much-lightened merch box and make our way to the car. Traversing the festival has been slowed CONSTANTLY by people stopping us and saying how much they’d Loved our performances… one of the most common sentences has been “ilyAIMY! I’ve been told I’ve GOT to see you!” We officially have buzz.
Making our way to the car is no exception, but we DO eventually make it to the Saturn and onto the road. A quarter-tank of gas later finds us at a Cracker Barrel almost literally embracing running water. Hell, I flushed BEFORE using the toilet just to hear the SOUND.
Well, and also because public restrooms, even when they’re NOT portapotties, are STILL public restrooms.
It’s been an amazing experience and we’ve discussed and it we’re definitely going back next year. Can’t stop us. Even if they ban us, we’ll sneak in under assumed names. Though this time I’ll bring shorts.
I mean Hell, I’ve GOT to go back. I went all the way to Falcon Ridge and ALL I GOT was this lousy t-shirt. And two hats. And a bunch of CDs. And a nasty case of Falcon Lung.
Other notes: Incredible sound. Everything tinkled into place all over the mountain. The Main Stage sound was clearer than any festival sound I’d ever heard before. One of the sound techs reports: It’s all math. I-83 continues to be our nemesis as we hit construction at 7pm on a SUNDAY. I like watching goats eat and cows run. I can’t imagine what kind of service a service dachshund can provide. Acoustic bass guitar with a swappable fretless neck? Yes please! Spray-on sunblock = awesome. Girl singing “Sweet Child of Mine” at the Front Porch had one HELL of a voice. “Flick Lives”. Themoon coming over the mountain was a beautiful bloody sickle. And the moon setting over the other mountain in the morning was a ghostly sliver. Mark Daniels is psychic. No, he claims to be prescient. I thought I’d lost my hat, but I didn’t. So I bought a second one. The second one was bought from a man who said “this is a gift, isn’t it – you don’t look like a baseball cap kind of guy”. Fuck you man, the hat looks GREAT on me! Thought I’d lost my flashlight. Found it. Thought I’d lost my tuner. Found it. Aaron Nathans is fun and kind of cute. I mean that in a manly way. Bethel Steel is someone I ought to bloody well know by now, but I have trouble remembering cute women because I’m afraid to look at them. Weird, I know. Also – I got Rick Rolled by Aaron Nathans at Falcon Ridge. This would make a great t-shirt. Your shirt is both ominous and devious! (remark about my rabbit “world domination” t-shirt from an 8 year-old!!)
Below are a bunch of photos from Falcon Ridge 2011 that I think I never posted to the Journal… HOPEFULLY I can get Heather to caption them (since she’s got an actual MEMORY)!!
Leave a Reply