Our cell phones are running low and Bonnaroo has set up a convenient cell phone charging tent. You show up, drop off your phone (provided they have a charger for it... you can't use your own), and come back in twenty minutes to a rejuvenated cell. We choose to lounge in the tent, which has couches, tv, and, most vitally, air conditioning. As we relax, an older man (definitely a Dad) approaches me. I am slightly weirded out, even when he tells me that he's from Larchmont. It takes me a moment to realize I am wearing my Larchmont Mamaroneck Little League hat. "Oh, cool," I respond.
"Well, I used to live in Larchmont for many years, but three years ago we moved to New Hampshire."
"Oh, really?" I half-ask, as if it's an actual question.
"Yep... used to live on Pryor," he replies.
"I live on Bay." I'm struggling to make conversation with this random Larchmont dad. Also, struggling to act like I'm not utterly sleep deprived and half hungover.
"Hey, do the Roberts still live there?"
"... That's me!" I am taken aback.
"You're not Charlie, are you?"
"No, I'm Sam," I clarify. It turns out the guy used to be Charlie's soccer coach and he's here semi-chaperoning his 17 year old daughter and her friend (but mostly just enjoying the jazz tent). I text Charlie who immediately knows who I'm talking about. He tells me not to race the guy, cause he'll school me. I don't think it will be an issue, but it's good to know. He asks me to give his daughter my cell number (just in case!) and I make some joke about how I'm being tricked into babysitting. I make the joke in such a way that I hope lets her know I would never dream of doing anything that could possibly ruin her Bonnaroo. About this time, we all realize our phones are charged and disperse. I am fairly confident the girl will not need to call me; as expected, I never receive a call.
The day properly begins with Railroad Earth. They're pretty standard jamband stuff. Kelsey and Teal are into them but DJ Shadow has succesfully snapped me out of my hippiedom. Good thing, too. A middle-aged man asks us if we have a pipe. Incidentally, we do. Specifically, Teal has an authentic Native American peace pipe. Sharing the pipe with this middle aged man triggers something; Teal will share her pipe at pretty much every single show for the remainder of the weekend. Eventually, she will even ask people to tie some sort of trinket onto one of the strings hanging off it as a symbol of the experience. See? Bonnaroo is all about community and sharing.
I leave Railroad Earth early to go see Dr. Dog, about whom I've heard good things. I don't spend much time in This tent, but I do enjoy what I hear. I meet up with Teal and Kelsey at Old Crow Medicine Show. We lounge on the field facing Which stage and try to prepare ourselves for the great bands soon to come. (Note how I haven't said who they are yet... that's suspense!) Old Crow Medicine Show is decent, though they finish with a brutalized version of Lay Lady Lay. I am amazed that Teal and Kelsey have never heard the song before and thus don't realize the atrocity they are witnessing.
Finally it's time for the first band we are dying to see: Gogol Bordello, the greatest gypsy-punk band in existence. The band is high energy, the accordians are rocking. We suspect one of the two backup singing/percussion/hotness girls is actually running the show. She shouts at the audience and generally seems to be in charge. It is magical; it is punk. Gogol Bordello tells us to start wearing purple and we listen. Granted, we don't have purple clothing with us, but we wish we did. For the finale, secretly-in-charge-girl throws her marching band-style bass drum into the audience. The lead singer crowd surfs over to it and proceeeds to sing his last verse from on top of a bass drum being held aloft by the crowd.
We are in awe. Apparently this is S.O.P. for a crazy band like Gogol Bordello. I think everyone secretly wants to be in Gogol Bordello.
More later.
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