Been a great Father's Day for me... a wonderful, heartfelt letter from the son and a mushy card from the Darling Bride. Made a call to Dad.
You're probably wondering why I'm posting during Bonnaroo. Easy: I had to LEAVE Friday night, just minutes before Paul McCartney took the stage. Why? I had to go to the Emergency Room! Blood tests, xrays and a CT scan later, the doc's best guess for my severe abdominal pain was...
I never saw a single concert.
But you know what? It's really okay. Really. I was surrounded by drugged-out, alcohol-fueled 23-year olds. 90,000 of them! We were packed in there so tightly that sardines would complain... and (of course) I was the weird old man to their young eyes and avoided like the plague.
But you know what? It was a learning experience that I will never again repeat. My big bed and hot shower at home* were a wonderful consolation to the loss of my deposit. It's nice to be home, and I'm improving slowly but surely as this garbage makes its way through my system in ways I need not detail here.
*-There were about 2000 people in Staff Lot B where I was camped, and 14 showers for everyone. I got up at 5:15 AM just to go shower while everyone was passed out and there was hot water. There were about 25 Port-O-Potties for us all, and they were disgustingly under-serviced. I've roughed it many times, folks, but Bonnaroo takes the prize. Never again.