Manchester United: Bonnaroo 2015

There is a question I have feared to answer: if I had been alive at the time, would I have gone to Woodstock? It’s easy to give the answer you would like to be true for these sorts of things, isn’t it? It’s easy to be like “duh, I would be there before you could say ‘Jefferson Airplane and I both want somebody to love, we both need somebody to love, we would both love somebody to love’.” It’s easy, yes, but is it true? I didn’t know. Here is what I did know: I knew that I love taking showers. I knew that I love drinking my coffee in the morning. I knew that I feel sometimes an irrepressible need to follow rules. I knew I am not in love with the idea of looking at the poop of strangers whenever I enter a portable bathroom. I knew that I run out of social power and require long sips of solitude to get some life back into me. I knew that my sense of direction is the worst in the history of humankind and that I get easily lost while driving which may have prevented me from ever finding the field. I knew that if I don’t eat at regular intervals, I become a cross between the Incredible Hulk and a teething honey badger with a salty hangnail. Continue reading

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On Gathering Moss: The Moves Like Jagger

Of all human experiences, I think we will all agree that there is one in particular that ties us all together most perfectly: that time you were young and an older person told you to look out the car window or at some pile of rocks or some signpost by a scenic overlook and was like “this is important—you need to look at this because it’s history and you might never see it again.” Continue reading