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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A Little More Country and A Little More Rock and Roll Than Even The Osmonds

If you have ever been on a first date or on a long road trip or have spent your first night at college huddled together on the floor of a dorm room down the way, then you have possibly played the Desert Island game. It’s a deceptively simple game—a moment to learn, a lifetime to master.

The rules are pretty much this: you are going to be stuck on a desert island, and you can only have one movie/book/album/McDonald’s Extra Value Meal for the rest of time. What do you take with you?

The eyes of your date or travel companions or batch of friends you are about to forge lifelong relationships with fall on you, and then you have to give your answer.

We aren’t on a first date, you really shouldn’t be reading this while operating a moving vehicle, and my legs would fall asleep after like eight minutes of sitting on some Freshman’s Target area rug their parents bought for their dorm room floor. Which is another way of saying you will never know my answers to these very important questions. (Okay: American Beauty/East of Eden/Raising Sand/No. 2 with extra pickles and a Dr. Pepper). Continue reading