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August 12, 2005
Reggae on the River Report
My insane brother is driving me crazy playing Iron Maiden on his new electric guitar to a video of one of their concerts in Rio--as if the Ozzfest last night weren't enough for him?!--and so I am compelled to blog about another genre of music that I don't quite understand: Reggae.
Going to Reggae on the River had very little to do with an affinity for anyone on the bill (other than Ozomatli), and much more to do with my increasing groupie tendencies, and a general policy of accepting invitations when present themselves. That, and I hardly need an excuse to get into the car for an adventure!
When Mahea and I showed up Saturday morning, our will-call wristbands were nowhere to be found. We had to track down Andrew, my Organic Valley connection... I told Mahea that he was a pretty straight-laced guy, and would probably be wearing an Organic Valley polo shirt or something. Of course he shows up in a sarong (or as Timmy would say, a "So Wrong")... He couldn't sort out the mixup either, and so Paul had to be summoned. Paul is apparently in charge of the whole festival. When the big sponsors talk, Paul makes things happen.
"I'm sorry there's a problem Andrew, let me take care of it."
"No, I don't want maroon wristbands. I want the ones that will get them backstage."
And thank goodness for that privilege, or we might have died in the 115 degree direct sun. In the backstage shade it may have only been 109, and instead of frying we were drinking endless hibiscus tea and too much yerba mate lemonade.
There was a picture of Danny on the wall of photos of previous festival artists, which made me happy, though it didn't quite make up for the fact that he booked the Du Uy Quintet a gig that night in Healdsburg and so couldn't join the festivities.
I never was able to track down Vinyl's Lex or Billy, who were supposed to be working the stage, though I was surprised to run into Will, the man known as Suede, and some Mill Valley riff raff.
After 11 hours on Saturday we'd had enough. Sunday was spent pursuing fog, glorious fog on the coast, and enjoying a swimming hole on an entirely hippie-free river. ROTR was a fun cultural experience to have, once. Three cheers for road trips with Mahea, though! I think my stomach is still sore from laughing so hard for two days straight.
Posted by Elizabeth at August 12, 2005 11:19 PM