We walked down the hill, soaking wet, and I said, "You know, if this is a bad day at work..."
"I know what you mean." he replied.
The festival closed at three on Sunday, and the rain again just absolutely had its way with my tent and all inside it. I got grumpy, and I got drunk. I send my half-hearted apologies to my brother's date ("Oh, fine, when you get back you can tell me all about your daddy issues!"); but being herself a like minded Scorpio, I don't believe she was anything but faintly amused by my loudmouthed antics. Also I thank her for the Frank Turner recommendation.
Friday evening I had the great fortune to make a quick buck helping out a film maker I know in recording an album release party for Myron Waldon. Let me say: buy his records. I really, really enjoyed it. I hope the footage I captured meets his expectations. It was an amazing feeling, moving at a steady clip though SoHo, to get to Penn. Station (yep, still hell) and finally to Seacaucus junction to meet Bryan and take the train north. We had a beer at the Junction Bar, and hopped the train to be met by our good friend, and aerialist-in-chief, Jayna Lee.
Saturday was a great day at the fair, and Saturday night brought us a wonderful cheap-beer fueled dance party on site. My FIRST order of business was to buy myself a beer. Second order of business was to buy a certain Vixen a beer. I was busying with myself with the task of getting drunk enough to dance when a good friend of mine, who is by the way among the last people I expected to show up, did just that with her dog tagging along. Now, for her, bringing Mikey to a dance party is par the course. I told her I'd be more than happy to Mikey-sit so she could have a good time, and she informed me that "Mikey the Purse" would totally get me laid. I was well pleased with this arrangement, and proceeded to wander around with Mikey's leash clipped to my belt. Here's the thing, though- I was much more eager to just enjoy the party, play with the dog, show him off. I was to some small degree the life of the party, Well, one of many "lives of the Party", of course, and really it was Mikey, not me; but the point is made. I'm more social than I am randy, and when the party was over, alone though I was, I counted it a win. Sunday, as I mentioned, rained pretty much for the whole day. We got two shows in, one of which was scheduled for after the fair closed anyway. The evening was spent playing word games with the delightful ladies at the hair braiding booth; and finally we retired to the pub. By that time I was cranky enough that six songs in the jukebox couldn't save me. I'm pretty sure I slept backstage, but some how woke up in my tent. Eight AM rolled around and I was soggy, hungover, and ready to get the hell OUT of those woods. So I packed a bag and started walking. about 2 miles out the rain came back, with a vengeance, and I stuck out my thumb. I got a ride to the station, changed my clothes, and grabbed coffee and and a sandwich at the deli across the street.
It's all part of the adventure.