I think I'm gonna write this next part kinda as it comes out, but I think there's a good chunk of this that probably doesn't go in the final story-- so just keep that in mind.
I had some trepidation about the large stage shows. I have never been good with crowds. When I was twenty I went to London-- I had a friend in an exchange program and I stayed with him for a couple days. We went to the changing of the guard and I became so agitated that my friend was kinda shocked.
"You aren't good with crowds. Why didn't you tell me, we didn't have to do this."
But I hadn't really known. It just got worse over the years until I won free tickets to see Lenny Kravitz at the Cynthia Woods Mitchell pavilion-- I struggled through the pre-shows only to realize that when the "whole audience" arrived I couldn't take it-- I left during the second Kravitz song and haven't been to another large scale concert. I have gone to the 30A festival like four times and have never once even considered going to the "main stage" even when it was someone I would have liked to see.
In fact, I think maybe I should talk about the differences in these festivals to illustrate my ideosyncracies. 30A is appealing because it has a lot of singer songwriters. Some of them are young and new to you and that's exciting. Some of them you know and love and that's exciting. Then venues are local restaurants and bars and that's fun. But I really don't like it. You have to drive back and forth and the parking is awful. But there's also some X factor that is just my special problem. I thought it was going to be this beautiful coastal vistas situation-- and it isn't; the whole area is so developed that you can't even really see the ocean just jillions and jillions of condos or whatever that they are so proud of. I made the mistake of going to a food event and coming in contact with the club members who own condos there and they revolted me. I am, according to someone I used to know, the most class-conscious individual in existence-- which is probably not true, but what is true is I tend to have a problem with people with money; they don't even need to be rich just the level of what we used to call yuppie is enough to put me right off-- the entitled attitude and lack of the need or even desire to see anyone else's point of view agitates me unreasonably. So, on balance, I don't enjoy 30A-- I drive way out of my way to avoid staying in any of the condos and in fact stay in a cheap old school motel in Destin.
The Woody Guthrie festival, in contrast:
I show up I can't figure out what is going on. A woman on the street asks me if I need help. I'm like: I don't know where I'm supposed to go, I downloaded the app and the map doesn't make sense to me, I don't know if I'm parked in the right place, I'm completely confused. She sorts me partially and says welcome to the land of confusion in a good natured way like I have been completely rational (which I'm pretty sure I was not). No no I say, I think I bring THAT with me wherever I go. I'm trying to explain that I am not judging them, I am just freaking out.
"Oh, like a rain cloud over your head," she smiles like she totally understands and has no judgement, and I am already low-key in love with this place.
The first thing I do is walk into the crystal, decide I'm not ready for that level of people or whatever, and turn around and walk to the hen house. I see a woman and my first thought is: she's had some bad troubles, but I'm not sure WHY I think that. She is possibly frail, but maybe not. She is very small boned, delicate, and I am big boned and not so I may have assumed frailty. But I noticed her as one of the first just people there, I guess. Then later I'm standing in line with her for the restroom and she's from Canada, BC. We're talking about the weather and she tells me about atmospheric rivers and kinda blows my mind. Someone comes up to her and they exchange names and even though I'm terrible with names I see her on Sunday and call her by name and ask her if she had a good festival (she comes every year and works to help out). She is slightly distressed that she doesn't remember my name or exactly where she knows me from.
"Oh, the line for the restroom at the hen house and we didn't exchange names, I just heard you tell someone else."
(I temporarily have hot water and I need to shower in my window-- continuing)
