what happens when life moves on

Yes, I'm alive. About ten days seem to have run together but I'm back at school and my DNA and RNA words got mixed up on my A&P exam the other night. No real worry, merely a bump in my road. The weekend was spent in San Francisco listening to Bluegrass (Hardly and Strictly) and lamenting Sunday's trip to the airport. I'd drafted in all the supplies needed for the weekend: lawnchairs, cooler, blankets, corkscrews, extra gloves, hats, containers for wine and water, survival silverware, camp cups, and a miniature version of the two-day playlist (not laminated...but don't think it didn't cross my mind). We met at the airport and I proceeded to drag Christine (she had to carry the cooler) through the park on Saturday in search of the ever-elusive Star Stage. But to back up...on Saturday we started at the Rooster Stage and saw Chip Taylor and Carrie Rodriguez perform the opening set of the festival. Funny enough, Chip Taylor wrote both "Wild Thing" and "Angel of the Morning", what are the chances? The residuals from "Wild Thing" must be huge, but the 14 million copies of Shaggy's ripped-off sample from "Angel" is surely sweet. Funny to be with someone (hmmm?) that recognizes "Angel" from her clubbing days in Cambridge and London...whether on a fiddle, or on a turntable. This was followed by Patty Griffin and then Joan Baez. Joan is forever engaging, and hearing "Hard Rain" by the 'Monster' (see Mr. Dylan), and "Jerusalem" (see Steve Earle), was worth the weekend. Off to the Star Stage (hey, it's over there, over here, behind the trees...trust me) to see Buddy Miller (again) and the Knitters. We managed to sneak in between sets and had an excellent view of the stage. Sunday brought the crazies (and I mean the indescribable freaks that only the Bay can provide) to the Star Stage. We opened with the Be Good Tanyas (unfinished business), followed by The Legendary Shack*Shackers, Austin Lounge Lizards and Split Lip Rayfield...bluegrass of sorts. We didn't stay for Dolly, who finished the festival on our stage, because I put forth the idea that dinner before running to the airport would be nicer than fighting crowds and wondering if we'd make it. There was some concern amongst the crowd (around us) that we were leaving before 'The Arrival'. Hey, I love Dolly, but I had other stuff that was much more important (pssst...bus to Fillmore and dinner at the Grove). Through the BART, the MUNI, the in-and-out of travel, SFO, and the freaks (see above), it was a dreamy two days. The funny bit is that I don't have my festival, my falafel shop, my hotel, my bus routes, or my lovely SanFran to hide behind anymore. Once you give up the secret hideout you've lost the mystery...and losing the mystery dents the aura. A fews shots from the Bay...what you wear on a sunny day in SanFran, the Shack*Shakers onstage, and a sweet, obidient dog across the street from the Grove. love to all.