ACL Fest: Day 1

ACL Fest begins with some new peeps: GWH’s cousin Irish is in town, and he’s brought his girlfriend Pumpkin with her. Pumpkin’s invited her friend from NYC. GWH also has a Houston evacuee in town. The whole group meets up at my place to walk down. It’s been a long four-day week and I can’t wait to begin with the beer, the music and the fun.

Our first show selection is Robert Earl Keen. Whee! There’s Contrary and her man Ashton. He’s brought a friend with him as well. Ashton has nicknamed his friend, as all boys seem to do. What’s up with that, anyway? Why can’t they just call them by their names? Contrary and I discuss, while admiring the hot pink chair she has selected for her concert-going.

“Isn’t it awesome? What do we do now?” Contrary asks. “I’m kind of bored.”

“Let’s drink more beer,” I say.

Our next show is The Allman Brothers. Another show that I don’t really know or care about. Contrary, Ashton and his friend stop to watch Thievery Corporation on our way over. GWH shakes his head at them, clearly disappointed that they will miss part of The Allman Brothers.

“I mean, please. The Allman Brothers have been rocking for over three decades!” he says.

Contrary, G and B catch up with us after Thievery Corporation and listen to the last part of The Allman Brothers. This time we admire our respective boyfriends instead of the pink chair.

“He’s so cute,” we sigh. I drink more beer and take really awful pictures of the blanket we’re sitting on, as well as a nice one of GWH’s butt. Yum.

Our next topic of discussion deals with how only white people love the guitar solo. I cannot STAND a 20-minute song. According to Dave Chappelle, it’s only the white people who love a jam session.

“Man, I didn’t want that song to end!” Ashton says to us, as another endless guitar solo by the Band That Has Been Rocking for Three Decades (or has the song lasted three decades?) ends.

GWH, Contrary and I crack up.

From there, GWH and the gang will stay and wait for The Black Crowes while I travel with Contrary, Ashton and his buddy to see Keane. Keane totally rocks. Man, I love those Brits! Contrary takes off to hear someone else before the end of Keane’s set. I assure her I’ll find my way back to GWH and company. It’s right then that Pharmaceutical Rep makes his move, asking me if Keane is going to play his best song.

PR takes a hundred years to describe the song, while I knock back yet another Amstel Light, calculate how many I’ve had (6), wonder what I would like to eat (a sandwich), wonder how long it will take me to find GWH (25 minutes), and if I have any eyeliner left (yes).

“Oh, that song?” I say. “He just played that. In fact, he was playing it when you started talking to me.”

Poor guy. My beauty completely distracted him, and now I must leave him so that I can find GWH at The Black Crowes. As I head across the park, I find the show is rapidly filling up with people. Hey, people? Go away. Weren’t there supposed to be 10,000 less this year? I wander through the crowd, clutching more beers and hoping that I find GWH and completely forgetting that we’ve agreed to meet up at a particular sign if we lose each other. Stupid Amstel Light.

And there is his familiar orange Longhorn cap. I leap into his lap. “I am so glad to see you!”

He hugs me. “Thank God you found me! Baby, I’m drunk.”

The Black Crowes have just begun their set. Um, Black Crowes? You guys are pretty awesome and all, but please…stop…the 20 minute song. Killing me softly! GOD! Why does it have to go on so long? Why, why, why?

Finally the concert is done and we head back home for a refreshing dip in the pool. Ahhhh, that was nice. I drink one final beer before heading off to bed. Day two comes early…

-Shakira 10.04.05