For all y'all in the industry and even if you are not, who would like to nominate lighting, audio, trucking, staging, bussing and other entertainment entities for the annual Parnelli Awards, go to this link and rock out, vote for some, vote for all or none! http://www.parnelliawards.com/nominate.php
Day 456 - Aug 24 - Reading Festival
So as we approach the our last hurrah, Scott and I decide that we can not end without one last adventure into the roadie wilderness known as the crowd. Shhhh, as we lay low and creep off into uncharted lands the sensation of danger is imminent. Quickly we discover that to wander astray could have dire consequences. Hmmm, I wonder if this is the right way?
After a brief pow wow, Scott and I decide that we will heed the words of the yellow sign and follow a less ominous path. Stealthy we blend.
It appears that the natives posses a certain fondness for an effervescent yellowish liquid called beer. It also appears that warm beer is some sort of criminal act so they have placed an amnesty booth allowing the contraband to be traded for the more legal cold stuff. Notice the Function One PA off to the right. Hmmm, clearly a supporter of beer coldness perpetuation.
Wow, truly and advanced society! Here we find a reciprocal setup that pays cash for used beer cups. Very cool. My expectations are high that indigenous punters keep their cages quite clean.
It is not uncommon when out in the field observing nature that one will be so fortunate to observe the regional life forms involved in the mating ritual. With much care we creep up and grab a rare shot indeed.
Cleanliness is paramount in this tribe. Observe the female nonchalantly exiting the restroom as the hazmat team disinfects the area.
Approaching the outskirts, we stumble across the local watering hole. Both Scott and I dare not get to close as, like most creatures, punters do not like to be disturbed while quenching thirst.
I seem to have lost Scotty. where could he be? After much searching, I was quite surprised to find him dangerously close to the punter nesting grounds. "Hey Scott, what are you doing?"
Uh oh. As we all know, every silver lining has a cloud. what do we have here?
Ooooh, look! A swimming hole!! Perhaps this is where they bathe?
Feeling a bit home sick, Scott and I head back to the the roadie herd where we find safety and solace in our beloved front of house area.
The happiness of the rock show.
And, oh nooooo! Does that say 99.4 db in red? Is that what they consider too loud? How can that be? At least please give me 103. This is like driving on the freeway with a 40 mile an hour speed limit.Oh well, never forget it could always be worse.