For the Ladies

          I felt awful dragging myself out of bed for our third volunteer shift, but was still a good feeling getting out of the tent, despite our precautions leaving the screens unblocked and sleeping outside the bags. Thankfully, our help wasn't required at first, and Brian took a nap while I read A Feast For Crows and unwound. A call came in eventually, apparently requesting a single volunteer at Pod 11, a considerable distance away. A coordinator took me over in a golf cart, and when we arrived the information booth people said that they were all set and denied ever calling for help. We drove back to volunteer HQ, and despite the pointlessness of the excursion, it was a refreshing break from sitting around. While we're on the subject of the golf carts: the dust here is something else. It gets everywhere, on everything. It got all over my Fujifilm camera while it was inside the tent, and it coated my glasses within a few hours once we got to Bonnaroo. Driving through clouds of it in a golf cart is not a very fun experience, though my glasses spare me some discomfort.
          There are wooden walls surrounding most of Centeroo which channel people into check-in stations, to ensure that people don't sneak into the show. They've all been painted and decorated by numerous Bonnaroovians, and are scribbled all over with numerous quotes, phrases and drawings. They range from amusing ("Roo do you think you are?") to sweet ("You're my disco") to melancholy ("Sgt. Russell Durgin - KIA June 13, 2006.") For some reason there is a preponderance of Game of Thrones references -- "Winter is Coming," "R.I.P. Ned Stark," "Fuck King Joffrey," etc. -- as well as gangsta rap shout outs and lyrics; see "Like Eli I did it" and numerous "Forgive Kanye" spray stencils. As one might expect, there are many music references as well, both to artists themselves ("Just piss on me, R. Kelly") and to music culture ("I'm okay with hipsters.")
          After some more relaxation at HQ, the call came through for some Support staff at the west tollbooths. Brian and I volunteered to go, and in a few minutes we headed to the place where we'd slipped, wristband-less, through customer service's net. Our job was simple: after people's cars were checked and ridden of glass (resulting in a number slamming down their alcohol before passing through the tollbooth), we scanned their wristbands and paint markered their windshield based on whether they were day parking, camping, access parking, and so forth. It was simple work, if mindless, but my volunteer experience has been nothing but positive since we resolved the deposit fiasco. Highlight: Three black guys in an ancient, matte black Oldsmobile with "NIGGAMOBILE" scrawled on the back window.
          Once our shift at the tollbooths was over, we took a golf cart taxi out to Pod 8 to shop for glass. On my way out to pod 11 earlier, I'd spotted several tables covered in pieces, and one booth was advertising a free chillum with each purchase. We didn't find anything worth the money and hurried back to Centeroo to catch Nas at What Stage. Tired and aching in the feet, we chose to observe this show from afar and laid down in the grass under a tent. We both fell asleep within a few songs, despite the unbelievable bass, and awoke a couple hours later during Bjork's set. This was pleasant until I started to pay attention to the music -- Bjork's voice makes me want to firebomb a puppy factory. A pattern has emerged with our attendance at shows. We originally intended to rush around and see as many as possible, but it's become apparent that it's a lot more fun to see a few with breaks in between. Otherwise it just becomes too much stress and it becomes difficult to enjoy the music. At Brian's suggestion, we went to see the Lumineers at Which Stage; my feelings about their brand of twangy folk rock are noncommittal. After this, we walked around for a couple of hours, taking photos and checking out the swag booths. I purchased a children's book transformed into a notebook (I Saw the Sea Come In) and donated $1 to a booth called Soberoo, where some dudes offer support for people who want to experience Bonnaroo without the temptation of mind altering substances. I may not share their position, but they're swimming against the tide, so I felt obligated to help out.
          The main attraction for the day came at 9:30: R. Kelly at Which Stage! He opened with "Ignition" and got everybody pumped, killed it all the way through his set, and closed with perfect crowd singalong "I Believe I Can Fly," complete with gospel choir and inflatable "birds" that took off in a beautiful cloud. In typical fashion, almost every song was prefaced by some variant of, "This is for the ladies here tonight," with the exception of the bittersweet "I Wish". The call for an encore went up quickly and enthusiastically, but it was not to be. They did play a recording of the first episode of Trapped In the Closet after he left the stage, which was a fun end to the show. We went and caught a couple of songs at the end of Billy Idol's set, including "White Wedding," which is really the only song you need to hear from him anyway. Once he left, we attempted to move forward for the next band, Empire of the Sun, but the crowd for this was the rowdy type. Brian and I were separated, I didn't feel like getting squashed any more, and I retreated to the tent to read A Feast For Crows before I slept.
          Quotes of the day:
"Bitch was hittin' up that mic like it was her first dick in a while." - Brian, on Nanna Hilmarsdottir from Of Monsters and Men
"Y'all off key like a motherfucker. Don't worry, I'll do it." - R. Kelly
"I was so spun out, I was talking to my hat for an hour." - guy in the crowd at Empire of the Sun

R. Kelly: doing it for the ladies.