On the second day of Fest

My daughter brought to me:
One cup of cold beer,
two bottles of water,
three friends to hang with,
and a Hudson's crunchy chicken cone (cut the pear tree).

Festgoers, like cities, have their limits. Yesterday, for instance, my very intelligent husband realized that not only were the temperatures climbing way past his "outside unprotected" comfort zone, but the music acts listed were similarly outside any "I'd willingly sit in the heat to listen to these guys" parameters.

In the truly friendly spirit that Texans consistently demonstrate, my husband opted to give his wristband pass to my daughter to give to one of her friends, a younger guy with musical tastes and temperature tolerances better met by this weekend's forecast and schedule. This freed my spouse up to perform the invaluable drop off/pick up services, for which I hopefully have expressed appropriate gratitude.

Saturday found the Fest heating up, temperature wise if not musically. There were clouds, big ones, but somehow they all managed to hang around the perimeter of the park, rarely getting in between the sun and the fans. The bands listed were not such outright favorites of anybody's but that's partly the reason to be there. To find those New Favorites.

The first act we caught was on the Austin Venture stage, which neatly places the artists with the sun at their back, and yup, in our faces. The only reasonable thing to do under those circumstances, is to look at whoever it is up there for a few minutes and then batten the hatches, lower the umbrellas, sit back and listen.

Umbrellas are great at blocking most of the sun and don't hamper sound waves at all. So YAY for umbrellas allowing us to enjoy St. Vincent, aka Annie Clark, in the near triple digit heat-indexed afternoon. Annie is a singer/songwriter from Dallas who had her ACL debut this week. Annie's music is deceptively sweet sounding but when the lyrics begin to sink in, the depth and sometimes pain behind her light tonality can be a startling juxtaposition. Her sound is not as well served in the large open setting of the park, especially when competing with the pulsing bass lines from the other stages, but this young artist is a comer, and we will all be hearing a lot more from her in the future. Which is a very good thing.

After acclimating to the heat somewhat, and yeah, downing that first beer, we hit our water bottles and wound our way across the fields to the AT&T stage to hear the second Marley son offered this week, Stephen. Whereas Ziggy Marley sang his own tunes Friday, Stephen reprised a lot of their father's music and sounds uncannily like his Dad.

It came as no surprise then to see a heavy contingent of ElderHips up out of their chairs, eyes closed, arms in the air, bobbing and weaving to the tunes. It was a musical version of the WayBack Machine. What was a little surreal in the midst of all that elder bliss was watching a steady stream of middle and high school students who'd been way up in front by the stage, leaving 15 minutes prior to the end of the set, all apparently heading wherever to hear whoever, en masse. BabyHip wannabe lemmings wandering past their own ElderHip future selves, mutually oblivious.

[Sidebar: These middle and high school students looked painfully young. It was fascinating to watch them self consciously picking their way through the crowd. I'd have told them "It's OK - people are here for the music, nobody's watching you" but that wasn't entirely true. I was watching.

I always watch. People fascinate me. I don't think most people there yesterday were so much watching other people as they were there to be watched. Most of the crowd I saw behaved in ways that communicated a sense of oblivious isolation in the midst of so many others.

I am a little jealous of that ability. Honestly? Crowds rattle me. Walking in to ACL Fest there is always the point where I hit my personal anxiety hurdle, which I must confess is part of what propels me to the Bar Booth to get that first cold beer before finding a spot in what's left of the grass in front of any particular stage.]

So, the parade of pre-end of Marley set youngsters out of the way, we turned our attention, and shifted our spots in the grass, towards the Dell Stage, to enjoy Zap Mama.

At this point my daughter began a series of cell phone texts that were steps along the way to helping several of her friends find us in the confusion that is Fest.

Another protocol begins. There is the distant early warning text, indicating that they are "nearly in". There is the reply text stating the stage/act we are enjoying. There is the "we're here where are you?" text which garners the more specific coordinates meant to give anybody looking a high probability of finding our one laid out towel, pack, cooler and umbrella in the mass of chairs, blankets, standing and walking bodies around us.

There are folks all over Fest planting tall poles sporting various flags, some with large mylar balloons, part of that meant to be fun and most of it meant to help people find each other in the park. When you are directing somebody to where you are, you begin by lining yourself up with whichever of the 8 stages you are closest, to, and then any other stable landmarks around the perimeter. You fine tune that with descriptions of whatever flags/balloons you are closest to, in hopes there aren't duplicates to lead your friends astray.

This can be very interesting when the flags or balloons are not standardized university, NFL team or recognizable shape type offerings. Yesterday the folks closest to us had a flag that for all the world looked like what would happen if a United Farm Workers flag had been re-designed by a Michigan Wolverines fan.

We had a problem with that last year. Calling your friends in to within waving range requires cell phone conversations so you can transmit information in real time, a tricky thing when bands are playing, which they are more often than not. That is, after all the point of a music festival. Or mostly the point.

Texting is great when it works, but from time to time the system gets a little bogged down and you can go for a spell with nothing and then suddenly get 5 texts at once. So trying to talk over the music is required, and past that, if you are not thinking to be very specific, you end up with conversations that run like this...

"We are in front of the AT&T stage."
"OK - so am I".
"We're just to the west of the frog balloon".
"You can't be - I am standing next to the guy with the frog balloon and you aren't HERE.".
"Guy? What guy? It's a girl holding the balloon, not a guy."
"Wait - what color is your frog - this guy is holding a brown frog.."
"Oooooh - noooo - this frog balloon is GREEN - wait - I see the brown frog now - we are closer to the bar booths from your frog guy - I am waving - do you see us?".

Happy ending yesterday - everybody found us relatively easily, and we all enjoyed Zap Mama thoroughly. I'm hard pressed to describe her music, it is loosely classified as "world", but it is highly textured, very nuanced, elements of afro cuban, hip hop, a blend of urban and root music that really defies narrowing down. It was an intense sound that matched the afternoon's heat well. We had fun just listening, and then suddenly it was 7 PM and we realized we were starving.

For our second Fest Dinner my daughter had already made a food recommendation on advice from a friend so it was not a question of what, but rather of who would go. Long story short, two went out to procure the eats, another made a beer run, and I got to sit and hold down the towels, er, fort, and watch everybody's stuff. I enjoyed strains of the very mellow Damien Rice while doing so, and was simultaneously treated to the release and relief of the setting sun, along with the softer tones of his ballads.

My daughter's friend's food nod was right on and we were all totally impressed by the ballyhooed ACL Hot and Crunchy Chicken/Avocado Cones brought to us from the Hudson's on the Bend booth.

Yum. They were indeed hot, crunchy, and absolutely delicious. Add to that the opening strains of the Indigo Girl's set from the stage to our right in lieu of dessert, and I was much, much closer to fine.

So ended Day Two of ACL Fest 2007. More music, more friends, more beers, more heat, more fun food. What's not to like?

Sunday may include a run by Fest's souvenir shop for a T-shirt. As this is potentially my daughter's last September living in Austin for the foreseeable future, it feels some effort should be made to walk away from the Fest this year with something more than ringing ears and a sunburn to substantiate, materialize, embody our memories. I have always been a fan of the souvenir article of clothing to remember a fun time shared. Yes, there are photos, but you can't throw a photo on when you are living 8 states away and missing your family and your home town.

Whether or not we shop, we will be there for one last round of music, sun, fun and food. I'll be back sometime tomorrow with a report - a wrap up of sorts, and then we will settle down to the next serious business on our culinary horizon - determining a menu for my daughter's 24th birthday feast to be prepared by our familial super chef - her brother.

See that's the thing about shared food experiences. If you only work just a little bit ahead? The fun never has to end....

See Me?

I'm in there somewhere. I'm the one sitting on the towel with my daughter. See me? No, not her - I'm over there, to the right, No no, my right, not yours....

Festing is great fun, but it is something done in the company of a whole lot of other people. 65 thousand of them, more or less. The aerial photo here shows one end of the park. Multiply what you see there by a factor of 5 (recognizing that 57 percent of all statistics are made up) and you get the general idea of the sheer volume, people wise, of the experience.

As to the volume of the music? Well, most of the people attending are in their 20s-30s. You know how loud people that age like their music? Multiply that by 8 stages and you get some idea of the sheer volume of the, well, of the VOLUME.

A quick side note here - yesterday as we first arrived we witnessed an impressively ominous plume of black smoke rising from a fire that started when some propane tanks for the food courts ignited. The fire was put out pretty promptly, but 4 ACL workers were injured, two seriously. I add my prayers to all others that their injuries will heal speedily.

Kudos to the Austin Fire Department and EMS who managed the blaze and the injuries in ways that did not panic or add to the potential damages from such a situation.

Pete Yorn's set was interrupted, but fest goers were appropriately patient considering what triggered the delays, and Fest entry lines were slowed but not stopped. Everybody we saw took this all with good humor, especially considering the heat, dust and then smoke involved. Austin, I am proud of you.

Yesterday we arrived mid-afternoon. Once managing the eternal sunshine of the clueless entry line, we were wrist banded and spent the next 7 hours festing.

I don't know if this gambit worked last year, but apparently some people believed that the staffers checking bags at the entry gates would somehow not sense that the additional weight in the center of a portable chair bag might indicate the presence of something "other than chair", like, say, 3-4 cans of beer. And it was Bud Lite at that. Observers in the lines around us agreed, not even worth stopping and drinking that before it was confiscated. Those people were saved from themselves.

So, safely in the park and all of Friday's Fest to go. For us, that included one stop for printed schedules (already out of date), one go-round at the misting station, two stops for cold beers, a food run for 1/4 pound hot dogs from the Hoffbrau booth, tea from SweetTea, potty breaks, and oh right, the MUSIC.

We heard more than saw the Peter, Bjorn and John set, but were impressed. Theirs is music we'll definitely be wanting to have around past Fest. After that it was on to hear Joss Stone, who rocked the stage for a great hour long set. Yeah, only thing hotter than the sun yesterday was Joss's performance. Catch her if you can - you won't be sorry.

Little break after that to move over and hear Andy Palacios and the Garifuna Collective. Andy, apparently a cultural minister for Belize as well as touring musician, thanked Austin for the honor of being the first Belizean band invited to Fest. If the boogeying around us was any indicator? They won't be the last. My daughter speculated that if her life could have only one type of music for it's sound track? Garifuna would certainly do.

After that we had a bit of a battle of the bands in our decision making. The Fest Wizards, for reasons known only to themselves, chose to schedule local darlings made big, Spoon, at the same time as Queens of the Stone Age. We'd meant to haul ourselves post-dinner across park to catch the Queens, reasoning that Spoon is more likely to be seen locally, but I got stuck in the park's slowest Potty line, and by the time I emerged it was only reasonable to amble over and catch the end of Spoon's set. Which was great, no complaints.

Life lesson learned? As I shared in an email with a young friend living in New York who hopes to get to Fest one of these years, "No diuretics at Fest". Except for beer, naturally. I lay the blame for missing Queens of the Stone Age squarely at the feet of my decision to get 24 ounces of tea with dinner. Stupid tea. Stupid me.

Lesson number two? Towards the end of the day the porta-potties at a music festival hosting 65 thousand fans plus however many additional volunteers and staff begins to resemble a second world situation. There are facilities, yes, but the amenities are over-taxed, shall we say. On the backpack essentials list for today is TP for the ladies.

Potty lines at Fest are a music concert correlate to the drive-through lanes at the bank. No matter which one you choose, it instantly becomes the slowest moving line. If you switch, so does the rate of progress. How that can be a universal experience for everybody in every line no matter where they stand is a mystery yet to be revealed. I can simply tell you for a fact that I was in The Slowest Line and yet overheard people all around me making similar complaints (as they moved ahead faster than I did).

Post-Spoon we were entranced, (along with several thousand others) as a two-level stage set-up revealed the all white clad Gotan Project, including a guitarist that looked a lot like (Sir) Ben Kingley. Their music is tricky to describe, sort of a Parisian Tango fusion, but we liked it. A lot.

The visually and aurally cool Gotan folk finished up in darkness as the sun finally gave up punishing music fan and non-fan alike. We realized we had fested ourselves out for the time being. We called ahead for my husband who was providing drop off/pick up services yesterday, and headed uphill for home.

Isn't that always the case? The way home from any delightful day of sun, fun and wonderful music always seems to go uphill....

Today we will be attending with no drop off services available. This will trigger a switch to a new parking spot in order to avoid spending half as much time walking as we would hearing music.

That is all part of being a smart Fest Game player. Choosing which bands to listen to, what food to get and when, only happens AFTER you have mastered the art of finding a legal parking space resulting in the Shortest Possible Walk. I have to admit, for the first time ever, my family's local connections in combination with a fascination with Google Map is really paying off.

We have the chance this year to borrow a parking spot at one of my daughter's co-worker's condo, with the enticement of a shortcut through her neighborhood to the Fest gates.

Will it prove to be a shorter, downhill, shadier trip to the entrance gates? Will we survive Fest as a Family Trio rather than our usual Mother/Daughter Duo? Who will we choose from Saturday's Schedule Snafu, Damien Rice or the Arctic Monkeys? Will we last long enough to catch my old favorites, The Indigo Girls?

Stay tuned....

Fest!

This weekend is the Austin City Limits Music Festival. It is a nearly all day affair running Friday, Saturday and Sunday, featuring multiple stages, a wide variety of musical acts, and of course, food.

What can you safely prepare, quickly sell and serve to 65,000 people who are likely to decide that THIS break between the 40 plus bands playing on 8 different stages is THE break to get lunch/dinner/a snack on any given day?

There are obvious limits. The restaurants featured vary from year to year but they are all local - no national chains. There are always burgers and some form of Tex Mex, generally one or more vegan offerings and always one place that is serving "healthy" fare.

Healthy? If you want to assure your health you stay the hell home in the first place.

The weather is hot - mid 90s at a minimum. You are in full sun most of the day. By Saturday afternoon, the park gets pretty dusty. You are allowed to bring in 2 liters of water to last you all day, and past that you are at the mercy of the assembled vendors. People are smoking all around you. Some cigarettes, some marijuana. If there is a breeze, no worries. If not, you are at the mercy of the strangers around you and how they choose to indulge their various habits.

The shaded seating area is a VIP only affair, which you can pay to qualify for, but it is away from the music stages. In years past there were some tables provided in the food vendors area, mostly of the Stand Around This variety - a platform for plates more than anything else, but nothing is available, much less possible to seat 65,000 at once.

There is one small stage out of the sun most of the day, and it provides gospel, funk, and a variety of world music and acts that defy easy categorization, but it is close to a wall of portapotties and off to one side of the food court, so it is more a travel-through space than a place to hunker down and enjoy.

There are two misting stations - giant oscillating fans with spray nozzles attached. These are naturally very popular, and I've been pleased to note a wonderful form of etiquette has evolved there. People, maybe because they are suddenly really COOL for the first time in hours, take their turns in the mist very politely. I've never noticed anybody seriously hogging a spot in front of a fan. The stations are whimsically named "Mister Mister" and "Sister Mister". Gotta love Austin, yeah?

A Fest experience for my family begins as whoever is attending tries to get a ride to the drop off point in our neighborhood, cutting the distance between here and Fest by fully half. This is followed by a saunter down towards Zilker Park - now within reasonable walking distance. You are gradually accompanied by more and more people, and you establish what personal space is tolerable in the heat with various carried chairs and packs. Depending on time of day and overhead sun, the point is not to melt before we can get inside, open our Approved to Bring In "factory sealed" water bottles, and pony up to buy that first cold beer.

There are Festival Protocols for acquiring beverages as well as food. Everyone in a group has to take their turn standing in line or sitting with all the stuff and waiting. Cell phone texting has made last minute inquiries (cherry lemonade or peach?) a snap. Pacing is crucial, and the Water/Beer/Water/Beer protocol is one my daughter and I developed the first year.

The beer lines are always long in the early to mid afternoon. The trick is to bring your water in, open a bottle immediately, so by the time you get your printed schedule, choose a stage, ride the line, score your beer and head out to claim a place to listen to whoever is closest to a favorite band or hopeful new favorite? If timed well, your first bottle of water finishes just as you are ready to sip that still cold beer and enjoy the first act you catch.

We determined a rotation between bottles of water and cups of cold beer will generally keep you happy and reasonably well hydrated without overly compromising your abilities to navigate ACL Fest's shifting Land of Counterpane. A challenging course of uneven park field covered by a constantly evolving haphazard human quilt of chairs, blankets, and towels, it requires skills similar to a crowded city sidewalk traverse. All that, with a full cup of precious cold liquid in hand subject to whatever spontaneous boogeying maneuvers the music calls out of you or your fellow walkers.

The inevitable food run requires Venn diagram coordination. You idle by Food Row early on to see what the choices will be. Out of those choices, you establish what folks WILL eat, and of those, you subset the lines moving reasonably quickly. If you are smart you have chosen food that is stand alone, temperature neutral and carried easily. The final criteria has to be how well it will sit in your stomach in the heat for the rest of your planned Fest stay because the prospect of portable restrooms shared amongst 65,000 people? Well, you can figure those hazards out on your own.

I will be back later in the weekend with a report on our food/beverage choices, as well as the bands we heard. I'll let you know if we are able to match up a meal with a particular act, like, say, gumbo with Garifuna. It's not easy, but we are a determined bunch in my family.

And, as we say here in Texas in response to anything we really like? WHOOOOOOOO!! See y'all at the Fest.