Hopscotch: Thursday

Day one of Hopscotch, and I slid out of work at noon, without remorse or regret.

I spent the afternoon at Sadlack’s, and back and forth to Schoolkids.  Tracy and Gregg joined in, and Julia for the tail end of it, and it was a joyous thing.  I didn’t hear one band which I didn’t think was great.  There were:

Adam Lane and Jeff Mullins

 

 

 

 

 

Turntable Graveyard

Jeff Hart

 

 

 

 

 

Michael Rank & Stag

Scott Phillips

 

 

 

 

John Howie Jr. and the Rosewood Bluff

 

Anthony Neff

Stella Lively

 

 

 

 

and then the rain came down in buckets.

Then it was Chip Robinson, which is the last I heard before burgers at the PR with Julia, and picking up festival passes with Willow.

 

 

 

Wristband City is fun because, well, it’s called “Wristband City,” and you would not believe the number of cases of Red Bull in there, underneath the piles of volunteer t-shirts.

And then there was Hopscotch Music.  Willow and I chose

Phil Cook

 

 

 

 

and then Charlie Parr,

 

 

 

 

and then it was Phil Cook AND Charlie Parr.

 

 

 

 

We ended the night with Sinful Savage Tigers at Slim’s, and

 

 

 

J. Roddy Walston at Tir Na Nog.  Sorry.  I have no idea what he looks like, either. We were so far back that all I could see was their hair flying around. I kind of love a hair band, in 2012.   So retro. You’ll just have to imagine it.

 

There is SO much to say.  But it’s far past my bedtime, and someone has to work a full four hours in the morning, before slipping out of work for more music.

All day long people have been saying, “Happy Hopscotch!” like it’s a holiday, which I obviously consider it to be.  Julia sent me an e-mail this morning that said, “This is your Christmas, right? I feel like I should have filled up a stocking for you!” And I said, “Thanks, but March Madness is my Christmas.  Hopscotch is more like a beach vacation,” which as an architecture intern, I no longer have the vacation days or cash to pull off.  I expect to come out on the other side of this weekend exhausted, but also as refreshed and recharged as if I’d spent a week lying on a sea shore, because that’s what music does to me.  And oh, how I am in need of refreshing and recharging.

12 consecutive hours of music today, and know what?  I feel better already.

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