Penny For Your Thoughts: April 2009

Sunday, April 19, 2009

For my birthday, I'm withering in the desert.

The heat is worse today.
I am not who I was yesterday. I lived through a moment of such pure awesomeness that I wept. Sir Paul, after an amazing set (that included Beatles songs and fireworks), sang that one song about how it is your birthday today. It was past midnight, and I realized that it was indeed my birthday. He played for another half hour because of the two encores.

We tried to leave at around 1:30 but the line was held up by everyone else leaving. So Chris proposed a nap in the parking lot. None of us woke up until 3:30. After tentative moments of getting lost in the desert, we reached the hotel. The wandering in the desert made me grumpy and restless. I didn't sleep well.

We didn't become mobile until 10. Even then, a lot of lounging around was done. Chris pointed out that Coachella is the chilled-out festival because if you didn't relax you would explode in the sun from all that internal and external heat. I agreed.

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Friday, April 17, 2009

dusty spring fields

The day breaks while we were somewhere along the I-5. Christopher, the only one who was alert (out of necessity), points out that the sun was rising from the horizon, but we were too drowsy to appreciate it properly. We stop at a Denny's to get some healthy, wholesome, maple-syrup drenched American breakfast in a town that stinks of cow shit. I wonder how it feels to live in a farming town. You get used to it, I suspect. But when you leave, does the smell linger? And when you're in a big city, away from home, does the smell of shit remind you of your roots? Can the city boys smell it off you, years after you've stopped having your mother's fresh steak monday? I hate farms. The only way I know how to enjoy this vast expanse of space is the feeling of passing through them.