California Roots Festival @ Monterey Fairgrounds

[Drunk Monk]

5/24-25/13

With TCEC/KFTCD impending, and this new *campout* reggae fest in my new backyard, I just couldn't resist. I made this intellectualization that I had to go to pick up the jump bag and banner for Rock Med at TCEC, which was indeed true. CA Roots has been going for 4 years but this is the first year it allowed camping. Now, as we rasta often seh "I don't like reggae. I love it." That comes with stipulations like "I don't like CA reggae. It sucks". None of the bands in the line-up had my ear, which was just as well as this was a vendor show. There were so many booths - reggae dun gone commercial - and so much food - munchy madness. I should talk. The staff food was excellent - mixed green salads with heirloom tomatoes, special sauces from some gourmet vendor trying to sling (but I forgot the name), Virgil's sodas and Reed's new line of kombucha drinks. I was told the meat offerings were good too. They looked good. I o.d.ed on soda. Love that Virgil's black cherry cream soda. mmmm. And I love Reed's ginger beer, so the kombucha was very satisfying too, in that healthy sort of way. I just hung out backstage drinking sodas. As most of the calls were there anyway, I figured it would be strategic to stage there with a partner in crime who also does a lot of reggaes - one of my Jedi Nite Krew. We were told later by one of the younger up&comers that we should mind our behavior backstage, to which we replied, 'Dis 'ere a reggae. We own dis.' And we did.

Oh yea, there was some music.

I assisted a C-spine to Dirty Heads "Lay me down" which struck me as funny, even though it wasn't. Poor girl. She wasn't even drunk or high. She just slipped and hit her head - LOC so we had to roll. Rebelution also played, and I have issues with them because they mucked up our yaard at SNWMF back in 2011. There was an aftershow in a bar in the fairgrounds that went 'til 2 AM with a band called True Press, who were an LA surf-punk -> reggae band that did covers of Mackelmore and Guetta. They were fun. It was a small bar, like 70+ people, and we skanked away the night. A young EMT joined dm and shared a can of Rolling Rock which he had shaken up in his jump pack while skanking. Dm only drank it because he didn't want to see that guy drink alone. I would have rather had another Virgil's actually.

Like BottleRock, I really enjoyed this new fest and look forward to next year.

[Greg_phpbb3_import1]

Isn't it a little early for a band to be doing Macklemore covers?

[Drunk Monk]

...a surf punk to reggae mackelmore cover. and it was very entertaining. the name of the band, true press, was strangely relevant. they kicked me down a free cd with 4 tunes on it, one of which is about driving 101 and 17 to the cruz. it was the highlight of the show...that and all the virgil's soda....

forgot to mention that it was cold and overcast. posted pix on fb.

[Drunk Monk]

So this year, the weekend after TCEC & KFTCD, I found myself returning the jump bags to CaliRoots.

I'm home now for a little shower break, and to pick up my kid and her friend to take them to the show tonight. We've been having a blast there.

On the downside, I've been having burnoose and cat pee issues. Greg gifted me a new burnoose from his honeymoon. I have long treasured the burnoose he gave me years ago because it is very well made - traditional quality - and it has served me very well for years of abuse at festivals. I don't wear the scarf anymore although I still have it; I just use the cord. I planned to break in this new burnoose at CaliRoots - a great element for the visionquest as Greg spent last weekend filming for us and it's always a treat to work with him on such projects. This new burnoose has a really heavy thick and stiff cord that I can't figure out how to adjust. Very frustrating. I gave up on it and wound up just using the scarf. An old dread friend snuck up on me from behind and said "I didn't know they let Palestinians in Rock Med." His wife is Israeli and there's a deep connection between Judaism and Rastafarianism through the 12 tribes tale. Anyway, I'm going to dig up my original burnoose cord and give up on the new one.

As for the cat pee, my wonderful tamed feral decided to pee on one of my gear bags that I had staged in the living room the night before I left. I didn't discover it until I made camp and the scent hit me in my tent. That bag was cleaned as best as possible at a festival, and moved to the car. Then this morning, I broke camp at 6am. I noticed a corner by my head was very wet. There's this neighborhood cat that has been wandering through our campsite - I've been the only one able to pet it. It must have decided to own me last night as the wet spot had the scent and was right next to where my head was, but on the outside. That old tent has been with me for a long time. I stole it from S, her old backpacking tent, and beat the crap out of it at festivals. The inner door zipper is broken, and a re-waterproofing job I did on it after being soaked at a ReggaeontheRiver rainstorm has made it look really dirty. I was going to give up on it years ago until a friend started calling it Yoda's swamp tent. Now it may be done. Its sitting on my back bench - I didn't want to put it all away because it's soaked in cat pee. I may just move it to the garbage.

Another odd aside was I met an old Kung Fu brother who lives and teaches in Monterey. He is a pupil of our next cover master and wanted some issues but we aren't distributed in Monterey, so I told him I'd be at the festival and we could meet for breakfast. He took me out to this great classic style diner, one with a line of locals, and feasted me on veggie eggs benedict and bottomless diner coffee. It was delightful, but I forgot that my old Kung Fu bro was a bit OCD and hard of hearing, so communicating was a little tricky as I was just one step out of reggaeland and kept slipping back into patois. What's more, he makes his entire living as a tai chi & qigong teacher, and for some weird reason, some pro martial artists feel the need to tell me all the stuff they are doing in the martial arts as if they are at an interview. On top of that, there's this constant oneupmanship in the martial circles, always trying to share the better story or experiences with some famous grandmaster. Of course, that's not a game to play with me given my job; it's a fact that any martial artist worth their salt can surmise with little time spent appraising me so those that engage me on this level, well, that so lowers my appraisal of them on the martial barometer. Plus I hear that stuff ALL THE TIME, so I find the martial ego game very tiresome. (BTW, PPPFY, that Grandmaster Schauer who visited you some time ago is of this ilk which is why I keep my distance from him, beyond giggling at his naive fb posts). It was great to see an old friend - it had been years since we saw each other. Now it can be many years more before we see each other again. The eggs benedict was delicious.

Ok, now I wait patiently for the girls to wake up so I can take a shower. A little re-sorting of my gear for the day and we'll be back for day 3 of CaliRoots! I'll report more adventures later...

[cranefly]

We have one cat, named Halvah. Perhaps you're familiar with her from Lady Cranefly's posts on Facebook. We've set up three litter boxes for her, and she uses all eight of them.
When Robert Duvall comes to visit, which is not often, he is fond of saying, "I love the smell of cat urine in the morning. It reminds me of ... icky."

You can buy any of a variety of deodorants/cleaners for cat pee, some of them quite expensive. But the key to using them is "lots," completely soak the carpet and wood and whatever else that has been penetrated by the urine. I doubt I'm telling you anything you don't already know, but sometimes it's fun lecturing myself (actually, it helps bolster my memory).

My approach is to buy white vinegar by the gallon. I think the Dollar Store has it cheap. Then I just drench the areas at regular intervals. The house smells of vinegar for several days, but that's still a step up.
Good luck, and if you see Bob Duvall, say hi from me.

[thatguy]

Maybe some "Gene"-therapy is in order (hah! see what I did there?):

<!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/04/130429154115.htm">http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/20 ... 154115.htm</a><!-- m -->

Cat and mouse: One gene is necessary for mice to avoid predators

A research team led by neurobiologist Thomas Bozza has shown that removing one olfactory receptor from mice can have a profound effect on their behavior. The gene, called TAAR4, encodes a receptor that responds to a chemical that is enriched in the urine of carnivores. While normal mice innately avoid the scent marks of predators, mice lacking the TAAR4 receptor do not.

The study, published April 28 in the journal Nature, reveals something new about our sense of smell: individual genes matter.

Unlike our sense of vision, much less is known about how sensory receptors contribute to the perception of smells. Color vision is generated by the cooperative action of three light-sensitive receptors found in sensory neurons in the eye. People with mutations in even one of these receptors experience color blindness.

"It is easy to understand how each of the three color receptors is important and maintained during evolution," said Bozza, an author of the paper, "but the olfactory system is much more complex."

In contrast to the three color receptors, humans have 380 olfactory receptor genes, while mice have more than 1,000. Common smells like the fragrance of coffee and perfumes typically activate many receptors.

"The general consensus in the field is that removing a single olfactory receptor gene would not have a significant effect on odor perception," said Bozza, an assistant professor of neurobiology in the Weinberg College of Arts and Sciences.

Bozza and his colleagues tested this assumption by genetically removing a specific subset of olfactory receptors called trace amine-associated receptors, or TAARs, in mice. Mice have 15 TAARs. One is expressed in the brain and responds to amine neurotransmitters and common drugs of abuse such as amphetamine. The other 14 are found in the nose and have been coopted to detect odors.

Bozza's group has shown that the TAARs are extremely sensitive to amines -- a class of chemicals that is ubiquitous in biological systems and is enriched in decaying materials and rotting flesh. Mice and humans typically avoid amines since they have a strongly unpleasant, fishy quality.

Bozza's team, including the paper's lead authors, postdoctoral fellow Adam Dewan and graduate student Rodrigo Pacifico, generated mice that lack all 14 olfactory TAAR genes. These mice showed no aversion to amines. In a second experiment, the researchers removed only the TAAR4 gene. TAAR4 responds selectively to phenylethylamine (PEA), an amine that is concentrated in carnivore urine. They found that mice lacking TAAR4 fail to avoid PEA, or the smell of predator cat urine, but still avoid other amines.

"It is amazing to see such a selective effect," Dewan said. "If you remove just one olfactory receptor in mice, you can affect behavior."

The TAAR genes are found in all mammals studied so far, including humans. "The fact that TAARs are highly conserved means they are likely important for survival," Bozza said.

One idea is that the TAARs may make animals very sensitive to the smell of amines. Humans may have TAAR genes to avoid rotting foods, which become enriched in amines during the decomposition process. In fact, the TAARs may relay information to a specific part of the brain that elicits innately aversive behavior in animals.

Bozza's lab has recently shown that neurons in the nose that express the TAARs connect to with a specific region of the olfactory bulb -- the part of the brain that first receives olfactory information. This suggests that the TAARs may elicit hardwired responses to amines in mice, and perhaps humans.

"We hope this work will reveal specific brain circuits that underlie instinctive behaviors in mammals," Bozza said. "Doing so will help us understand how neural circuits contribute to behavior."

Adam Dewan, Rodrigo Pacifico, Ross Zhan, Dmitry Rinberg, Thomas Bozza. Non-redundant coding of aversive odours in the main olfactory pathway.
Nature, 2013; DOI: 10.1038/nature12114

--tg

[Drunk Monk]

It served me well for many years. It makes me sad to see it go. If that tent could speak, DM would have to silence it because it saw way too many incriminating situations. It will go out unceremoniously in tomorrow's trash. But I have another, a cheap $20 tent that I bought at Raley's that is the color of the JA flag. It'll die horrifically at some festival, which will force me to find alternate housing, but that'll make an amusing DOOM post for all of ya, and I live for that.

Moving on.

I had a lot of trepidation for this show because it sold out early with a fat line-up *and* my kid was going to be on her own for a lot of it, as in out of my direct supervision. A sophomore friend from her volleyball team came too as I traded my laminate making skills to make the official RM lammy in exchange for an extra pass. I didn't know her very well, but she seemed ok and I trust T enough to be smart as I was handing them both all access passes. As it turned out, they were fine. They got along really well for the weekend and had an incredible time. T's friend is a fan of CA reggae because she got an Iration shirt from lost-and-found at school that was going to be tossed, and then decided to investigate the band as she loved the shirt. It's her fav band now and she's seen them several times, along with many of the other CA reggae bands playing at CA roots. They even worked table service for RM for a while, and T is now interested in volunteering.

As for the lams, Cali Roots provided 2 official lams, actually actual printed plastic cards not laminates which is much more classy, a logo-ed lanyard, and a cloth wristband. I provided two lams, the official RM one and a JNK mock lam based on Rastamouse. Only T and T's friend knew Rastamouse. The JNK got totally addicted to Rastamouse on someone's laptop after getting the lam and got about a dozen episodes deep after hours.

The weather was very Monterey. Friday, the sun came out between 10 and 3 then it was overcast with a chilly ocean breeze. Saturday was chilly most of the day save for a little sunshine at around 4 ish. Then Sunday was sunny all day - absolutely gorgeous and the perfect way to finish the weekend.

Music reviews soon come.

[Drunk Monk]

...but I gotta respect a festival that forces DM to change his pants in the first 12 hours.

Dm didn't get a chance to check in with T's friend's mom until she called Dm at the fest. Dm had just got the girls settled, walked them around the venue, told them where they could and could not go, and then turned them loose. Dm just cracked a beer and a puff at the RM camp sites when she called. That should have been awkward, but it went fine.

It was a day of cute gals falling out. RM was inundated with cute female patients, which kept the male staff interested, but worried DM as he had the two cute teenagers in tow, and it seemed ominous. It wasn't however. DM was just being paranoid. The girls did really well. Dm tried to hook up with them at J. Boog (one of the better acts). They had secured front row seats on stage left and Dm spotted them after some texting from across the house. DM later went into the pit just in front of them, just because it was the closest he could get. Later, they managed to squirrel into the pit too along with a ton of other poseurs, until the house wised up and kicked them all out. They were doing the front-of-stage thing, what DM used to do 20 years ago, the prime location to pass out, but they were fine. Alas, to be a teen again.

So about the pants. DM was refilling one of the water jugs and carrying it back to table service like a nooB instead of getting help. He stepped in a hole and spilled water all over himself, soaking his crotch and pants leg. It looked really embarrassing. Then, there were several calls at the same time. Dm tried to escape back to the campsite to change, but he stumbled upon one of the patients, another cute gal who passed out near the women's restrooms. She needed a wheelchair, which DM radioed for, but the crowd was so thick and RM was so spread out, that it wasn't going to happen. So dm commandeered a passing production golf cart, driven by a nice lady named Gina ironically, to help take the patient to RM. Gina was kind enough to offer DM a ride back to camp, but there was another call. The cops had some kid they were going to arrest near the Hated booth - that was the logo of their gear - Hated - I guess this kid was the one they Hated because they all thought he was a bother and weren't overly concerned about whether RM or the cops took him. So Dm negotiated with the cops (who were actually very obliging) with his soaking pants, got the kid to RM, and finally, after well over an hour in the chilly Monterey mist, got to change his pants.

Best comment of the day - DM came up upon another cute gal passed out with a gaggle of dudes (friends tho) surrounding her. She was dehydrated and one of the dudes asked "Are you going to give her one of those concentrated water pills?" There was a long "wtf?" silence as DM tried to discern if he heard that right, and then all of his buddies started ragging on him for saying something so silly.

Mrs. Dm came in later, tired after a long day of work. She has recently secured another job in the Cruz, so she's working really hard to impress her new employers, plus keeping her old job in Paly, as well as her private clients. The girls were still running amuck, and the scene was way too crowded for Mrs. Dm at that moment, so the DMs went to the simulcast stage for Steel Pulse, which was much more spacious and fun. The sound was better. In the main bowl, the bass was smothering the rest of the music too much for reggae even, and as there was a smaller crowd for the Cali stage, there were sofas, benches, heaters, hoopers and poi ball players. Steel Pulse was the highlight of the day.

Then Mrs. Dm took the girls home and Dm ran amuck himself for a little while, only to get so wired that he hardly slept a wink all night, watching the brain circus play out in his head.

[Drunk Monk]

Mrs. Dm didn't bring the girls back until late afternoon, allowing DM a goodly chunk of running amuck time, starting with his traditional breakfast of champs, a beer - this time an Anchor porter as dm came home with three cases of beer from the Anchor tour, and still has some leftover after Cali Roots. Then Dm's aforementioned kung fu brother took him out to a delicious diner breakfast. He dropped DM off after at a CVS right outside the venue where dm invested in some gel inserts for his worn cheap target shoes. It was the only souvenir that DM gleaned from Cali Roots, which is perhaps indicative of his general outlook on music festivals nowadays.

Dm's radio didn't work. Well, it could hear a transmission from about 10 or 20 feet away, which is useless really as you can just talk at that distance. Dm kept wearing the radio however, just because it made him look more official.

Zion I, the band that really impressed dm two weeks prior at Edge of Eden, were very mediocre. Dm wandered off before the set was over.

Alborosie was fun. He's an ITALian gone rasta. Borosie is a slang for rude tourist (comes from boorish I tink) in patois; he rolled with being dubbed that and added his real name 'al' for his stage name. Through the entire set, dm was trying to remember why he liked Alborosie, as he was into his music for a while a few years back. He was sitting on a couch in the VIP room with some of the other JNK, all watching the TV simulcast and pondering what his big hit was. It was, of course, Kingston Town, and when he did that song for his finale, DM & the JNK leaped up and went to listen. J. Boog joined him for that.

There was an IPR and his brother that walked off AMA, leaving the venue for their car (the brother was sober enough to drive). The RM response crew abandoned them at the gate, but sensing trouble, DM and another core JNK (the one who as at Edge of Eden no less), decided to follow them just be sure they got past the line of blue patrolling the front gate. Dm, the IPR, the IPR bro and the other JNK were all sitting at the front when the girls appeared. T had spotted Dm in front as Mrs. Dm drove by on the way to parking, so she dropped them off right there. After a short chat, they went off to run amuck. Later, at dinner, the Dms casually informed the girls that one of the other guys was high on acid (Mrs. Dm could tell from the car) and their jaws dropped. They had no idea and had never been that close to a tripper.

Mrs. Dm and Dm enjoyed Ziggy from the VIP lounge couch on the TV simulcast. The girls were front of stage or somewhere. Then Mrs dm took the girls home again.

That night, Dm crashed hard as soon as it was over. Good sleep.

DM was up with the sunrise on Sunday. It's conditioned deep into DM now as he has to wake up and drive HWY17 a lot. So dm got his qigong done, packed his things (remember the cat-pee-spoiling-the-yoda-tent episode earlier?) and made it home in a little over half an hour. There he showered and had breakfast, then picked up the girls and went back.

Dm spent more time at RM on Sunday. The show manager had been pumping up the fact that he managed to get a lot of JNK to Cali Roots (It was a good reggae line-up, so they'd come like bugs to a lamp). But there hadn't been any major IPRs and DM has been on this campaign with the JNK to show more magik. Lately, with few major IPRs, they've just vanished into the smoky haze. So Dm took over the table service and started hustling. The girls joined him for an hour or so (T is getting more interested in volunteering for RM, which would actually be good experience for her). That afternoon, DM bested the donations of the previous two days, taking in over $100 and about half a dozen buds, some hash and a fat dab in a container. It was a good magik trick and gave the JNK something to think about. Actually, dm stacked the deck there because Sunday was sunny, so dm knew that it would be a big sunscreen day and the table would be busy.

Dm ditched his radio before Damien and joined the girls for the last set. It was packed, but the girls managed to squeeze into a tiny spot in the seated area on stage left. Dm found a spot in the aisle and was quickly reminded of the power of teenage girls that secured a spot so close. It was disastrously tight, but manageable, and people were friendly. There was a major beer spill on T's jacket. Worse, there was a barfing on the staircase near the aisle where Dm was standing, but it was mostly water and not odoriferous (at least, not over the smoke). The girls were well behaved, very amused by an enormous joint one dude was smoking - dm was too because it was the size of a cardboard paper towel roll. Damien threw down an amazing set. The audience was really fired up (pun intended) so the call-response was thundering. Woi Yo! Woi Yo Yo Yo! When greeted with such luv, Damien's band really turned it on. When it was over, Dm and the girls made a dash to get out and beat out the traffic as there's only one tiny road between the venue and the highway.

We were home before midnight and spent memorial day loafing about, napping and eating.

[Drunk Monk]

Man, I'm so glad I take notes here. Helps with the memory loss.

I leave tomorrow after TCEC&KFTCD, U2, and the Letterman finale. And yes, it's to return the jump bag, AED and banner. I have done some extra work to secure a +3 for my family and T has an extra pass for a friend, which might bounce across two friends, her main academic challenger for top of the class and the daughter of our Irish guest at U2, and her boyfriend, who is thinking about going into Fire. Sunday, I'm also proctoring one of T's teachers, a young psych PhD who is doing volunteer Fire.

Once more, into the breech.

[Drunk Monk]

I'm slammed at work, picking up the pieces from the tournament (it's my burden to report it and everyone else has moved on). So I'm just going to post my semi-decipherable notes for now and fill in the gaps later, when I get a moment.

1st call front of stage - hippie feet - sun darting in and out - bathroom skirmish - no artist description in pamphlet - THE PINCH (parking, food, resources) - reggae spreads like mold - missed panda - steel pulse still has their sound but their horns have faded - prez brown - soja = meh, other vols like them so i covered - misty morning - masseuse in car doing makeup for an hour, engine running - sent girls on wade's trike - foggy - one call with fire, sun came out after for a few minutes - people giving me a lot of stuff - chronix = good for 2 songs - dirty heads = stereotypical cali reggae - all the freaky people make the beauty of the world - LEO over stage for franti - f-in jeff & jeffy j - pebbles - yoga w/rami - tribal seeds during a call = nice and bassy - migration jams as fans of bigger acts collide with food lines (mini donuts was really bad)

And a few thought/notes while reviewing this
nesto's white reggae comment - cypress hill gets off the best right side vs. left side eva - 1 shroomer who was totally oriented, discussed buddhism, rastafarianism and the BIG PICTURE - i was a pawn in the food wars and retreated to buying fried calamari - free lemonade - buddha sticker for iphone - sick cat

[Drunk Monk]

It was a painfully gray Monterey weekend, overcast and cool, and it even rained on Saturday morning, just enough to get the fine dust to stick to my car and camping equipment. That always makes for a mellow show though, because people just don't drink as much.

I got there early and scored an excellent spot (kinda near last year's spot) with my brand new massive 3-person Coleman tent and air mattress, and our precious REI backpacking tent which S doesn't allow my to take to festivals but made this exception for the girls. Tara came with her friend Caroline, the two top-of-their-class students, and coincidentally the sister of the Irishmen we brought to U2. They were staying the night. hock:

I got in early and helped lay the foundations for the weekend, making signs and setting up. This year, we felt THE PINCH resources were all tighter because more people have attached to the scene, sucking up real estate and commodities. We were doing our own food (more on this later), parking was really tight, and there were more people than ever. There was a nasty skirmish between RM and merch. We shared a building and its men's and women's restrooms but merch cannot cut through RM due to our strict HIPPA compliance and their supe and our supe butted heads like rams in heat. It was unfortunate because a little patience could have resolved it more amicably with a little more pipe and drape; what eventually happened is we claimed the men's room and merch claimed the women's room. It worried me because our supe does all the camping festivals, something that's a major pride point (it's not like he's getting paid) and he was at breaking point over what was ultimately a trivial matter. He's got a lot of camp outs to manage this summer, so I hope he holds it together. Given the growth pressure, if it had been hot, CR would have been tough. There were migration jams as fans of bigger acts collide with food lines (the line in front of the mini donuts stand was really bad). I've been expecting this. Reggae spreads like mold in a dreadlock.

There were no artist descriptions in the pamphlet. I have never seen this, ever. All we got was a poorly done hieroglyphic based map (the distinction between the icons for the original stage and the Cali stage were faint shades of blue), a poorly designed schedule (had to look at everything twice to get it) and lots and lots of ads. Good printing, heavy stock paper, but just ads? srsly? Very telling about what this fest is about now. merch...and mold.

I responded to the first call, taking a wheelchair across front of the main stage during the first act (or maybe it was the second). That was fun. Mostly it was hippie feet though, and a few syncopals. The sun darted in and out and while out, I helped hustle nearly $100 in donations. People gave me a lot of stuff all weekend. All kinds of stuff. Free lemonade from a vendor stand. Even a talking Yoda-head flashlight. I'm well stocked with stuff now. I only bought one sticker, the Kamakura Buddha that matches my veranda Buddha, which I put on my iPhone case.

I missed Giant Panda Dub Squad, who I've been wanting to see for some time just because I like their name. Steel Pulse was good, always a classic, although their horn section seemed weaker than what I remembered. Prezident Brown made a surprise cameo with SP (he wasn't even playing at CR) but that was short and unimpressive. Soja closed Friday, and to them, like to a lot of CA reggae, I say 'meh'. Many of the other vols were into them, so I covered RM quite happily and gave them all a big "told ya so" when they returned after unimpressed.

The girls were in bed before I even got to camp. They had a great day and that let DM come out to play for the evening.

Saturday morning was misty. There was a new masseuse who sat in her car doing makeup for an hour with her engine running (our cars were squeezed in our camp - part of the PINCH). I sent the girls on a ride on Wade's trike, a self-built tricked out psychedelic motor-trike with a blasting stereo system. Wade is a longtime RM friend, and clean and sober, so as strange as it sounds to send my teenage daughter off with a crazed biker, it was cool and the girls had a total blast.

We had one call where Fire responded probably because someone in the audience dialed 911. It was a minor call that became major because of the response, and Fire was more than happy to hand the patient off to us. The sun peaked out for a few minutes just after, as if to say 'thanks & praises'.

I caught some of Chronix, a band that's good for two songs, then gets sounding repetitive in a way like most undiscerning listeners probably characterize all reggae. Dirty Heads is such stereotypical CA reggae - another 'meh'. S came to pick up T that night (Caroline went home with her brother, the one who joined us for U2, who bought a ticket and seemed to have a grand time on his own that day). S and T stayed for Michael Franti. We got up to the VIP area on the side of stage and had a grand time. Franti was out in the audience, releasing a horde of beach balls, getting us all to chant 'all the freaky people make the beauty of the world', doing his usual theatrics. 'Twas fun. I checked my star map app and saw that Leo was right over the stage for Franti. Then my family went home.

Once again, left unchaperoned, DM could run amuck that night. He renamed the two Jeffs, supe Jeff J. became Jeffy J and the previous-known-as 'little Jeff' (a slightly derogatory name as he's short, but Jeffy J is well over six feet), him I renamed F-in Jeff (his last name begins with F). Not sure how well those will stick but we're hoping. Also renamed a way-too-talkative vol Pebbles because she ate way too many medically-laced Fruity Pebbles and had to be force fed more by decision of all the crew to get her to shut up. Later it was revealed that they were really Trix, but that wouldn't have worked for her nickname as well.

Sunday, T's BF came with T and I managed to orchestrate parking his big fat truck quite nicely. I should mention that both T's friends looked like deer in headlights for the early part of the show, but then surrendered to the riddem and had a great time. Also joining was one of T's teachers, a PhD in psychology and a volunteer Fire responder. I had her in tow for the morning, getting her oriented. She started doing some yoga and I mentioned how they usually have yoga and then we noticed it was going down right then, right across from RM, so we joined in. And it was a good class...for hippie yoga that is. She sat alongside as I talked down our biggest tripper - a shroomer who was totally oriented. We discussed buddhism, rastafarianism and the BIG PICTURE. It was amusing as talkdowns go, but I wasn't on my game. Got him back in the crowd nevertheless.

Sunday's music was lackluster. One of my JNK and I were walking towards a band and I asked who he thought it was. He replied without seeing them "another reggae band without any black people". Sure enough, he was right. I caught a lot of Tribal Seeds during a call. They were nice and bassy and made for a good soundtrack to a mediocre rescue. The highlight for me was Cypress Hill, a band that I've followed since their very beginning. They got off the best right side vs. left side battle eva - had the whole audience laughing and participating, dropping F-bombs at each other and talking smack - hilarious. They also had some great old skool scratching and a wicked bongo solo.

I got caught in this weird RM food war. Breaky and Dindin was supposed to be provided by RM. Wade, a former chef, always cooks for his friends out of his own pocket - decent food too, especially breaky; his dindin was an excellent tri-tip which I would have thoroughly enjoyed in my carnivorous incarnation. But see, there's the rub. As a pescatarian, they were going out of their way to make special food for me, despite my declinations of their offers. RM gave F-in Jeff and his sig O (who are part of my TCEC&KFTCD Dragon crew I should add) $200 to provide 6 meals for 40 vols. Do the math there. That's $5 for 6 meals. So they were struggling (and I should note that they aren't really cooks). Then they would make these special veg offerings (mac & cheese, spaghetti with veg prego) but huge amounts, like a frakking massive bowl, just for me. It was awkward. I would up buying fried calamari at one of the food stands (and that was delicious).

The downside of it all was that T came down with a bad sore throat right after. She's had a rough week - had to miss two days at school, and we bailed out of BottleRock (or I'd be there right now with her instead of writing this here). She still has a nasty cough. She's learned how to stay safe from predators at festivals, but still has to learn how to pace herself and avoid illnesses. That has taken me years and I still overdo now and again.

[Drunk Monk]

I just remembered that Cypress Hill busted out this foot-long double-barreled joint that was shaped like a shotgun. That was super funny. Luv those guys! They were the best act of the fest.

:weedman:

[Drunk Monk]

Last year there were a ton of lams for everyone. This year, there was an ALL ACCESS Cali lam, but only a few were given out to RM and I didn't get one. Those ALL ACCESS Cali lams didn't get you anywhere. The whole fest was wristband based, so there was really no need for lams at all. The only RM lams were the ones that I made. And I only had the bandwidth to make one this year.

The funniest thing was that Cali Roots, in all of its merchandising greed, was selling past ALL ACCESS lams for a buck. They had the Cali Roots logo and ALL ACCESS printed in bold on them. They could easily fool a lazy (or stoned) security gate person. Heck, the JNK used to make a game about how far they could get using the JNK lams that I made for them; most could jedi their way on stage with them by Sunday because by then, the drugs have worn down all the security to threadbare attention spans.

[Drunk Monk]

I got a great nights sleep just now and feel refreshed after car-break-in>TCEC&KFCTD>Dead&Co>Bruce Lee Giants>$900-car-window-repair. I'm telecommuting today and headed to Monterey this afternoon to help load-in and return the 2nd AED as the 1st was stolen. T comes back from a 2 week DC trip tonight. She joins me tomorrow with Caroline again and they will stay both nights. This years bf can't make it. My mission is to not let them get sick. I have a pass for Stacy but she doesn't want it.  

Yesterday I was joking about catching up on my sleep at this festival. But this morning, I feel surprisingly rested. Maybe it's momentum, or I'm just numb.