Choosing to Play Dirty: Floyd Fest 9 (...it's all about the people)

What's your limit when it comes to close quarters in the woods? Tents pitched back to back, barely a path between the thin nylon bubble that is your abode for days. You open a window flap and there's the neighbor. You step out your door in pajamas, there's the neighbor. Coolers emptied of their water in dusty, bustling walkways that serve as the inroads to this Tent City at music festivals all over the country. Up and down the alleys there are people brushing their teeth, discreetly spitting in the nooks and crannies around their temporary homes. Peeing goes on too, sometimes not so discreetly, late at night outside your window. Outside the City the Port-o-Lets are lined up, ready and waiting for the thousands of people that would NEVER use these odoriferous pods otherwise. Thye'll walk a mile for a spit of water to bathe with. More likely you walk around with dirty feet for several days or take a bird bath in that dusty pathway in front of your tent.

We manage to accept these short term, no luxury lifestyles with gusto and a sense of verve because we get to be with our pals. We've all had the Festival Koolaid and will turn a blind eye to those Port-o-Lets and dirty feet for a long weekend just so we can spend time with friends we adore to listen to often great, sometimes lousy music and dance our asses off in either case.

But, just a thought, what if we ended up in these very same circumstances- a Tent City with limited amenities-because suddenly our homes got blown away by a dastardly hurricane or similar catastrophe? Would our attitudes be the same? Full of fun and frivolity, patting ourselves on the back for being able to give up our cushy cyber lives for a few days because we know that Sunday evening we'll be back in the sanctuaries of our homes: clean sheets, clean feet, clean toilets. Just a thought...

( Special thanks to my Tent City friends for once again thinking, foolishly I'm sure, that I might be an okay companion for Floyd Fest 2010. We did, actually, have a helluva good time. Living the Good Life no matter what the conditions are is all about the people...)

Social Tickets Redeemed

SATURDAY by the SEA

For ever so long I have not spared any of my social tickets on anything other than my own pomp and circumstance of Life on The Party Patio, conjuring up one gala soiree or another, gathering around me all the # 1's that make each evening "the best one ever". And we would say that after each party: the Casino Party, the Cowgirl Party, the Italian Red Party..."Wow! That was the best party ever!!" And then after that, I would be pooped and had no more social tickets to spend: festivals, late night music, other people's parties....I turned them all down. Of course, the Mutant Teenager who is still with the Aliens held me captive as well for years.

But now I am emerging from my tiny life, redeeming some of those tickets and saying yes yes yes to all sorts of things and having a big time doing it. Hangout festival? "Really- you guys are inviting me?"... Canoe ride for Ed's Non Birthday? Hell yea!....Crowding up to watch World Cup soccer at Finnegan's, sweating profusely, with Jack? I'll be there...

Then I issued my own invite for a Saturday by the Sea weekend to the clan that allowed me the privilege of hanging at the Hangout Fest. Alligator Point, Asian wonder of a house, all night cards, tequila, summer storms, incredible eats: we had it all...

Looking into the Mirror of Men

Have you ever run into someone and after spending some time hitting the highlights of life with them look at them and say, "Gee, you're just like me but you're a dude!" There's a lot of good, bad and potentially ugly stuff that can come from observing this quirk of nature. Sometimes you burst forth with happiness at getting to laugh your ass of with this mirror image of yourself who thinks some stupid thing is just as hilarious as you do. Or when you both notice some minor detail that is invisible to everyone else. But then there's a tantrum thrown and you have to hide your head and secretly admit that you'd have done the same thing and vow to work on that temper of yours...The facets of your personality reflected back at you are endless.

Watching it through the mirror of the man can be enlightening and touching and cringe worthy all at the same time. Do I really do that? It looks like me, sounds like me but with my feline way I am not able to pull off the bigness of the male emotion. I'd like to mimic these at times- like the huge, joyful affection that my Man Twin can properly pull off with people but makes me look like a squeaky mouse. Or the bull that charges through the garden ripping and tearing out everything in his path like a Paul Bunyan but has me trailing quietly behind picking up the pieces. It's exciting! It's fun! And what's more- I don't have to make all the decisions! Someone else can actually match my energy and leave me in the dust....

Here's my top pick in my Men by Numbers game this week: