This Never Happened on the CD

So I went to the concert. We lined up for an hour or so to get through a security bag check. It was like being at an airport, except we didn't have to take off our shoes. They made everyone dump out the contents of any liquid that was not still sealed, to prevent people from bringing alcohol in, I guess. They did have a water-bottle filling station inside the gate, but it was a pain. The publicity material had said no bottles or cans, which I assumed was to prevent litter, broken glass, and things being thrown at the performers. But everyone had to dump out canteens, waterskins, camelbacks and the like. I've just while writing this realized that if you absolutely need a mickey of cheap liquor to complement your retro pop, you could probably bring it in inside an opaque sunblock container. But I suppose the folks that really need vodka to recreate their high school experiences need more than 200 mL of it.

The weather was perfect, sunny and warm, but not too hot. The performers were great, and I lay in the grass and listened without once thinking about steep turns or one hundred eighty degree precision landings. The ambiance and showmanship more than made up for declines in vocal ranges over the years. I stuffed myself on festival food and then fell asleep right there on the picnic blanket. Turns out I had food poisoning. I went home and mostly slept for another day and a half until my immune system had sorted out whatever it was and turned my brain back on for me to use. Sometimes real life is like nethack.