Rockin' the MidWest-Part 1

These events depicted herein are true. Only the details have been made hazy so as to become less locatable via Google.

It didn't take long upon our arrival to the campgrounds where we had originally planned to spend out weekend for me to realize that I truly dislike camping. It was alright during the day-sitting outside in daylight is not necessarily an uncomfortable experience. The bad part was at night. I do not believe that the Creator meant us to sleep out of doors. Had this been the intention certainly there never would've been the invention of houses.
We were down in that town on the outskirts of Columbus that has the same name as the largest city in Ireland. The only possible reason to go to this town is because of the once yearly festival that celebrates the culture of the country from whence the name sprung. The town goes from a Kroger and a strip mall highlighted by a strip mall to a bustling metropolis of curly haired Irish dancing girls, exhausted traveling bands of several different formats and sweat soaked beer fueled Paddies in "Kiss me I'm Irish" t-shirts. I looked like a refugee from Bonaroo but what the hell, I just can't bring myself to wear an "Everybody Loves an Irish Girl" shirt-or even for that matter a band shirt to the concert I'm attending. I just keep thinking of that movie that came out about 10 years ago where the characters are getting ready to go to a concert and one of them intends to wear an old concert t-shirt for the same band and another character says "Don't be THAT GUY!" Since I base all of my actions on barely remembered movies from the mid-90s I have nev

er been one to be "That guy" even when doing so makes me more recognizable as part of the fan group for the band in question. Course, I didn't really have to worry much about that in this case-in this case I wasn't so much concerned with whether or not anyone would know I was there to support that rock band I'd been missing (the reason for the missing is referenced in an earlier entry although never discussed in depth-let's just say it involved sex-drugs-and rock'n'roll and ridiculously large quantities of alcohol almost all consumed by me. You've heard of drink and dial? Drink and type is worse it's still there in black and white in the morning-and for months and years to come for anyone to find) I was much more concerned I would be remembered-and not fondly. I was alternating between excited as hell and terrified that no one would speak to me.
SO-me and the sister got to the festival. Helped ourselves to beers and food and took to walking around and seeing all the expensive but quite lovely souvenirs to be had. The band was last to play that night and it was close to 10 before we pushed our way into the Celtic Rock tent. Mik got chairs right behind the standing crowd right in front of the stage. So we had all the view and none of the sweaty bodies pushing up against each other. Well, at first-by about the 5th song people were pushing for space and dancing like the rhythmless fools most of us our. It was great. Quickly I started to see familiar faces. My roommate from the infamous trip and a couple of NE Ohioans who had done me a solid once upon a time. None of them had blacklisted me-that's good to know. The show was amazing-the shouting the singing and dancing and the fists raised in the air. How had I managed to stay away from this for almost 2 years? I must have amazing inner strength I didn't know about.
After the show, Mik was ready to go back to the campsite. She was nice enough to let me hover about by the merch table and say hello to a few more people. And there were a few-from all over the damn place at that. Everyone smiling huge smiles and stretching their arm wide in hellos it was wonderful and warm and just the way one would hope a reunion would be.
I went over to the merch table and got in que to say hello to the singer. There were quite a few people ahead of me, getting t-shirts and books and whatever the hell else signed. When I got to the front he was talking to someone else and looking to the side. He turned his head toward me and a grand expression crossed his face, "I don't have anything that needs signed," I said.
"Oh my God, darlin' come here!" he put his arms around me and hugged me to his neck. "Where the hell have you been? It's been almost 2 years."
"Too long I know, too long. It won't happen again. But I'm here now and I'm ready to party!"
"You've earned it," he said.
"Why yes, I have fought for my right to party."
I went back to the gathering of peeps and said I would run the sister back to the campsite and be back to the hotel for the party at the bar within the hour. On the way back to the campsite we got miserably lost. Then we got lost again. At one point I began to have a panic attack and thought that we would neither find the campgrounds or the festival again. When we did get back I dropped her off and told her I would see her in the morning. I took off and proceeded to get lost in the campground-for half an hour. Then I got pulled over for speeding. Inside the park. This was not the way the night was supposed to go.
"Do you know why I pulled you over?" asked the officer.
"I dunno, I'm lost and I've been driving around this park for half an hour in circles and I can't figure out how to get out of the park or where my campsite is and I've driven under the same bridge about 5 times and I'm so confused."
"I clocked you at 26 in a 10mph zone."
Internally, I thought to myself, "FUCK!" Out loud I said "I didn't know the speed limit was 10-I thought it was 25. I'm just so confused and if I'd known that was the speed limit you can bet I'd have been going 10. I've never been here before and I'm lost..."
"Can I have your license, registration and proof of insurance?"
"This isn't my car. I don't know where the registration is, I'm sorry. It's my dad's car."
He took my DL and disappeared to his cruiser. I laid my head on the steering wheel and cried. When he came back he told me he was terribly sorry but he'd have to write me a ticket. I was already crying and so I decided it was worth a shot going for the sympathy vote. I began rattling off the myriad of reasons why I couldn't get a ticket: grad student, no money, camping because I couldn't afford a hotel, don't live in the state---then I just started babbling.
"We don't ever give warnings in the park. If you get caught speeding you get a ticket."
Then I babbled more I'm not even sure I was speaking in sentences. He began to soften. Then he became downright apologetic. Then he tore up the ticket and sent me on my way back to the campsite. I decided not to go back to the bar.
That would've ruined the night but it got much worse when I realized that camping means being surrounded by wild and LOUD animals. I tried sleeping in the tent-I told myself the horrible chirping beasts weren't as loud as the trains and the traffic I live with all the time. But I have acclimated myself to the noise of the city-noise that sounds like a lullaby and a reminder that life goes on outside of my darkened room. The sounds of the state park are loud obnoxious and horrific. I felt like I was sleeping in a grocery sack in hell. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning and trying to pull the wad of clothes I was using as a pillow into my ear canal to drown out the noise I gave up the fight. I went to sleep in the Honda. Sadly, this was much more comfortable.
In the morning we decided to check out of the campsite and find a hotel. Mik said she had slept like a baby and that if done right camping is fun and delightful. She also said she likes camping because it allows her to be alone with her thoughts and her various favorite amusements. Amusements in which I do not participate. Had I known this was what made camping pleasant I might've given it a shot.
We spent most of the day lost. Driving the wrong way repeatedly down the same highway my tension level getting higher and higher until I was barely able to see straight. We were lost and turned around for hours by the time we got to the hotel I needed a drink and the sister needed to smoke. After two rum and diets on my part and a few minutes locked in the bathroom with the exhaust fan running on her part we were both a little better off emotionally. We went to the festival.
We took two cars. She got a really good parking space and I parked in New Zealand. By the time we met up we had barely half an hour before the planned stop at the Spoken Word tent and we'd missed most of Ashley MacIsaac's set. We located some alcohol and I briefly took up smoking again. It wasn't until the reading began and I was able to let the story take over my mind that I really relaxed.
The sister went back to the hotel at about 7. The band didn't start until 8. So I wandered around-continued my brief foray into nicotine consumption and tried to find people.
Stay tuned for the next part of this little tale. AKA the part wherein the debauchery occurs.