At this point, a solid chunk of the summer festival lineups are out and I've never been more underwhelmed. But over the past few weeks I've come to the conclusion it's not the artists on the bill, but the mere thought of going. Daft Punk/Fleetwood Mac/Michael Jackson Hologram could be headlining - and I'd still pass.
Three years ago if you would have asked me what my passion was, I'd have given you some kooky answer involving music festivals. Don't get me wrong here - I'm still a huge nerd about music and supporting acts by going to shows and all that nonsense, but I'm just tired.
The idea of going to Bonnaroo (or just about any other festival) again sounds exhausting. I mean, just look how tired I look up there, and that's only day one. There's the packing and the drive and the sun, OH THE SUN. Right about now, a quiet camping trip with bonfires and leisure hikes sounds leaps and bounds better than seeing The Black Keys for the 13th time, dripping in sweat and sunscreen, secretly wishing they would wrap it up already so you can go sit in the fountain.
Not to get all Carrie Bradshaw with the questions here, but are we getting too old for the whole festival thing? By "we" I actually mean "me" - you may in fact still be a chipper young thing who can bound across muddy fields and not sleep for three days. I'm not even old - I'll keep my jadedness in check here. At twenty-four, I should be able to hang. But a real world job changes your concept of time. I want a vacation that's all leisure for my precious PTO - there's no time anymore for two bookend "vacation recovery" days.
Am I alone here? Are you guys tired too? Maybe we all just have a finite number of four-day-sweat-fests our bodies can handle? If your well hasn't run dry yet and the wristbands are already en route, HERE'S what you should wear.
P.S. Someone let me know if you figure out another appropriate venue for me to break out my crop top collection.