Hardly Strictly

This weekend was incredibly unproductive.  I mean AWESOME, but unproductive.  I had all these great plans "I will do laundry, and buy groceries, and go to UPS, and decorate my house, and bike to the beach, and unpack, and memorize my lines, and everything wonderful and good that I can do in one weekend."

British flags for Hugh Laurie on Saturday; he was very good and very funny.

And then it was the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival (www.strictlybluegrass.com).  Under the impression that it was a nightly set of concerts, I believed I could do both (be productive and listen to some great music); however, when I got home on Friday and started looking into it, I realized that I was sorely mistaken.  Running from 11:00 am to 7:00 pm everyday it was definitely going to eat up my entire weekend.  I don't think I ever entertained the fact that I would only go for a few hours, then be productive for the rest.  I know how I feel about live music.

I had intended to show up at 11 am on Saturday and leave at the end of the day.  At some point I would meet up with Bobby and a couple others and we would hang out or something afterwards.  I text Andy, my ambassador to all things music and men's fashion, about which acts to see.  Some good advice and a jealous request for a t-shirt later, I had a plan of action.

People packing into all the empty spaces around the Punch Brothers.

I made the mistake of trying to take a bus to the sketchy UPS store Saturday morning before the festival (and only realized after returning today in my car that it was closed on the weekend), which put me lost out in the middle of nowhere (or maybe in SOMA?) at 11 am.  Thoroughly pissed, I caught the 5 back, which just happened to run along the park and drop off at the festival.  The buses were PACKED.  Like I knew Hardly Strictly was a big deal, but C'MON, it's bluegrass right?  How much of a market can there be for bluegrass in CALIFORNIA.  I mean, I come from Virginia, near Appalachia, where bluegrass and folk has some serious roots and it's not a big deal... clearly California is the place to be a bluegrass musician.  It is one of the biggest events of the year and I didn't realize what exactly that meant until I was standing room only at the Rooster Stage trying to hear the Punch Brothers over the hum of the crowd.

More images of the crowds on Saturday.  I was literally having nightmares that night about people being everywhere around my apartment.  Except my apartment was on the National Mall in D.C.

This guy was just one of the gems of fashion creativity at the festival.

Also let's talk about how San Franciscans are not shy about their substance use.  I have a feeling drinking and smoking were not allowed at the festival, but everyone was doing it.  People were selling beer for up to 5 bucks a pop, today I saw a guy walking around just holding up a cannabis bud (or whatever it's called, clearly I don't smoke very often), and more than once saw people toking up next to their kids.  Staff members at the park turned a blind eye, and I've gotta say that was actually very cool b/c let's be honest, everyone at the festival was being very cool to each other.

On Saturday I was not enjoying myself.  The boys were an hour late (which I ironically found very annoying) and then when they finally arrived I resented having to keep up with them.  And not realizing that there was no beer sold (officially) in the park.  We were moving around from stage to stage so much that we never had a good a seat (admittedly my fault) and I'm pretty sure Bobby's friend wasn't very into it.  Then we left early. UGH.  Luckily my pissy mood was redeemed by my fill of Indian food, and unprompted phone call from Topher, and the most AMAZING view from Dolores park.  That view saved the entire day.  Drinking a beer, talking, looking out at the lights of the city was a perfect end to the day.

A feeble attempt to capture the view from Mission Dolores Saturday night.

Then today at Hardly Strictly was awesome.  On Andy's recommendation I "holy shit just stay[ed] at the banjo stage all fucking day."  I got there at 11 or something, bought some merch, and settled near enough to the stage that I could see and hear but not near enough to really be in it.  I brought To Kill a Mockingbird and my corresponding script and spent the times in between reading, studying my lines, and realizing that I've forgotten everything Christopher Owens ever taught me about acting (regretfully so).  My favorite band of the day were The Blind Boys of Alabama (actually blind), a soul group that got the whole crowd on their feet.  I had been pretty stoic (sort of) the whole festival but I couldn't help dancing and clapping along, they blew me away.  I stayed the whole day, just doing my thing and listening to music.  As much as I thought I wanted to be in a big group with a big cooler, being there today on my own was amazing.  I think I've said it before, but alone in public is one of my favorite ways to be.

The Blind Boys of Alabama!  Ironically people kept applauding in sign language.

End of the day at Hardly Strictly