AutumnMeet09: Rebirth

I just spent the past week at festival.  The new reincarnation of festival is truly made of “win”.  The Phoenix is rising again.

You have to read the whole thing here because I’m going to start out on some negatives.  In the interest of chronology and honesty, I have to start this story in the headspace I was in before the event started and it wasn’t such a nice place.  So bear with me, the good stuff is coming…

I don’t think it’s any secret that I’ve been looking to walk away from the events for some time now.  Between the drama-seekers, the stress of working my ass off on my only “vacation” time and the fact that I’m not there for any spiritual reason any more…  I was done.  The recent move to Central Florida made it impossible for Teresa and Becca to attend and it looked like a convenient excuse for me to just drop out of the whole scene.  I mean, it only made sense: I wasn’t able to make it to every single event back when it was in Central Florida before, maybe I wouldn’t make it to every single event now that it’s back in Central Florida…  The main reason I didn’t was that by the time I made the decision to quit, it was too close to the event and I didn’t feel like it would have been fair of me to walk out on such short notice.  Not that I am irreplaceable, but it just wouldn’t have been nice.  So I gave it my best shot to get out to this event, planning on it being my last.  Man am I glad I stuck it out for one more event!

I couldn’t afford to take the time off of work and couldn’t even pull together gas money for the trip down.  We’ve been deadly flat homeless-style broke for the last six months and there hasn’t even been a few dollars to scrape together and save up for the trip.  So when I was offered a ride down and back that accommodated my late-in-the-week start, I went and packed my bags.  Teresa threw a dozen bottles of water and a few apples in a cooler and I was prepared to get by all week on the bare minimum.

And to be perfectly honest, the money isn’t the only reason I almost didn’t go.  Over the years I’ve enjoyed learning about many of the religions represented there and I’ve enjoyed participating in some of the workshops and rituals.  But it’s not the scene for me.  I enjoy the diversity, I respect their traditions but I’ve found my place in the world of religions, I no longer need to search out my path.  So I’m not there for the spiritual side, I’m certainly not there for the high stress of feeding two hundred people out of a primitive kitchen.  I had to ask myself, “Why am I still going?”  A few months ago I was contacted by one of the people I consider to be integral to the event.  Without him and his family it just wouldn’t be “festival” anymore.  He asked if I was going to make it to the new site (and at the time I was still deliberating) and that it wouldn’t be the same without me.  This pushed me over the edge and I decided to make the trip.  I still have a hard time believing I even register on some of these people’s radars.  I’m actually quite shy and insecure you know…

Every time is my last… until I show up on site and fall in love with the people all over again.  The Phoenix Festivals have made a strong effort to be a family.  Not just a twice-a-year event but a lasting community that interacts on a daily basis and then looks forward to visiting together at the festival site.  This is the draw that keeps me coming back.  I walk out onto the site and I am happy to be home amongst my friends again.  I could never give this up.

I made the trip down with Wade and his bird (one of many).  I really try not to be a nervous passenger but when the driver has a bird on his forearm, is making a phone call and drifting to the right at an alarming pace… I just couldn’t keep quiet.  He was fully in control and he knows what he’s doing, but I just kept freaking out…  It was actually a great drive down.  I don’t get to hang out with Wade as often as I wish I could so it was nice to talk for the entire drive down.

When we got there he pulled the truck over to where the kitchen was set up.  I surveyed the area and picked the spot right behind the kitchen so I was close to it but also out of sight and out of the way of other camps.  I had packed light because I was riding along and my bin of “stuff” was bulging and the lid was bungee corded tight.  When I went to unload the truck I picked up the bin over my head and WHAP!  the bungee cord came loose and knocked me in my temple hard enough to draw blood.  I blacked out for a second and had to grab the side of the truck to keep from falling.  Ten seconds on site and I get my ass kicked by a bungee cord…

We are only running the kitchen for staff now.  I no longer need to worry (too much) about rigid schedules and special needs.  We don’t even have vegetarians or major allergies on staff so I get to cook real food!  On steak night EVERYONE wanted their steak medium-rare or less!  Who hit the “Easy” button?  Yay, no stress!  I loved running the kitchen this event.  I got the food out to my staff hot and fast.  No more cold food sitting on a plate until they get a break to eat.  Thom works the fire late into the night.  He woke up around 10:45 and I had already closed and cleaned the kitchen around 9:30.  But when he got up he had bacon and eggs hot out of the pan.  THIS is the kitchen I always wanted to be a part of.  Taking orders and insults from random strangers is not my idea of fun, but going out of my way to feed the cast that runs the event is a lot more fun that I thought it could be.  I miss the kitchen utilities we had at the old site but I got by just fine washing dishes on the tailgate of a truck.

The new site was a surprise.  I felt like the move was a bit hurried and we were jumping into a new site without any thought other than leaving the old one behind.  We kept hearing how great the site is by people who live five minutes away and have a trailer with electricity and a private toilet…  The pictures we saw of it looked like an empty sand lot.  I was not expecting much.

But it was actually a nice farmer’s field with giant oak trees providing plenty of shade.  No electricity, no water except in one spot (long hoses run over to my kitchen…)  Strategically placed port-o-potties were all around.  I tried like hell to hold it in all week but finally broke down and had to use the facilities.  FUCK I hate port-o-potties!  But there is news that they are building a real bathhouse soon and we’ll have hot water and real flush toilets.  I can only hope.  The solar showers worked fine during the day but that 8am shower was COLD!  In the end, the new site really should have been a disaster, but it wasn’t.  It had a really nice feel to it and I liked it a lot.  Of course it sucks being so far away but then, I guess it has to be far away for someone.  Priorities man… Is it worth the hassle?  Some people make the trip from out of state (FAR out of state) and for them, it’s worth it.  Is it worth it for me?

Yes.  I think it is.  The best part of festival was the conversations.  I don’t do any of the rituals any more and many of the workshops don’t interest me.  I spent lots of time in the kitchen but mostly because I was having fun in there.  I had plenty of time on my own and that was nice.  Late in the day I would go out into the main circle (the only place with direct sunlight, ohhh those trees were beautiful and big!) and I’d lie down and catch a nap.  I never had time for that before.  But when I wasn’t napping like a cat or running the kitchen I had plenty of time to talk with my friends.  Not just two minute chats but long, drawn out conversations.  I loved that part.  I got to know new friends better  and reconnect with old friends tighter.  Hopefully they all got to know me better as well.  I think of those conversations and I smile…

The drumming was different this time around.  We got some of the better drummers around to attend and they really helped hold it all together.  The last few years have seen the drummers whittle away and leave it to a few of us amateurs.  I like to think I’m getting good but when I’m only one voice in three (or two…) We can’t hold it for long.  If one of us stands up for a break, the entire circle drops and we’re done for the night.  That sucks.  But with the hired guns, I got to stand up, smoke a cigar, grab a drink and sit back down while the drums continued.  That was nice.  I also got to fall asleep to the drums for once.  Never had that happen before.  When the pros were really belting it out and gaining momentum I backed out of the way a bit.  One of them thought that maybe I was offended and asked if they had created an us/them atmosphere but I didn’t feel that way.  Well, to be honest I was a bit miffed for a second when they stood in front of me and crowded me out but I knew why they had done it.  They needed the room, I gave it to them.  When I say I hope I’m getting good, I know I’d be better if I played every single day.  These guys are musicians 24/7 and I just don’t even begin to compare to them…

And so I saw it as an opportunity to get better.  When it’s just me and a few others, I don’t have much room to expand.  With the top-enders playing, I got a chance to experiment and emulate.  I had an opportunity to try new things without shitting the bed.  (Golden rule in drumming: if you fuck up, count to four and do it again, call it a new pattern)  I’d hear them rip something new and I’d lightly play it again on my drum.  When I felt I had it right, I played it a little louder and meshed in with the crowd again.  It was a fantastic chance to learn new licks while playing with these pros.  There were a few times I really let loose and had fun in my own right.  I felt like I was holding my own and when I finally looked up from my frenzied attack, the nods from the others told me I was keeping up just fine.  Big goofy grin here…

The less that’s said of the other events the better.  Let it just be said that maybe I was wro..  wr… wr… wrong when I said I would never sing karaoke again.  Thom, John and I are bad influences on each other.  Singing is not my forte but I can toss the fuck out of a caber though…  Lots of fun events this trip.  Live music, karaoke night, Highland games (complete with a piper!) and an impromptu soccer match.  You really don’t want to see this fat boy run…

I also think of the people I missed this event.  For one reason or another, some of the people I wanted to see were not in attendance.  Some just couldn’t make it this time, some will not be returning.  Whatever their reasons, I missed them a lot.  I felt their absence throughout the entire event.  And when I consider if I will return, I think about how much I will miss the rest of these people and these long talks… and I know then that I will continue for a long time to come.  Strange to think but when it comes down to it, I’ve decided to come back because I get to give a part of myself to others, and they accept my offerings.  I get to feed and care for the staff members and I get to play my drum for the dancers.  I met new people and I reconnected with old friends.  I guess I really do get something out of this after all…

Some people are saying that this event was a rebirth of the festivals.  I think it was also a renewal of each of the staff members.  I was not the only person close to burn-out status.  I talked with a few people in the same category and without exception they all felt that this event revitalized them and rekindled the love we have for the Phoenix family.  For the first time in a while, I am looking forward to the next event.