Highs and Lows

Favorite Floydfest Bands!

Carolina Chocolate Drops

Rose's Pawn Shop

Hackensaw Boys

Andy Palacio and the Garifuna Collective

Toubab Krewe (under the light of a full moon--note the speaker and set up to the right of the stage)

Summer is coming to a close. I am back in Indiana. Work is finished in Tennessee, and I have already been through Ohio to visit a few folks (for the first time since I graduated college).

The last few weeks have definitely been a combination of highs and lows. I'll find myself at this peak (sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively) and be really soaking up life with satisfaction, but then in the next moment I find myself down in the dirt (sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively). I'll provide the necessary synopsis of a couple of those moments.

You may have noticed the above pictures of some amazing bands that I saw at Floydfest. :) Emilee and I went to this music festival in Virginia (named for being in Floyd, VA, not because of anything to do with Pink Floyd). It featured mainly bluegrass bands, but also included some eclectic and international music. With the beauty of the Blue Ridge and the endorphins of getting to dance all the time, I was having a superb time. We had a long four day weekend off from work, so we were able to get there in time for Sam Bush on Thursday and stay until Sunday. On Saturday afternoon, while I was walking around listening to the music, peering into different craft booths, and drinking my chai, I was thinking, "too bad you can't live at a music festival." It was such a happy place with gypsies, hula hoops, several hippies (if they approve as being labeled so), yet even an area for kids (thus lots of families). Minus breaks to ponder such, I danced basically from 11 am Saturday to almost 3 am Sunday--always very close to the stage and often in the front row (just my style). So you have this great moment pictured? Well, come about 2:45 am Sunday morning, underneath that full moon at the Toubab Krewe show, I was dancing (not moving a whole lot anymore because I was pretty beat) and debating on calling it a night, when with an odd speaker squeal, something came down and hit my head--hard. Instinctively, I covered the impacted area on my head with my hand while people scattered and ran about me. It was one of those moments with chaos all about me, but all I could do was be still. I felt my hand getting warm and when I took it off my head to look at it for a moment, I saw my hand was warm and wet from blood. I must say I was a bit stunned by this point-- I don't handle blood well. I squatted down where I was standing and a few qualified folks in the crowd (a nurse and a few emts) responded to me. By this point, I was scared. The folks who surrounded me were amazingly nice though. I quickly had ice on my head and soon the bleeding was clotting (nice job platelets). I thought a light fixture had fallen, but when I tell them what I think happened (when they are trying to determine if I am with it or not), they tell me that it was a 50 lb speaker that fell six feet onto my unexpecting head. I have never been so grateful to be hard headed and that even though I was exhausted, I was still dancing enough that I wasn't hit square on any part of my body. Now you realize that this wonderful weekend was plummetting to a tremendous low. A very small highlight, my WFR training helped me to follow along with everything that was going on, and I saw that even ambulance first responders get nervous when they have to communicate on the radio. The hospital was a 45 minute ambulance ride away, and at somewhere around 4 or 5 am, I was finally cleared of spinal injury. At about 6 am, I got patched up with 7 staples in the upper left side of my head (I could post a picture of this, but I thought most people--besides my sister--don't want to see this). Worse still, the festival people who gave us their phone number so we could call them to pick us up, did not answer their phone until 8 am and didn't arrive until after 9. With no sleep, Emilee and I jumped into their car, where we were provided with terrible, forced small talk (which I do not take well to on any morning) and quickly offered about anything we wanted (cds, shirts, VIP passes, food, etc.). And the story continues to be a collection of low points as I have to sternly correspond with the festival staff and sound company about covering my med expenses and how to compensate for negligent actions. Yuck.
How's that for a sudden high to low? Goodness. Thankfully, the staples are already out and I am healing well.

Hmmm...maybe one more high and low. I went to see Nickel Creek and Fiona Apple in Columbus last night. Super kickin show. It was great to see one of my favorite bands--and see them mix styles and perform half of the time with a talented artist with a very alternative style. I love the collision of alternative and bluegrass...sweet. I find myself feeling great after visiting Crystal and wonderful people in Ohio, and even better that I am dancing again so soon (not near any speakers) at this fab show. Ummm, well Laura, what is the low? In short, the low is that I HATE OHIO! I think being in Ohio more than 72 hours (that is semi-generous) makes me extremely frustrated. So here I am dancing at this show back in the cheaper yard area--where everyone should be on their feet and dancing--and these girls behind me want me to move (from a place that I was at earlier than them) so that they can sit on their asses to watch the show. I couldn't believe the girl had the audacity to tell me to take my dancing elsewhere as to not impede her view when we were at a concert. What is that?? Where does that happen?? Answer: OHIO. There at that amazing concert I found myself in culture shock. Where were all the fun-loving, happy, nice people that I was just dancing with in Virginia? Answer: Not Columbus, Ohio. It was like a flood of memories of college experiences of hating where I was--surrounded by inhibited, lazy young people who can only have fun if they are wasted, erg. Today, sad to say goodbye to Crystal, I got myself out of the toxicity of that state. I wish that I had no association with anyone in Ohio and I could guarantee never to return. So low #2= Ohio. Don't go there and my apologies if you live there. If you do live there, work to make it a better, happier, less inhibited place. I am not willing to fight that battle. I just prefer to leave...quickly.

On a sunnier note, work in the Smokies did end with smiles and sunshine. Check out our pretty smiling faces. :)