This past weekend was this year’s Free Press Summerfest. While not as fantastic as last year (who can compete with The Flaming Lips and Girl Talk?) it was still an overall fantastic time.
The night before, @gunsandtacos made the joke that if you want to bring alcohol into the concert, which was not allowed, then just smuggle it via your bloodstream instead of pay out the $5 for shitty beer. I made a lawyer joke that they could search your circulatory system, via Schmerber v. California.
Summer Law rules supreme in Summerfest, so sayeth the Lawgiver!
The first day I most staked out to the left of the main stage in front of the volleyball court. An actual game started up, which was pretty neat.
Music sucks, lets play volleyball
Also, I just got Hipstamatic...
The spot in front of the volleyball court was a rather fine choice. From there I got to see the main stage, but also a water balloon fight and some guy juggling. It was a whole song and dance show.
Whammy! Boffo! Water balloons!
Hey Mr. Juggler way to juggle, but the juggle-os are at the other music festival.
Also, the view of downtown was just fantastic, as usual…
That is where oil comes from.
Of course, the greatest sight from our wonderful spot was that of a woman in a bright pink dress with a Confederate Flag tattoo on her leg. I couldn’t get a picture, but you can use your imagination.
I also did spy Aang, who was apparently either music bending, earth bending, or on drugs. It was hard to get a good shot of him, because he was moving so much. I should have let out a yip-yip.
Secret tunnel! Secret tunnel! Secret secret secret secret tunnel!!!
There was also some guy with a Ron Paul 2012 sign. It looked exactly how you would expect.
Save it for the Rush concert...
There was some dudebro(?)hippy guy with a pink sign saying something about how there were too many fucking hipsters at summerfest. But what exactly was anyone expecting? Also, you say that like it is a bad thing.
There are Hipsters Everywhere (?)
Most preposterous of all the people watching, besides the ugmo pda cutsie high school couples who were taking far too great advantage of this hand holding opportunity, was the mom (?) with like a 2-4 year old kid at the Weezer show later Sunday night.
Best/worst mom ever?
But who am I to judge?
Summerfest had some surprise hits, I have to say. The first day was basically dominated by Big Boi and Bun B on the hot, hot stage. I don’t know which moment was better, when Bun B asked for pot from Rice students in the audience, or when they played Bombs over Baghdad.
Hey, remember when TV and radio stations put out guidelines discouraging playing certain songs during wartime? That was weird…
Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings were not as good as I wanted them to be. I guess Doo Wop does not lend itself well to music festival atmosphere and dynamics. However, I was thoroughly impressed by the Dap Kings ability to wear shark skin suits in weather that was hotter than a junebug’s asscrack in July.
Seriously, we were sweating more than a longtailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Over at the Super Happy Fun Land stage, the Protomen were dressed as robots and appropriately sang songs about/from Megaman. Having never really played Megaman, I imagined that all the songs were about Zelda instead.
To get on stage they had to fight a guy who could shoot tornados from his hands. We later saw this man in X-Men: First Class
Appropriately, Dan and I got comic/video game character popsicles after the Protomen show.
I had a Ninja Turtle but ate it all, including the gumball eyes, before we sat back down.
In the meantime, Limb was apparently booed off the main stage. However, Beirut came out of nowhere the first day to be the awesome, brassy relaxing show that everyone needed.
Ween closed up with a set that appropriately fulfilled their description as being “all over the place.” It is difficult to put a label on their cosmic sound, but I do wish I had been dancing closer to the stage.
However, the highlight of their cosmic performance was a cover of David Bowie’s Let’s Dance.
Day 2 saw a switch from hiphop to festival dance with Yeasayer (which I listened to from the shade of a tree). Yeasayer probably wished they could have been there too, considering comments like: “This is the hottest I’ve ever been in my life.”
Indeed, according to my twitter feed, I was having a heatstroke as well.
However, about 5 collective rains cooled the place down to the extent where one could join the masses of youth in front of the main stage to watch Chromeo. While some of my peers may denigrate Chromeo as a mere Daft Punk Lite, I have to say that sometimes you want whole milk, and sometimes you want skim. And dang if the Chromeo crowd wasn’t reveling in a sea of skim. Really, Chromeo looked like they were having the time of their life up there, which made it all the more fun for all of us watching.
However, I skipped out early on Chromeo, and missed Harry and the Potters entirely, to watch Neon Indian. My face melted and also we found a bag of pot that someone had dropped in the grass, which was one of the best parts of the Neon Indian show. Not the pot, the grass. Rather than the dirt and dust of the main stage, Neon Indian performed in front of a grassy field.
There is little in life more glorious than lying in grass recently cooled by a light rain and embracing the tectonic sounds of Texas chillwave band. Of course, I got up to dance.
However, once dancefest just led to another, as Cut Copy pasted a dance beat in our collective hearts.
Of course, the big shebang was Weezer, which caused a collective flashback among the thousands of attendees, screaming lyrics like they were driving home from high school on a Friday afternoon as if this alt-rock band was at one point a teenybopper 104 KRBE hit, which it somehow was.
Also, has anyone else noticed that the Weezer logo looks just like the Wonder Woman logo?
And also the Whataburger logo?
And the whole thing ended with fireworks. Which was great because, first, fireworks are awesome. Secondly, during the Cut Copy show, we watched as guys in golf carts on the other side of the bayou were giving onlookers the ‘ol 23 skidoo. At first, we thought it was because they didn’t want people listening to the music without having paid for a ticket. In actuality, it was so they wouldn’t get blown up by the fireworks.
In an old movie, this would mean someone just did it. In Mulan, it is how Mulan defeated the Huns.
Overall, fantastic time.
There were two sidequests to Summerfest. First was seeing X-Men: First Class after the first day of summerfest. Did you know that Mutants prevented nuclear war at the Cuban Missile Crisis?
Adlai Stevenson was a mutant! I guess Wolverine was trying to do to Jean Grey what Eisenhower has been doing to this nation.
Second was the grandest of sidequests. We stopped at CVS on Holcomb and Greenbriar to get money from the Chase ATM. After making a few witty retorts about the ‘collectable’ kids sunglasses (Collect them all and save them for 10 years, when they’ll be worth millions. I don’t think that will work, remember Beanie Babies? No, not as collectables. Save them as plastic. After peak oil, the plastic in those glasses will be worth millions!) we headed out to get in the car. Suddenly, a rather cute young woman holding a clipboard tried to get our attention from across the sweltering parking lot.
She maybe kinda looked something like this? Except she had Princess Leia hair. Not the buns, the braids
Yeah, like that.
I had no idea what she wanted, but I assumed it was some sort of political thing, or she wanted a signature, or needed money, or whatever.
Apparently, as she explained, she had missed her bus and was late to church, and wanted us to give her a ride.
Personally, due to a upbringing nourished on children’s television and PSAs, I am suspicious of all strangers. However, good deeds are important and it wasn’t like we were in a rush. Mentally communicating, I yielded the decision to Dan, considering it was his car.
She opened to back seat to the car, and moved some of the trash out of the way so she could have a place to sit. As she slid over a cardboard box and a bunch of papers, it was probably at that point at which she realized that if she was going to rob us, that we had nothing of value worth robbing. It was also at that point that if she was worried about us raping her or robbing from her, that we were far too awkward to attempt anything of the sort.
Anyways, we drove her down Holcomb to the St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church, or as I refer to it: Ghost Jesus!
Jesus can shoot lightning from his hands.
At night, the lighting upon the Jesus statue casts a shadow on the giant cross in front of the building, making it look like Ghost Jesus!
Anyways, as we approached, I made a comment that dear friend Andrew Brantley’s family used to belong there but they moved because of “the pastor or deacon or whatever it is called…. priest, right? Priest.”
My Christ-o-fumbling was instantly followed by mysterious woman whose name we never asked inquiring as to whether we were Christian.
No, we’re Jewish.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Shalom”
You know when people try to speak Spanish with way too much emphasis on the accent, so rather than sounding accurate it sounds like they’re trying way too hard?
Imagine that, except the person had never heard Hebrew before.
So as we dropped her off outside the church, our passenger took the culture clash to its next level.
“Thank you! Wait, how do you say thank you in Hebrew?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know Hebrew.”
“Uh… toda raba, I think? Is that it?”
“Well toda raba.“ Again said with hilarious overemphasis on sounds that I don’t think actually exist in the words.
I suppose that ancient Greek and Roman myths are filled with stories of Gods and Goddesses dressing up as random travelers to test mortals. On the other hand, pornos often begin exactly in this manner, with a random girl walking up to two guys, asking for a “ride to church.”
Anyways, that was summerfest.
Next year at summerfest