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After the day before, this was the day we decided to take it easy. Matty ([livejournal.com profile] mattycub) already had a bitchin' cold, and the rest of us were totally wiped out by the day before. I think we woke up around 11, and took our time moving. Sure, there were bands we wanted to see, but driving ourselves further into the ground wasn't as attractive. The sun had already been up for a few hours, and the high was to be 97 degrees.

The gang assembled, and Matty, Jeff ([livejournal.com profile] jeffbear63), Scott ([livejournal.com profile] xkot), Sean ([livejournal.com profile] schnitz_mi), Owen ([livejournal.com profile] murphy) and Chris ([livejournal.com profile] oakleycub) piled into cars an we went down the road for lunch at Furrs Cafeteria. Despite my feelings about older-skewing food places, it was a good choice to get something for everyone, quickly. Still, despite the smarter choices people could make, there was an awful lot of starches consumed.

We still needed some supplies for the day, and the only place we really saw was a Wal-Mart. Today was really taking a white-trash turn. Still, I didn't know where a Target, or much else was nearby, so we held our collective noses and went for it. Who knew that Wal-Mart didn't have 1 liter bottles of water? Some of us picked up some gallon jugs of water, but we were unsure if they would be allowed in. Sean found some ground cover, since there wasn't a true stadium blanket to be found in the place. Still, they were some of the best purchases of the weekend. That, plus the collapsable chairs I had in the trunk really made days two and three much, much more bearable.



We left Matty and Jeff at the hotel for some more rest, and made our way to Parking Garage "Q", and then on the shuttles out to the park. Today I had shorts on, my thighs still trying to recover from yesterday's chaffing. I needed water before we even got off the bus.

I definitely did better this day, making sure to get water when I needed it. Still, I was covered with the SPF 48 secret blend. I was impressed that it didn't come off with the sweating. We got into the park and were listening to the end of the set for the Old 97's. I would have liked to have heard more, but it was already time to get the camp we'd accumulated set up for Howie Day. We put down the ground cover sheets, and set up the chairs and threw out the backpacks and water. One problem with the festival was that you really needed to pick your favorites and camp for them to be able to actually see them. You missed out discovering other acts waiting for the ones you really wanted to hear.

Howie Day was really fantastic. He didn't rock out, but he did impress with good songwriting and a unique use of foot pedals to create loops of everything he did, building percussion, rhythm and other layers on his acoustic guitar. Chris and I had seen him open for Barenaked Ladies, but I'll admit that I didn't pay that much attention to him then. Chris apparently did, and he was praising him to the other members of our group.

Modest Mouse was next, but we decided to stay camped at the stage we were at to be ready for My Morning Jacket. It was a good thing too, as Modest Mouse was on the Cingular stage with it's awful sound quality. It really ruined the sound of a lot of bands. People talked, people wandered off on errands as I held fort in a chair. By the time Matty and Jeff arrived, My Morning Jacket was about to go on, the hill had filled again, and some of our stragglers were having a hard time seeing us. Some of the more well versed festival goers had purchased large flag poles. Many of them were decorated in bizarre fashion. one that we all loved had a Barbie doll on it, others were decked with feather boas, tree branches, and more than one Nemo to find.

Next time, we'll have to put out a bear flag, just to see what we can attract. We know there were a few other bears out there...there were some glances. Other thoughts for our pole included a Fisher Price Rescue Hero, and a Live Journal logo.

My Morning Jacket rocked the house. Certainly the most energetic set, which was amazing for the heat of the afternoon, and all of the hair that band had. Matty and Owen expected good things, but even they were impressed.

My day was pretty much over. The rest of the scheduled acts were not anything I had to see, so I was very open to just trying a few new things. We walked past Dashboard Confessional, the radio hit act of the day, and went to set up camp for Trey Anastasio. It was apparently jam-band heaven for people, and there was people of all ages around (mostly white, though). Chris and I were hungry, so it was time to start exploring.

We heard some of Trey's first set, and wandered to the SBC tent were the internet connection was, and we geeked out and posted. geez. We got a bite to eat, and as the sun went down, Trey's first set ended. At the food court a new band was just coming on, Reckless Kelly-a local Austin band. Chris and I were enchanted and went closer to the stage. Chris remembered that he had one of the ground cover sheets in his backpacks, and he put it down. Although we were part of the crowd, we were away from our group, and it was a nice chance to just be with Chris.

After a couple of stolen kisses, I laid out on the sheet and watched the few stars you could see. They aren't so big and bright deep in the heart of Texas cities, but still there were a few visible in the dark park. I was relaxed, and happy happy just to be here listening to the western-tinged swing. The band continued by covering both the Beatles and the Police...two of my favorites.

After that set of bliss, we ran back to Trey's second set, but couldn't find the others who had moved up. We swam through the smell of pot and the noodle-body dancers trying to find the group. The large crowd made me uncomfortable and cranky, so we got out. What I couldn't understand was what was making Trey's set rock jam, and not Jazz. Truly it was just a jazz concert under another name. Maybe there was a little difference in rhythm, but the improvisation, and the patterns from instrument to instrument seemed like anything else you'd see in a jazz club - with lazy dancing.

Sean had called, making a difficult cell-phone connection. With so many people in the park, and with them all trying to call their friends, either in the park or out, it was hard to connect out a cell. Sean went over to see the reunited Pixies. We headed that way, and sat in some chairs at the now closed wine-tasting booth, where we could see the tag-a-tot tent where all of us lost children would eventually come to. The Pixies also tried valiantly, but the stage of the dammed also prevented them from having the best effort. The moved quickly through several songs, and ended abruptly. Trey, heard loudly from the other side of the park, noodled on.

Sean showed up first, then the rest of the crowd came from the green-tinged air and we headed for the shuttles. Now the line was long...and we had to go find the end. We walked, and walked, and walked, trying to come up with mildly entertaining banter. We were almost out of the back side of the park before we got to the end of the line, and then had to tromp all the way back to the other side to meet the busses. Longest line of the whole festival.

While on the bus, there occurred a strange moment between the underaged hippy-wannabes and Sean. I have a whole new love of tax-fee commerce. Eventually, we made it back to the hotel.

Since it was a lighter day, I thought we'd go out to eat, but no one but I was up for more than snacking. They were all lucky as Will ([livejournal.com profile] brazosbear) saved the day, bringing in Cokes and chips. It was quite out of the blue, and a great gesture on his part. Still, I needed to get out, and i sheepishly sneaked away to go get a hamburger, before I made a scene. Driving calmed me down, and a Wendy's double made me happy. It was a better day, but not one without it's stressors, and there was still one more long day to go.

On Day Three; Mariachi horns, Sleepy Rock and Roll, and the sound of a mini-muffin.

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