Bonnaroo, You’re A Beautiful Beast

Morning-after thoughts from a first timer

By Leora Katz

As if I can even begin to process this weekend yet. It’s 11:50am on Monday and I’m sitting on a plane waiting to depart Nashville. I usually find all-things plane travel pretty terrifying on a bacteria level, but I’ve felt like a queen since walking through those airport doors. Shiny surfaces, dry, cushioned seats, air I can breathe, and lasting protection from that scorching hot fireball in the sky.

My hair still feels damp from last night’s humidity, I can feel the farm dust stuck to my still-sweaty skin, and my outfit would be more appropriate on a 9-year-old boy. I also haven’t slept in about 26 hours, don’t recall eating a real meal since Friday, and am thrilled I don’t have the energy to care how I smell because there’s no way it’s okay.

Truth be told, I wouldn’t go anywhere near myself if I was anyone but me.

Well Bonnaroo, you’re a beast. The last on my US music festival bucket list and you’ve proven yourself to be like no other. You’re certainly not easy or for the faint of heart. In fact, those who care at all about guaranteed showers, comfortable sleeps, casual strolls, or quinoa bowls should stay far, far away from you.

But, for those who can let all that go, roll with the many punches, and do whatever it takes to survive even when the mere thought of standing up in the heat seems like an overwhelming obstacle… do it.

Do it because it’s weird and wacky, but wonderfully accepting. Do it because it’s hard and dirty, but so very full of love. Do it because you’ll find space to do you while letting everyone else do them, and when everyone’s just living and being — well, it’s beautiful.

Do Bonnaroo because it’s in the South, and it’s a different world down here. If you’ve never spent time immersed in this type of weather watching people stir human-sized buckets of steaming crawfish and smiling in that huge way you only find inside the warm, beating heart of Southern hospitality, you need to feel it all.

And I promise if you come you won’t find exactly what you’ve set out for, but you will find high-fives and beaming faces and a ton of people who are happy to hop around from one bit of shade to another basking in every moment of their most beloved weekend of the year.

Go to Bonnaroo because the people who have been coming here forever want you to.

This isn’t one of those “Oh I’ve been here 12 times and because of that I’m better than you” kinda vibes. It’s more like a “No way! It’s your fist time?! That’s so awesome — are you having fun? It’s hot, right? Where are you from? What’s your name? Wow, that’s a nice name. Welcome! And happy roo! And you’re amazing! And I love you! [insert sweaty, dirty high five here]” kinda vibes.

Yea, I had that conversation approximately 600 times this weekend and every instance felt like the nicest and most genuine exchange I’ve ever had.

In retrospect, I’ve never been in a place where so many of the conversations — both had and overheard — were about how much the people speaking love said place. And that type of intentional positivity radiates from every inch of the farm, forming a halo of happiness you can’t help but feel.

In other words: do it.