This fate won't befall my new armadillo. Although Luce was a good animal he liked to walk the streets. He makes a great lamp though.
Oh our tired feet and it was only Friday evening! We still had much to do on this first full day of festivities. The Dave Matthews Band was next and the parade would immediately follow. Upon settling at the campsite we were approached by many "walking vendors". Anything we wanted was at our disposal without leaving home. We could hear Dave playing from the campsite and it was a great show. We just aren't the biggest Dave Matthews fans so we opted to save our energy and wait for the midnight Galactic's Krewe De Carnivale. 
The parade started from the middle section of campsites and continued up to "This Tent" bringing the attendees to Galactic's show. Bo Bice grand-marshalled the parade.Brightly festooned ladies on bicycles, intergalactic creatures, creative floats (complete with bead throwing), a Mardi Grasesque band, fire-eaters, and jugglers completed the parade. 
Along the parade route I heard an interesting conversation between two festival goers.
Perhaps we shouldn't have concerned ourselves with what time it was hence the responses we received were maybe meant to just mess with us for being so "oppressed".
Many found amusement in the mud and many had planned ahead for a situation such as this. Galloshes of every color adorned the feet of these pre-planners. Mud adorned the bodies and feet of those less fortunate.
They have one of the most talented percussionists in the south, John Whitlock, as well as a second drummer (sorry I don't remember his name). Oceana did a rendition of "The Letter" that had everyone on their feet. The chick is way kind, too!
We had to save up the energy for Widespread Panic and Trey Anastasio. We had a long night to go. We needed to refuel. We walked around the tent city vendors again and found some delicious Chinese food. Sufficiently fed we wandered back to our campsite through the mud and bodies.
People were already beginning to pass out along the roadways.
Dancers danced and stoners stoned. Everywhere we turned there were smiling faces. We met a group from Florida whom had never attended a Bonnaroo. With their preppy clothing and slack-jawed faces we could tell they were out of their element. 
There weren't many like them, but the ones that were seemed lost but learning. The ways of the jam band tend to soften even the most hardened of hearts. Trey Anastasio was up next. The former Phish guitarist had the show of shows. Joining him onstage was the Hassidic Jewish reggae/rap phenomena, Matisyahu. I was as jazzed about seeing Matisyahu's show on Sunday as much as I was anyone else, so the Saturday night appearance made my day. We retired late,but excited about what Sunday had in store.
The crew was taking down large hanging photos of the bands that had played there at past Bonnaroos. The tent was roped off so no one could enter. When they were finished the ropes were cast aside and the people piled in. We obtained great seats in front of the sound board. Matisyahu took the stage. This man was filled with so much energy he drew a crowd larger than any I had seen at the other tents (not the stages but the tents). Even though I'm not Jewish, I felt as if I were being taken to church, or synagogue as the case may be. God was definately there though.
"Chop 'em Down" had the crowd on it's feet. "King Without a Crown" had not a still body amongst us. His beat box left us stunned and his sincerity left us humbled. Light filled the tent even though the day was overcast. We must see him again. The link above is straight to his video on his website. Just pick the bandwidth and watch in amazement.
The sun broke through the clouds during "Sugar Magnolia" as if God were smiling upon us saying "You are blessed today." All good things must come to an end and this would be our finale. We wanted to get on the road before the other 100,000 people decided to do the same. We had responsibilities we had been given the opportunity to shed for a few days that we had to return to. We readorned our watches and headed for home.
We arrived Thursday afternoon at 5:30 to the massive traffic jam outside of the venue. We took our own route down, traveling highway 70 to highway 55. It took us until 8:00 to get to our camping spot. There we set up our canopy, unpacked our coolers and set off for a walk. Already things were abuzz. Vendors lined the streets of each camping section (93 sections in all each at least as large as a football field).
The vendors were selling everything from grilled cheese to shoes. There were vendors with clothing, vendors selling mixed drinks, vendors selling pipes, vendors selling stickers, bootleg shirts, hats and bandanas. It was sheer decadence. Anything you wanted was at your disposal...immediately. The cost of items outside of centeroo was reasonable ($1 beer, $2 shots, $3 sandwiches). The moment you stepped inside Centeroo, the prices soared ($5 beer, no shots, $6 sandwiches). We found it more cost effective to step out into the churning world of tent city to buy what we needed and take our chances getting it through Centeroo security. We ended Thursday full of excitement over the next days shows. We chatted with our neighbors and enjoyed a long nap.
Friday morning we awoke to "naked guy" flying a kite outside of our canopy. "Get it up, naked guy!" my husband exclaimed as the man ran past searching for the wind. After consuming our morning sustenance of eggs and coffee, visiting with more neighbors, and people watching, we took off for Alison Krauss.
Alison sings so sweetly you can fall in love at first note. Jerry Douglas,Barry Bales Ron Block, and Dan Tyminiski make up the equally impressing rest of Union Station. They carried the crowd on an early afternoon journey of hertfelt bluegrass and mood setting melody. The groggy morning ensemble awakened and began to move. As quickly as the music started, the sun peaked out to reveal a beautiful and cumulus blue sky. All was right with the world. The show peaked with the rendetion of "Man of Constant Sorrow". A crowd of 40 or so thousand moved like the sea. No one could be still.
We went in search of the chair we left to mark our spot and could not push our way close enough. The laws of physics still seemed to apply in this human sea. Too many bodies too little space. We had to stop about six rows from where we sat for Alison Krauss. We spread our poncho and had a seat...but not for long. A roar as loud as Niagra Falls erupted and the crowd was on it's feet. The music began and again the sea undulated. 
This time we moved to the soulful, Whirlitzer sounds of Greg Allman, and the dueling six-strings of Derek Trucks and Warren Haynes, "bassed" on Oteil Burbridge, and three drummers. The pinnacle of the show was a stunning rendition of "Jessica" summoning the crowd to frenzy with at least 6 diffent peaks and valleys. The show hit a second climax when Jerry Douglas, world renowned pedal-steel player and current member of Union Station, joined the band for a short time. Age has not tarnished this band. They played with the zealousness of youth and the wisdom of aged sages. Two hours later it appeared they were finished. The crowd cheered and began to chant, "Whipping Post!" "Whipping Post!". Again a roar erupted as the band filed again onto the stage. "Whipping Post" it was. We were thrown yet again into frenzy and awe. It was a beautiful thing.
The What Stage
Centeroo Entrance
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