Best weekend of my life:

Coachella 2005

Wow. I mean wow. I know I say that word too much but hell . . wow. We saw 24 shows in 50 hours. What follows is a complete list of those bands:


Friday night:
The Fame at Flaherty’s in Palm Springs

Saturday:
Buck 65
k-os
The Raveonnettes
Razorlight
Wilco*
Weezer
Four Tet
Bloc Party*
Chemical Brothers
Spoon
Coldplay

Sunday:
Shout Out Louds*
Sloan*
Sixtoo*
M.I.A.*
The Futureheads
Tegan & Sara
The Arcade Fire*
New Order
Pinback
British Sea Power
The Faint*
Bright Eyes

* denotes wicked good

Things to note:


(1) Camping
I’ve never been a happy camper---literally. My friends and I have a deal wherein they go camping and make sure to invite me, notwithstanding my guaranteed no. The whole thing is so that I don’t feel un-invited (or dun-vited, as I’ve been saying ever since I started writing this post). Anyways. At the last minute our plan to camp at Lake Cahuilla fell through and we had neither plan nor option until there was Manny!

Manny is a schoolteacher who lives literally across the street from the Empire Polo Field where Coachella is held. He has a ranch and a family and opened the place up to campers in an effort to raise money to send his students to Space Camp! He and his wife provided showers, coffee in the morning, water, barbecue and firewood, plus round-the-clock security and friendly talk. It was transformative. There ended up being only seven of us campers in total, three of whom we found out were from Toronto as well.

When I grow up I want to have my own ranch just like Manny.



(2) On the subject of Joy
There was a lot of it running through the event. Yeah it was busy and like any concert where you get a little annoyed by the sweaty guy who insists on dancing next to you with his shirt off or the person who thinks grinding against you is also called dancing. But then again, how can you ever have a problem with seeing so much music in the Palm Desert of all places, stoned on sunshine and Pogos and this shocking beauty that only Beben from the Shout Out Louds gets to call her own? (You don’t like that? What exactly is wrong with you?)


(3) Some kind of unity
Mason saw an Asian guy wearing a shirt that said, “Everyone Loves an Irish Boy.” And an Irish looking guy wearing a shirt that said, “Everyone Loves an Asian Boy.” I picture the two meeting, Asian boy in Asian shirt and Irish boy in Irish shirt. The former is holding a $7 “panini.” The latter a stick of unidentified $5 meat. They stop two paces from one another. They point at the other’s shirt, then his face, then wordlessly remove the garments, switch, and walk in opposite directions.

I’m standing there with my $7 Amstel light, weeping, and am overheard to utter, “so this is what it’s like when doves cry.”

(4) Boobs a-plenty
There is now a female equivalent of the Mullet, but it is much much sweeter and an equivalent only in the theoretical (and also paradoxical), “business on the bottom, party on the top.” Bikini top and jeans. Or bikini top and skirt. Or bikini top and sarong. Or bikini top and shorts. My god, how many great bikini tops I saw. And great tummies. Present company excluded. I kept my top on but it was an act of solidarity that I wore a sweet brown triangle top underneath.

(5) Three course meal, big screen TV, hobo couture, etc. etc.
We flew El Al (the Israeli airline) there and back. El Al offers a good Toronto/L.A. deal. And ridiculous security. This is not my first experience with El Al. By the time we were ready to board going home I was about to tear out my hair and never ever fly this airline again. And then when we went to board, the man who had checked me in and looked at my passport said, “here’s your birthday present Ms. Balaban. You and your friend are flying business class.” And the weary rocked out travellers with grit under their fingernails and colonies in their hair drank champagne and Cointreau aaaaall the way home.

Thanks to my wonderful family who gave me a birthday welcome-home even when I thought things wouldn’t get any better.

And to the one friend thoughtful enough to call and say Happy Birthday, I say Krista you are a Queen among Hobos. The good kind.