Bonnaroo.
The word “Bonnaroo,”—popularized by New Orleans R&B giant Dr. John with his 1974 album “Desitively Bonnaroo,”—is a Cajun slang word meaning “a really good time.”
Those that have a vague, or at least, an appreciative understanding – let me say this: Wow.
What an amazing, life-changing, all-encompassing, beautiful, fulfilling experience. And if you haven’t gone, make plans now for 2010. You won’t regret it.
This was my 3rd Bonnaroo, and certainly not my last. What started as a kinda dare, turned into a fascination and evolved into a deep and abiding love for 4 days of stepping outside of the box. Bonnaroo is all that and more.
People of all ages, races and dispositions come to the 700-acre farm in Tennessee. To name a few: There are mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, young married couples with their newborns, urban hippies wanting to reconnect with the earth, college students on a mission, throwbacks to a simpler time, old and withered hangers-on, and thirty-something wannabes desperately holding onto youth.
Can ya tell which catagory I’m in? 
Truth be told, there is no judgement at Bonnaroo. I think that’s part of my admiration for the event. People from all over the world gather on one plot of land, in the middle of nowhere, to just chill. Listen to music. Be happy. And dance, dance, dance.
So, after 3 1/2 hour drive, Jeremy and I pulled up in line. After a 4 hour wait we were on the farm and setting up camp. In the pouring, thundering, lighting, insane wind storm that had oh, so perfect timing.
But we survived, and staked everything down really well – then we went on to explore Centeroo.
This was Jeremy’s first time, and feeling like an old pro – I enjoyed his reaction to the organized chaos that ensued. Bonnaroo is good at lots of things – but everything at once? Not so much.
I’ve never gotten into Centeroo so early on a Thursday before. We setup in record time, despite the rain (which had subsided at this point). We checked out Alberta Cross (love them!), then wandered aimlessly for a bit, soaking it all in.
There’s a lot of ground of cover, so many stages and tents and attractions, it can be overwhelming. But we, like most of the festival-goers, just let it wash over us. In lovely, happy waves of relaxation. Bonnaroo is relaxing: there are no rules per se, there is nowhere that you HAVE to be, there is no curfew or suppose-to’s.
There is only what you WANT at that moment. And every moment is followed by the next, and the next, and the next. And the next moment found us wandering around the camps, in the pouring rain, looking for our camp at 1am. Lost and wet and tired – we eventually found it (with a few impatient words exchanged), but a good nights sleep in a well-sealed tent on a firmly puffed air mattress made it all better.
Friday was muddy and cool at first, and turned into a sunshine-filled, free for all extravaganza of music. We found breakfast burritos and back into centeroo for more fun.
We saw about 23 bands in 4 days. And despite my best efforts, I didn’t see everyone I wanted to. It wears on you – the Bonnaroo. It becomes like a living entity that you have to feed and care for and respect while you’re there. It’s bigger than all of us. Bigger than my imagination, and yet it is real.
And that makes me so, so very happy.
I have a thousand and one intimate and personal stories about this year’s event, but it’s hard to describe them all. It’s difficult to tell someone what it’s like. It’s akin to when I hear about childbirth, as much as I want to relate, I really can’t. And if you haven’t gone, and I try to describe it, it all seems so… so… lacking.
So, I urge all good, fun-loving, music-minded people to jump and go to bonnaroo. At least once What do you have to lose?
