Hello America, Rob here.
Dave Matthews Band – Listener Supported, Disc 2. Track 8. I’m not sure why, but it’s been my personal “home stretch” song since I first picked up the album when I was sixteen. Now, driving through the night, winding through back country, and fueled by Spike, I can’t imagine amore fitting soundtrack. Deluna Fest will be the last, largest, and most important show of this tour. In order to make the show we had to leave Auburn directly after playing. We arrived in Pensacola shortly before dawn. Now, as the quiet sun rises over Pensacola Bay, those few waking hours that have passed since Auburn feel like ages.
Perhaps it’s everything we’ve been seeing and hearing from the festival. Picture messages containing seas of people crowding the beach. Numbers entering the tens of thousands. By all accounts so far, it seems to be nothing short of epic. Tomorrow (later today by now) could very well be the biggest show we play until next year’s Deluna Fest.
I’m going to get about three hours of sleep tonight. We need to consign our merchandise before we do the requisite sound checkcetera* today, so we have to make our way to the festival grounds early.
We’ll set up. We’ll get ready. Dave will stretch. I’ll play a few scales. We’ll form a circle and put our hands in the middle and say something nonsensical on the count of three, and then it will be our time.
Today, we have forty-five minutes.
We will condense our act into its most volatile form. We will thrill. We will amaze. We may or may not wear matching socks.
The sun is coming up. I need to sleep. Instead, I write words. Zack tells me that I am “the biggest gangsta in all of Pensacola.” “Don’t Drink The Water” keeps playing in my head.
But only because I want it to.
*I am exceedingly proud of myself for having coined this phrase.