old (2008), Uncategorized

live from pitchfork, volume one

Having missed Caribou while hunting for a rain poncho (score! at K-Mart at Milwaukee and Ashland), I arrived in time to grab a vegan chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream cone from the Chicago Soydairy stand, browse through the merchandise tents, and field a half-dozen phone calls from friends too wimpy to brave the weather to come here before settling in to watch the Fleet Foxes. So far, I am hot, my feet are muddy, and I have an aching jaw from having developed a bad habit of clenching my teeth over the past few weeks. I am trying to be amused by the little things, the first of which is realizing my affection for indie/hippie boys hasn’t abated one bit in the months that I’ve been amusing myself with a typical Chicago street-raised kid. Long hair? Beards or facial hair? Tattoos? Chuck Taylors and Levis? Yum-yum-yummy to them all. I only wish I could transport myself to Coney Island today, where one particular such boy (sans the tattoos) is attending Siren Festival. Ah, well. I’ll be there in 16 days and this will all be moot. For now, back to the music. More thoughts later. Namaste.
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