I start the day with a bowl of cereal and Starbucks Via Brew instant coffee - unsatisfying in a different way than the French press coffee I usually make while camping. It's too early to head to the festival so I take a leisurely stroll along the beach at Lake Welch. I'm really impressed with the beauty and maintenance level of this campground. Unfortunately, it's not where I'll be staying for the Festival; just a stop along the way, so after lounging for a bit I break camp and get on my way.
After a pretty river crossing of the Hudson at the Bear Mountain Bridge I arrive at Croton Point Park and proceed to spend 30 minutes creeping my way into the festival. I set up camp and head down in time to catch Sara Watkins (of Nickel Creek). The aptly named Hudson Stage is right alongside the river. A marvelous location to hear music. I settle in and by the grace of G-d my spot soon gets shade from a nearby tree. Let me say that if I have any say in what heaven is like, it will include outdoor music festivals by the water's edge. With shade. Of course, in heaven I won't have to wait on line to use the Porta-potty, and arch-angel Dominic (those of you from the vicinity of Avenue J know to whom this refers) will be there to serve me freshly made pizza. But this was a pretty good earthly approximation of the heavenly music festival.
After about half an hour I was starting to wonder how I was ever going to find the friends I was planning to meet at the festival when up walks my friend Charles with his wife Lori and kids - a miracle, given the huge size of the festival. We settle in and are joined a bit later (aided by cell phone reconnaissance) by our other friend Sherry, her husband Ken and cousin Seth, and her mother. We proceed to spend the afternoon each cycling in and out of this base camp spot while also tending to other needs. Lori and Charles take turns entertaining their antsy kids. Sherry & crew move up closer for a while then wheel Joyce (her mom) back to their RV. I disappear to hear some bands at other stages and browse through the crafts booths. We all wind up back together to see David Amram, who is an excellent and inventive musician, but whose patter leaves something to be desired. In between songs he made negative comments about, among other things, various styles of music ("suitable for torturing prisoners"), the current state of tambourine playing, people who don't get counterpoint in music, and Western Europeans for what they did to the native Americans. Oh, and he advised the crowd not to listen to the negative people you come across in life.
During the afternoon I watched as Charles entertained his kids with balls, stuffed animals, snacks, and just about everything he could think of including little xylophone mallets that younger son Seth proceeded to clock his dad in the head with. Mid afternoon Charles and Lori ran out of parenting patience and headed down to Yonkers to rendezvous with his parents on their boat. Hopefully they'll be back tomorrow.
The rest of us split up for a while in the late afternoon. Early in the day I had spotted a felafel stand and set my mind on felafel for dinner. I understand why they had the longest line in the food area - it was really good felafel. For dessert I dug out a packet of Powerbar Energy Gels out of my backpack. This was a free sample Valerie had gotten some time ago. If your food tastes run towards jellyfish embryos with raspberry jam I'd highly recommend these things. Otherwise, maybe not so much.
I also trekked back to the campsite to take a little break. Camping next to me were two middle-aged guys, both of whom were the kind of characters that have been Joe Pesci's bread and butter for decades now. They had with them a toddler, who was clearly the child of one of them, since every time the guys were out of the kid's sight he would yell "Daaaaaaaaad!" endlessly until Daddy returned, or at least responded with, "Yo, Nick, I'm right heeere!"
After cooling off a little I headed down to the Dance stage to catch Buckwheat Zydeco, a perennial favorite of mine. I haven't mentioned my back problems here, but what kind of weird back problem do I have?? -- five minutes of sitting and I'm in pain, but an hour of dancing to zydeco and two nights sleeping in a tent are no problem.
I caught up with Sherry and crew at the main stage for Steve Earle. A very nice solo set on what turned out to be a beautiful evening. I lay down on the grass, watched the sky and let the music roll over me. I don't agree with all of his politics (a couple of songs that I feel were overly sympathetic to the so-called Palestinians) but he's undeniably a gifted singer-songwriter.
After saying goodnight to Ken and Sherry I headed back to the camping area (the RV area where they were staying is in a different section of the park) where I found a little jam session going on in the picnic pavilion. After listening for a few minutes I unsheathed my mighty accordion and joined in. At peak we had about five guitarists, three banjo players, a bongo/flautist, a harmonica player, some singers, and me. Oh, and an even weirder instrument for a while - a melodica. There was one woman who kept bringing up songs to sing. "Do you know this one It's an a cappella number." She'd then proceed to sing solo. Don't get me wrong, she had a nice voice, but she wasn't quite grokking the concept of a group jam session.
Anyway, about midnight I started to lose focus so I put the King of Instruments to bed and headed for my tent. Aided by a dose of some suspicious cough medicine (OK, it was bourbon in a reused cough medicine bottle) I was soon asleep with the goal of getting up early and kayaking in the morning.
After a pretty river crossing of the Hudson at the Bear Mountain Bridge I arrive at Croton Point Park and proceed to spend 30 minutes creeping my way into the festival. I set up camp and head down in time to catch Sara Watkins (of Nickel Creek). The aptly named Hudson Stage is right alongside the river. A marvelous location to hear music. I settle in and by the grace of G-d my spot soon gets shade from a nearby tree. Let me say that if I have any say in what heaven is like, it will include outdoor music festivals by the water's edge. With shade. Of course, in heaven I won't have to wait on line to use the Porta-potty, and arch-angel Dominic (those of you from the vicinity of Avenue J know to whom this refers) will be there to serve me freshly made pizza. But this was a pretty good earthly approximation of the heavenly music festival.
During the afternoon I watched as Charles entertained his kids with balls, stuffed animals, snacks, and just about everything he could think of including little xylophone mallets that younger son Seth proceeded to clock his dad in the head with. Mid afternoon Charles and Lori ran out of parenting patience and headed down to Yonkers to rendezvous with his parents on their boat. Hopefully they'll be back tomorrow.
The rest of us split up for a while in the late afternoon. Early in the day I had spotted a felafel stand and set my mind on felafel for dinner. I understand why they had the longest line in the food area - it was really good felafel. For dessert I dug out a packet of Powerbar Energy Gels out of my backpack. This was a free sample Valerie had gotten some time ago. If your food tastes run towards jellyfish embryos with raspberry jam I'd highly recommend these things. Otherwise, maybe not so much.
I also trekked back to the campsite to take a little break. Camping next to me were two middle-aged guys, both of whom were the kind of characters that have been Joe Pesci's bread and butter for decades now. They had with them a toddler, who was clearly the child of one of them, since every time the guys were out of the kid's sight he would yell "Daaaaaaaaad!" endlessly until Daddy returned, or at least responded with, "Yo, Nick, I'm right heeere!"
After cooling off a little I headed down to the Dance stage to catch Buckwheat Zydeco, a perennial favorite of mine. I haven't mentioned my back problems here, but what kind of weird back problem do I have?? -- five minutes of sitting and I'm in pain, but an hour of dancing to zydeco and two nights sleeping in a tent are no problem.
I caught up with Sherry and crew at the main stage for Steve Earle. A very nice solo set on what turned out to be a beautiful evening. I lay down on the grass, watched the sky and let the music roll over me. I don't agree with all of his politics (a couple of songs that I feel were overly sympathetic to the so-called Palestinians) but he's undeniably a gifted singer-songwriter.
After saying goodnight to Ken and Sherry I headed back to the camping area (the RV area where they were staying is in a different section of the park) where I found a little jam session going on in the picnic pavilion. After listening for a few minutes I unsheathed my mighty accordion and joined in. At peak we had about five guitarists, three banjo players, a bongo/flautist, a harmonica player, some singers, and me. Oh, and an even weirder instrument for a while - a melodica. There was one woman who kept bringing up songs to sing. "Do you know this one It's an a cappella number." She'd then proceed to sing solo. Don't get me wrong, she had a nice voice, but she wasn't quite grokking the concept of a group jam session.
Anyway, about midnight I started to lose focus so I put the King of Instruments to bed and headed for my tent. Aided by a dose of some suspicious cough medicine (OK, it was bourbon in a reused cough medicine bottle) I was soon asleep with the goal of getting up early and kayaking in the morning.
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