Coachella. Officially known as the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. An annual three day music festival showcasing the likes of Jack Johnson, Portishead, John Butler Trio and about a hundred other bands. Indio, California- just outside of Palm Springs. Eighty thousand people camping in hundred-degree weather with portable bathrooms and porta-potties? Oh sign ME UP!
I can smell the stench of the unbathed crowd right now.
Roger Waters is headlining this year. In case you were curious, Rage Against the Machine (alterna-metal band from the 90's- I love them) headlined last year. They kinda switched gears, huh.
Who else is going to be playing there, you ask? Does it matter? All I really need to know is that Roger Waters will be there performing Dark Side of the Moon on Sunday night. And I, along with those other 80,000 peeps, will be singing along. Loudly. And at a higher pitch.
I will be leaving here on a Monday for five days at Disneyland with my kiddies. On Friday, I'm hitchin' a ride to Indio and camping until Monday. Driving back on Monday with my best friend-heterosexual-platonic-lifemate Joe. He works with me. We are so excited for California we can hardly work, not that we get that much done anyway. (Kidding. And due to recent cutbacks, I wanted to stress just how much work Joe and I do each day. The station might shut down if we failed to perform. Seriously.)
I'm so excited I can barely type. Really. Roger Waters! Camping! Music! Stinky hippies! Happy day! ( Kidding about the stinky hippies Gross. I'm totally in to razors. And soap.)
I might need to revisit this post when I can form a coherent thought.
Oh, oh, did you know that Dark Side of the Moon spent 741 consecutive weeks on the American Billboard Album charts? Seven hundred and forty one weeks! Do you have any idea how long that is? That, my friends, is 14 YEARS! Fourteen years on the Billboard album chart! Mary, Mother of God!
Sixth best-selling album of all time! I'm gushing, I know. I'm going to go rest now.
