Escape to Wakarusa 2012
My drab, gray cubicle is just like all of the other ones lined side by side on the third floor of the office building. Worker bees sit, confined to their 8×8 cells as the daily noises of fingers clacking across keyboards, printers screeching to life, and the low voices of occasional conversation fill the air in a discordant symphony of sound. The lifeless computer screen stares back at me and I can slowly feel my soul ebbing away into the vast corporate machine, leaving me to ponder the meaning of it all. There must be some means of escape, some way to counteract the monotony of life spent in an office with its never ending reports and pointless meetings and jargon without meaning.
Some find their liberation on the golf course, others in civic activities, and others in the multitude of opportunities in the urban-suburban area I call home.
For me, the source of deliverance has always been through music, particularly live music. There is something about the physical and mental release of a concert that strikes a chord deep within the well of my being. It draws me in, creating an instant connection with the hundreds or thousands of other souls present, transforming us from mere individuals to a single organism, one moving and writhing about like a flock of birds on the wind. Together we become one.
For nearly two decades, dating back to that Pearl Jam show in 1993 when my life as a small-town sixteen year old was changed forever, I have found my solace in the communal concert experience. Today I’m in my mid-30’s, I have a wife and kids and a mortgage, yet I still look to those ventures in the paradise of live music to keep my spirit free. But, after all the years and the hundreds of shows, there is one experience I lack: the sense of community and oneness found in a weekend long, overnight festival.
I’ve talked about attending Wakarusa since I first became aware of its existence years ago, but due to financial constraints and the addition of children to our family unit, I have never been able to fulfill this dream. As the vestiges of my youth slip away, I still and always will grasp hold of the music that sustains me.
I ask that you consider me as your official blogger for the Wakarusa festival. It would be a dream come true.