Monthly Archives: August 2011

Outside Lands 2011 Day One!

Posted by Refuse Routine on

A beautiful day for a festival indeed! Went to bed late, wake up at 9, festival started at 12, had other people in our party going, still hadn’t dropped off the kids… I knew we were going to be late! Days leading up to this day much debate was had whether we should even go, much debate was had about just selling our tickets and pocketing the money. Original plan of getting a hotel a week before the actual festival went down the shitter quick. Everything was booked, nice hotels, crap hotels, bed & breakfasts’, and if it wasn’t booked it was outrageously priced! Luckily we were able to hitch a ride with some good friends back and forth each day.

As much as I promised myself that we were going to get there early and get our money’s worth, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I’m not a young buck no more and I have already learned the hard way that three straight days of walking, drinking, sweating, hiking, drinking, eating, laughing, chasing, dancing, screaming, shoving, pushing is not really something I can do so easily anymore was a harsh reality that sunk in pretty quick. We finally made it to the meeting point and made our ritual ‘tall-can’ stop at the neighborhood liquor store and I found myself getting super antsy about missing Collie Buddz. He was coming on early and I felt it in my gut that between the drinking which would definitely lead to a piss break, parking, traffic and all that jazz we weren’t gonna catch his set. We started the back seat sippen and as San Francisco came into view, I felt privileged to live so close to a place so beautifully historic and captivating.

We arrive just in time and by just in time I mean BARELY in time to see Foster The People. After all the indulging we did in the back seat we were seconds away from walking around in piss the whole day. We found release and comfort in a small enchanted meadow right off the walkway in beautiful Golden Gate Park. We made it to the front and luckily we walked into the area where Foster The People were playing, the only band my oldest child said she would want to see at a concert. I told her what about Justin Bieber, Hannah Montana, Selena Gomez… she looked at me as if I were crazy and at that moment I felt like a good parent.

Approaching the inside of the festival was absolute insanity. So many people. We manage to get to the semi-front of the stage and heard some songs, still felt dizzy from all the craziness around me and by craziness I mean fields and fields of people. Everyone happy, everyone loving the music, the vibe of that crowd was awesome to say the least. Way to see a crowd go crazy when the band on stage plays the song everyone’s been waiting for. ‘Pumped Up Kicks’ played and I was happy we hadn’t missed it.

Our next mission was MGMT. I say mission because from one stage to the next that’s exactly what it was. A journey, an adventure. Blink for one second and you could literally lose the people you are with. We somehow made it all 4 to the stage where they were playing at. Seen a pretty girl dancing asked her if she would take pictures for us, luckily she agreed… MGMT. Want me to be honest, the crowd was large, we got there late, I was intoxicated fighting the urge to go pee again and frankly I wanted to hear Electric Feel & Kids. I heard Electric Feel as we walked cautiously over to the Heineken Dome for some Miguel Migs action. A local DJ for sure, but hey I wanted to put my dancing shoes on. We get in the crowded dome and the music, atmosphere, vibe is totally party and totally welcoming. Stayed there for about 30 minutes, walked out the dome and it was still daytime! The horror! In the 30 minutes spent in that dome I thought the night had surely found it’s way.

Did some major walking after that. Friends went to Best Coast, which I hear was pretty fucken awesome, and I knew I wanted to see Big Boi but had heard on the news that Daddy Fat Sacks got locked up down south a few days prior I thought he wasn’t going to show and since I was a small fish in a huge ass pond I stayed lost right by the Sutro Stage where my girl Erykah tore that shit UP! Dave Chappelle showed up with Big Boi. I was kinda pissed at myself for being a four eyed drunk that couldn’t read the map too well. Not really much I can say about Erykah that the public doesn’t and shouldn’t already know. Seeing her little ass (and I don’t mean her ass is little) on that stage, the presence she holds there, the vibe, her realness, her swagger, her singing… she is hood and I can dig it. Doing live beats on the stage is her thing, and she does it well. We weren’t all agreeing on who we should split our last hour there with. Erykah or Best Coast. I am glad I got to see Erykah. Having seen her before I knew she was going to be good. She got in the crowd cause she wanted to ‘feel em right quick’. She didn’t end with Tyrone which I am kinda glad she didn’t cause that song, although a classic, can be annoying sometimes. She was dj’ing somewhere later that night but we had to take the long way back to EsJay….

 

Saturday’s adventure coming soon!

Enjoy…

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

      

     

     


 

Refuse Routine!

Posted by Refuse Routine on

‘THE ONLY PLACE SUCCESS COMES BEFORE WORK IS IN THE DICTIONARY!’

Revising, rewriting, re-editing, for something I know has potential and means a lot to me is unsettling, nerve wrecking, stress inducing type of college essay shit I haven’t really felt since those wee years of the 21st century and almost makes me want to quit and just play Bejeweled Blitz instead. But seven years after dropping out I find myself alongside a group of individuals feeling more motivated and inspired to be something “when I grow up”. To find my niche in a world where one isn’t mandatory and not just twiddle my thumbs as I wait to grow out of my training bra.

Repetitive life can have a negative effect on people. Work, kids, money or lack thereof can most definitely have a counter-productive effect on people. Routine can play a huge role in the outcome of one’s artistic demise. Busting your ass all day at work the last thing on your mind when you get home is ‘what are you going to do for you now’ that doesn’t include plopping yourself in front of some sort of screen ending in hours of ‘zombie-mode’. You get caught up in your habitual and often times mediocre tasks that before you know it you are pushing thirty and still haven’t painted that thirsty canvas, sewed that fabulous dress, took that breath-taking picture, or lost that burdensome weight.

Rusty, untrained, unrefined, unpolished, scared of rejection, it’s been too long, afraid of criticism, kids, spouses, the boob tube, that too-much-to-do-today-I’ll-do-it-tomorrow bullshit we have all told ourselves in one form or another simply to get out of what we know must be done. All relentless excuses, each one a self-imposed obstacle we place in front of ourselves. Reckless defective traits we’ve developed that essentially lead to a road paved in self-torture, self-doubt, and the evil of all evils: REGRET!

Reluctantly, you begin to wonder when in the hell your road turned?  When did you lose sight of what you wanted from life? What you wanted to be when you grew up? The things you wanted to see, the people you wanted to meet, the person you wanted to be, the things you wanted to create, the trees you wanted to climb.

Rehashing familiar feelings of disgrace and reproach when you switch on the light and finally wake the fuck up and stop living in the shadows of your youth; a time when sure success was more prominent, but the lackluster of immaturity held you back. A once formatted adolescent now morphed into a stagnant adult. That detour you took on your path to advancement lead you straight to a dead end that slowly sucked you deeper into its seductive abyss of procrastination and laziness.

Realizing what it takes to free your imprisoned mind of these types of slumps can take forever and each one must discover that on their own. Everyone has their own choice “poison” they let murder their productive inner-self. What I am sure of is once that passion is reignited and you regain a hold of yourself and finally measure up to the greatness your mother and your peers have always said you were the feeling is quite euphoric.

Really in the end we are our own worst enemies. No one told you to watch that show, to sleep in late, or not leave your house. So stop indulging in self-destructive arguments with that fat lazy bastard “flourishing” on that filthy couch in your subliminal conscious. Quit being complacent and stop confusing frivolous behavior with “taking-your-time”. It’s time to finally set your alarm clock and queue the coffee pot you Sleeping Giant. Reveal to the world what you have been so selfishly hoarding to yourself. Commit to making it real, making people feel you, remember you and respect you. Stand up to those unworthy electronics and get a grip on life and time while your fingers are still able to grasp.