There were bands all weekend.

 
Frank even wrote a poem about it. Yes, HUSBAND Frank. I'm pretty sure he didn't expect me to post it, but I really liked it, so tough. This is it:


POWER OF MUSIC
Festival grass flattened by the masses
flip flops crisscross a field of blankets
Beer putting smiles on everyone's face
Strangers share music then go on their way

Contrast of trees against glass buildings
Gravel dust and mud corralled in by asphalt
Tattoos matching tee shirts reinforce the commitment
Visual advertisments for audible preferences

Two dance in a puddle as if they're alone
Hundreds look on observing the show
Arms pump skyward in time with the beat
Bare legs point downward to shuffling feet

So many different bands, so many different sounds
a patchwork of blankets covering the ground
Some listen intently, only background for some
Conversations begin with where are you from?

Stage lights blink fast, unnatural colors
Revealing other faces just for a moment
Crunchy guitar sounds cut the summer air
The drummer sings wildly; uncontrollable hair

Thousands sing lyrics from the same famous song
Sweaty guys and dirty girls, they all get along
The stage is the hub of harmony, not even one fight
Punctuated with fireworks in the sky of the night

Plastic monoliths lined up in a row
Indescribable smell as they all overflow
Lines form to enter the nickname named john
Their importance increases as the night time wears on

At the end of the day, thousands clear out
Empty cups and lost sandals scattered about
Recycling signs abound, most intentions are good
The field sprouts with plastic, they misunderstood

End of night exit, the cops shut the streets
The army marches out in their souvenir tees
Walking and talking about who was their favorite
Amazing experience, take time to savor it