Holly Gleason Bonnaroo death #vivaroo Bonnaroo 2015 Guy Clark Prada Dada The Zelda Chronicles Zelda pet loss Alex Bevan Emmylou Harris Lee Ann Womack the Wonderspaniel Aerosmith Ali Berlow Bruce Springsteen Dwight Yoakam Eddie Montgomery James Taylor John Oates Kenny Chesney Matraca Berg Patty Loveless Tom Petty Vince Gill Andy Langer Bob Dylan C. Orrico Cleveland country music Dan Baird Dawes disco Donna Summer Earl Scruggs Earth Wind & Fire Ed Helms Jackson Browne Jim James Johnny Cash Lilly Pulitzer Lou Reed Lyle Lovett Michael Stanley Mumford & Sons Music pop music punk Reggie Watts Rita Houston Rodney Crowell Ronnie Dunn Sam Bush Sherman Halsey Steve Popovich Tim McGraw Townes Van Zandt untimely death WFUV Willie Nelson " supermoderls " THE LITTLE PRINCE "Faith "The Voice 27 Club 9/11 addiction Akron Allen Brown Allison Krauss Allman Brothers Almost Famous Americana Amy Winehouse Andy Parker Ann Upchurch Anna Nicole Smith Antoine de Saint-Exupery Ashley Capps Atlanta Rhythm Section Authenticity Bangles Barbara Bush Beatles BeeGees Belle & Sebastian Big K.R.I.T. Bill Bentley Bill Johnson Billy idol Black Prairie bluegrass Bluegrass Situation Bob Seger Brenwtood Vets Britney Spears Buddy & Julie Miller Cameron Crowe Carnival Music Cat Powers Catherine Deneuve CBGBs Celebrity Culture Charlie Sexton Chris Mad Dog Russo Chris Stapleton Chris Whitley Christopher Hanna Cindy Crawford Clash Clive Davis CMA Awards CMA Duo of the Year Cobain cowpunk Cultural Icons Cyrinda Fox Dan Einstein Dan Fogelberg Dan Tyminski D'Angelo Danny Joe Brown Danny Morrison David Bowie David Byrne David Gleason Dazz Band death of a pet Del McCoury Del McCoury Band Delaney & Bonnie Dennis Kucinich Dick Clark Dignity Dolly Parton Doobies Doug Dillard driving Dylan Elegy Elle King Elton John EMI Music Eric Clapton ESQUIRE facing the inevitable Fame Whores father fathers & daughters Feank Yankovic Fellini feminism festival film Flatt + Scruggs Foals Forest Hills Stadium Frank Sinatra Funk Brothers Garth Brooks Gary Stewart Gary W Clark Gary Wells George Bush George Harrison George Jones George Michael George Strait Gerald LeVert Gil Scott-Heron Glenn O'Brien golf Grammy Awards Grammy mourning grief Guitar Town Guster heartbreak heartland hippies HITS Hot Chelle Rae Hozier I Will Always Love You iconic death integrity Jack Johnson Jackie Kennedy James Brown janet jackson Jason Aldean Jason Isbell Jeff Bates Jeff Hanna Jewly Hight Jim Halsey Jimmy Jam Jimmy Webb Joan Didion Joe Diffie Joe Ely John Bassette John Fullbright John Hiatt John Hobbs John Leland John Prine Joni Mitchell Joplin Joyce Reingold Kacey Musgraves Keith Knudsen Ken Weinstein Kentucky Headhunters killing spree KKen Weinstein Las Vegas Leon Russell Leonard Cohen Levon Helm Life Little Feat loss Lowell George Madonna Marlene Dietrich Marshall Chapman Mary Chapin Carpenter Matt and Kim Meatloaf Merle Haggard Midway Midwest Montgomery Gentry moonshiners Morrison mourning MTV music festivals Music Row My Friend Bob My Morning Jacket Naomi Campbell Nas Nathan Bell Nei Young nihilism in pop music Nile Rodgers Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Oct. 1 Of Monsters and Men old huard Nashville Palm Beach Parliament Funkedelic passion Patsi Bale Cox Patsi Cox Patti Davis Paul McCartney Paul William Phil Walden Philip Bailey places polka pop culture Preservation Hall Jazz Band press conferences Prince Princess Diana Purple Rain Radnor Lake Ramones Ray Price Rayland Baxter Reeves Gabrels Retirement Rhiannon Giddens Richard Corliss Richard Gehr Richard Pryor Robin Gibb Rock & Soul Superjam Rust Belt Ryan Miller Sarah Godinez scenes Scooter Caruso sex Shiela E smells Solange Knowles songs songwriiter songwriter spoiled rock stars Springsteen Steve Earle Steven Tyler Stevie Nicks Stevie Ray Vaughn Stevie Wonder stinky goodness Sturgill Simpson Sue Whiting Tammy Wynette Tammy Wynnette Tangiers Tattoos & Scars Tears for Fears Terry Lewis THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN The Bluegrass Situation The Bodyguard The Dreaming Fields the Hermit Club the Kentucky Headhunters the Players the Shaker Heights Country Club the things that matter the wonder spaniel thoughts Tim Hensley TIME Magazine Tin Machine tragedy Trixie Whitley Troy Gentry University of Miami Valerie Carter Verdine White Village Voice Waffle House Walker Cup Waylon Jennings Wendy Pearl WHAM! Whitney Houston Whitney Houston death Wilco Women's Western Golf Association Wonderspaniel Wu Tang Clan WVUM Ziggy Stardust

Postcards from Bonnaroo, 8: The Morning After


Just because you drink lots of water… Just because you try to be so diligent about what you eat… Just because you wear the next best thing to Zinc Oxide and a ball cap… Just because you’re sure you’re made of Kryptonite…

Somehow you end up in the Artist VIP, waiting on the Bluegrass Situations Jam with a headache to end all headaches. It’s in one jaw, and your molars. The pounding is like an appropriate enough “9 Pound Hammer” – and no amount of acupressure, yoga breathing and folding over the knees will relieve it.

But you is me, and there I am in a lawn chair, staring at the mirror ball gently spinning overhead, tossing stars across the bistro lighted compound, wincing. There is so much music to see, so many decisions to make. But I can’t get no… relief.

This is not the time, the place, the moment. Damnit.

I’ve survived plenty of forced marches through long show business days, excruciatingly early tee times for qualifiers with banquets at the end of the day and no time to get back to a hotel to nap. Those things not foie gras-fed experiences of music and nature and so many delicious people watching opportunities…

Please merciful Lord of Headaches, please, please… I’ve drunk a bunch of water, some restorative iced tea from a hippie stand… let this pass.

But it doesn’t. No, it feels like thrombosis. I don’t want to die, I just want to kill the sensation. But knowing there is much to see, I get up and wander. Maybe I can find someone with an aspirin, a motrin, something non-prescription … but pain-killing.

And there is Ali Harnell, all impossibly cute and shining, with her mom to two boys scowl, going “Are you okay?”


She starts probing, plunging a finger into my third eye. Her scowl deepens.

“ I know who can fix this…” she says, then calls over her shoulder, “Peter.”
He looks like Jack Johnson’s older shaggier quite possibly cuter brother. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

We both laugh. He doesn’t have to ask about drugs, because even in black yoga pants and a grey and black striped t-shirt, it’s obvious how straight I am.

Laying his hands on my head, he begins the cranio-sacral exploration. He scowls a little, too.

“Your plates… they’re swollen. How long have you been on your feet?”
I laugh again. This is not a man who tells people, especially music people at Bonnaroo, what to do.

“How do you feel?”
“Kinda like the little kid at the party who wants to stay up with the grown-ups,” I say more honest than I want to be. “Only I’m probably past my limit.”
“You should listen to your intuition,” he says kindly, seeing the chagrin smash my face.


Turning around, watching the devlish try to smuggle her very good glass of red wine out in her pocket, I weigh going to see R. Kelly with my friends. (And yes, I do know people out here, just trying to protect everyone but Andy Langer’s privacy)

I realize: there’s another day.

Sadly, I walk down the dirt road to my car. I hate leaving. I feel awful.

Even the Buddha head fountain at the Quality Inn seems to look ruefully at me as I pull back in, and head the mechanical buzz of the in-room air conditioner.  I have no choice, as I peel the damp clothes off my body, everything aching.

Seventy-five minutes later, my feverish sleep is interrupted by the violent need to throw up. Yes, over and over. Whether it’s too much sun, or not enough water, something tinged at the pizza place where the pesto/potato/carmelized onion/feta pizza came from, I am on my knees.

The Lord of Headaches delivered. Just not in the way I’d intended. Ahhhhh, festivals. The pitfalls remain, no matter how careful you might be.


And walking in the Starbucks when I finally rise far later than I’d intended, I am not alone. The energy level has leveled out, the buzz is the palest white noise. People are getting their coffees, with the two extra shots, milling about imperceptibly.

They’ve not hit their threshold, but they’re not rocking either.

Bonnaroo Day 4 is going to be a bit more restrained. The acts every bit as good, but perhaps the throng a little weaker for the wear. Still, we’re here for the music, and the music it is!
Who lets an ab workout to end all ab workouts stop them?