Anytime you head to a music festival, you have to make sure that you have everything you need: food, water, camping equipment, a little cash, camera/laptop (for press purposes) and roadside assistance. Oh wait, I am getting a little ahead of myself on the roadside assistance. The trip from Lexington, KY to Ozark, AR is about 11 hours one way, so not for the faint of heart in one scoop. The plan: leave Lexington around 7 PM and drive straight to get to the site early in the morning. So far, so good... until about 45 min into the drive, about to get on Bluegrass Parkway, I get that funny feeling all of us have had from time to time. I forgot something important. This time it was the backpack with all of my media gear: laptop, pens, paper, schedule of interviews, etc. Not something I could just leave behind. Since I had not reached the point of no return, I backtrack for the backpack. This set back my plan of arrival a couple of hours. The new plan: drive to Memphis, crash for a few hours, then continue down the road to Ozark, AR. Make it to Memphis, safe and sound. Zzz... Wake up, hit the shower, grab some grub for breakfast and back on the road...
Let me tell you, I-40W was/is littered with rubber from blown big rig truck tires. Usually, this is not an issue: bob and weave just like Ali used to. In any case, I am cruising along in Blue Black Jack, my old school Saab and Mulberry Mountain is only about 50 miles away at this point. Uh oh... a piece of rubber that cannot be avoided, due to someone riding on my side in the slow lane as I was trying to pass them. The dilemma: hit the piece of tire and take whatever happens, or pull some Hollywood driving techniques at 75 MPH. Tough choice, but I decide to take on the rubber. Oops... should have channeled my inner James Bond or Jason Bourne. As soon as I hit the rubber, I could smell the fumes pouring out of my tank and my car started to slow down. Obviously, not a good situation. As I make my way to the side of the road, I turn off the car, let it sit for a few minutes and then try to restart it. Note to all who are reading: NEVER DO THIS EVER! Luckily, my stupidity didn't cost me my life as each rev I was leaking fuel. Upon further inspection, I broke my fuel line. Any little spark or fuel hitting a hot piece of the car could have resulted in a flame up or worse. Again, thank God I have survived this point. Good thing I have AT&T Roadside Assistance... right? BUZZ! Wrong! Supposedly, I was too honest by telling them I hit a piece of roadside debris. Roadside debris = roadside assistance? Not according to the terms of service, which I didn't know verbatim. So, you could blame me for being prepared with roadside assistance that I had paid into for over 3 years with the notion that if poo hits the fan, I am covered. They were nice enough to offer calling assistance for me, at my own expense. Fortunately, the iPhone comes in handy here, looking up local towing services and auto repair shops for the nearest town, Russellville, AR. It was a blessing to break down only 10 miles from a town that has some commerce, which is not usually the case breaking down on the interstate. About 90 min on the side of the road, Wayne's Towing comes to pick me up and drag me into town. They drop me off at Anderson's Automotive, run by Bob Anderson. For all that live close to Russellville, AR, you should take any auto work to this shop. They are incredibly nice, affordable and extremely good at what they do. As they are fully accessing the damage and working on the repairs, I attempt to tell the world about what's going on via Facebook. I was able to post one status update, then the iPhone cycles off. Ok, hard reset, watch the Apple logo and we are back in business. Not so fast, my friend. If you are familiar with the term: trouble comes in twos and threes, this was the case. I don't know where I am officially on the trouble scale, though it seems like its just one thing after another...
Once the crew was done with Blue Black Jack, I get on the road to the nearest AT&T store (again, counting my blessings that Russellville has it going on) The diagnosis: the hard drive had crashed. Really? It's like that? Yep, it is. Once I get the new phone, I get back on the road to Wakarusa, some 5 1/2 hours later. Though I am lucky to be alive and grateful for all of the kind people in Russellville, I miss my first 6 interviews: Grace Potter, Minus The Bear, Truth and Salvage Co., Those Darlins, Carrie Rodriguez and Kinetix. That is the downside of it all. Good thing music helps take your cares away. As soon as I got to the festival, I instantly felt at ease and some peace with what had just happened. Along with the gorgeous drive on the site location with the Ozark National Forest as the back drop, the atmosphere on the mountain was welcoming and comforting. Check in, set up camp and on to the festival, where Michael Franti was starting to rock the stage.
A couple of days later, I had the highlight of the festival. While hanging out with the crew from Yo Mama's Big Fat Booty Band (awesome band, BTW) I was in the artist hospitality area and see Ben Harper immediately after his set. He was hanging with someone and I didn't have an interview planned, but I have wanted to meet Ben Harper for years. What to do, what to do? HOORAY BEER! I grab a beer and approach by saying, "Great set man! Here's a beer as I know you were headed that way. It's a pale ale, they are out of wheat right now" He replies with, "Thanks a lot man, I actually prefer pale ale anyway. I am Ben, thanks so much" and extends his hand. From almost burning in a blaze of glory in Arkansas to meeting one of my most favorite musicians of all time, I would say that I am blessed. This is what keeps me going to music festivals, the music brings you home.
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