November 9th, 2013. Winter was upon us as potential students scurried around campus knocking leafs around the greek row sidewalks with their weathered, leather boots as they toured a campus and a city that might one day become a home to them. Pretending the brisk Nashville temperatures were still fall conditions, I dressed in a thin long sleeve shirt and prepared for the night ahead of me. We had been looking forward to this day for months. American Authors at one of Nashville’s most unique, bursting of character and quite frankly small venues, The End. Thrilled to leave the lonesome cave I’d created of post break-up tears and cheesy rom coms, otherwise known as my room, my friends and I arrived at the venue minutes before the show facing a crowd of no more than 30 people. Lost in chatter and introductions a voice suddenly broke through the noise and stopped me in my tracks. Who was this girl with the powerhouse vocals strong enough to shatter the thoughts of everyone in the room and draw every eye in this small dive club to her luscious hair, small frame and impeccable style? The voice belonged to Mandy Lee, one third of the trio Misterwives hailing from New York City.
Ah, Bonnaroo 2014. As I wrote this post, I had a difficult time formulating the proper words to describe my experience. Well first of all, I’ll say when I set out for Bonnaroo on Wednesday night, I knew it’d be a great time, but I had no idea that after I got back home on Sunday, I’d be thinking I had the best weekend of my life.
My attendance a few weeks ago at the strange 4-day escape from reality called Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival marked my fifth year at the event. Early on every year the same doubtful thought runs through my mind: Why do I continue year after year to put myself through this? Sometime between my first use of the less than gleaming porta-potties and the realization that yes, I would indeed be this sweaty and disheveled for the next four days, that moment of panic comes.
I know what you’re thinking. Perhaps you’re thinking marching band is lame. When you see or hear the words “marching band,” you might think of the stereotypical “band geek” who walks around talking about cork grease and spit valves. Or maybe you think of sexually frustrated high schoolers, who brag about all the unmentionable things they did during that one time at band camp (looking at you, American Pie). But, I can promise you that marching band isn’t really like that…
…well, except maybe for that one time at band camp. Anyone who’s been in marching band knows band camp can get pretty wild for a number of reasons.
All band jokes aside, here is an explanation for why everyone should experience the Honda Battle of the Bands at some point during their lifetime.