Should I Pardon Rock the Garden?

22 Jun

While my crew of friends was chain smoking, and I was working on what would unfold to be the worst hangover of my life, I couldn’t help but make note of the staggering number of cute hipster babies mulling about in oversized noise-eliminating headphones. I was relieved to see that these children, like me, seemed to be having a ball staring at all of the strange people that I can apparently categorize as “Current fans.”

Ladies and gents, if you have not yet attended a Current-sponsored event, or Too Much Love (which, god willing, you have not known the likes of since the tender age of 18), I IMPLORE you to revisit the strange, ragtag, petri dish, zeitgeist of the scene! Oh, the joy of paying eight dollars for a lemonade, if only to pour cheap vodka in it on the sly as you watch a grandmother drop her visor next to a tatted-up Seward native who is absentmindedly ashing on top of a child’s poncho-caped head.

(Funny aside: I once during a visit to the Holocaust museum in D.C. had the pleasure of watching a person THROW UP in the poncho they were WEARING by ingeniously pulling the front skirt of it forward into an apron-like pouch)

Other Highlights of Rock the Garden:

  • Neko Case sucking it up (The Star Tribune even went so far as to suggest that the singer’s performance was ‘slumber-instilling’ and, adding insult to injury, complained that she “talked to much”)
  • A whole lot of people seeming very unenthused until the last act
  • A whole lot of people still seeming unenthused during the last act (they were apparently not as skilled at improvisational drinking)
  • Ubiquitous hippie/hipster-types REMOVING THEIR SHOES and spreading their toes among the garbage, mud, and unidentifiable clumps that constituted the Walker sculpture garden lawn. Hello—we’re STILL IN THE CITY, PEOPLE!
  • Mark and Annie Van Cleve scoring amazing (and free) VIP passes to the event which facilitated my personal consumption of much Summit and kobe burgers—hellllllsssss yeah!
  • Sunglass wearing at night

So, next year when the date’s approaching and you find yourself locked in the annual debate over whether or not to attend RTG (as the in-the-know are calling it), I’d suggest you just remember what you’ve learned today and GO FOR IT, BRO.

Do tell.

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