Saturday, August 05, 2006
The result? Youth went nuts without us in the front row. We bounced a bit and pretended the buzzing in our ears from the billion-decibel feedback loops wasn't annoying us.
I texted Johnny: It's too loud. We're too old.
We pushed out of the crowd and walked the half-mile to the other stage, pushing against the masses of stoned teenagers as they flocked to see Death Cab for Cutie.
We were part of the (significantly smaller) crowd of old people and hippies to see Ween, a classic fave from my college days. Johnny and I knew an embarassing number of lyrics and secretly (or not so secretly) proclaiming this to be the icing on our lolapalooza cupcakes.