6.24.01

Felt like things got off on the wrong foot. John and Maureen at my house and I was still walking things to my car, still stuffing things into bags and grabbing at items as I remembered to bring them (and later I would remember that I forgot much stuff and have to stop and buy it or go without—try to go without). So they waited and then we left and I guess being hurried already, and I guess because the music Andrew gave me was too good, I took off out of there faster than Maureen's little red car and lost them eventually though stopping and lingering and not seeing them so just getting back in and going fast fast fast to George. Found them again among the line of cars filing into the campground. We walked in together and ran into John's friend Hubie and Hubie's friend Andrea waiting in line at a cluster of HoneyBuckets. Together we perched high on the hill, which was too far away from the stage for me but for some reason I couldn't get myself to move so watched the concert from there and watched Thom Yorke unlikely animated, the highlight being his little spasm dance about halfway through. It ended short I thought, and without Fake Plastic Trees. But otherwise they played a lot of stuff from The Bends on up through Amnesiac and I knew each song very well which surprised me, reminded me of countless hours lying on the hardwood floor of my living room this past winter when Radiohead was only one of a few bands that sat with the mood, that numbed sadness that wouldn't go anywhere. It reminds me of my apartment and not the dwelling in Korea, which it could've, and I liked it better that it was mine. So a long walk back in the dark and John and Maureen were amazing for firing up the stove and cooking pasta with this sauce, this easy to make decadent sauce. We sat on the thistles or the back of the car on the edge of the cacophony drinking wine waiting for the cooking and eating it well afterward. In the morning Maureen joined me in my tent, she stunning with her black hair tied back and lips in morning-after red reclining and talking desultorily. She said my eyes were very green. She said I looked like Kate Winslet. I said, before or after the ship went down? Because we arrived separately my car was parked a whole field away from theirs. I was sandwiched between strangers but people nice enough. A large group just downhill from me invited me to hang with them if I couldn't find my people. These guys were all from Eugene and in the morning while I was taking down the tent and packing they were standing around trying to decide if they were going to drive to Seattle (because Seattle's cool) or just head to Oregon. We chatted some. They asked me where I was headed and I told them and one guy said "That's brave," and I said, "Is it?" After that I think he liked me a little because he hung around and helped me out with my packing. They all liked my Radiohead t-shirt and wished to me they'd bought one. They asked how much they were and when I told them I suddenly felt like some tech-yuppie freak. Looking at my new car my new backpack the laptop in the back, CDs coming out my ears. Don't forget the Palm and the cell phone. What else? I could afford the shirt. Could afford the steep camping charge by myself. Ah well, they were all cool and nice and headed another direction so I left starting with Andrew's mix for injection, the projection, and it was a good way to begin.

future past index