Diary of a grumpy old man at Splendour
EPIDEMIOLOGISTS should be calling North Byron Parklands 'ground zero' right now: thousands of people dressed in nothing but flimsy shimmering (but oh, so shiny) shirts and glitter, drunk or high on some 'pill' some random gave them (always a great idea, right?), and with temperatures plummeting every day down to what it felt like 5C most nights, the Splendour flu sure is coming.
We can only assume doctors' surgeries around the country will be flooded this week with young Splendour guns turned into a snotty mess, but hey, 'the memories and the friendships made over the weekend will last for ever, right fam?'.
Time will be the judge of that, of course.
On the other side of the age gap, those over 33 (or as the young ones call us, Jurassic Kingdom), were lining up on the Lost and Found booth at the festival trying to figure out where their will to live has gone: sure, the bands are hot, the bank has not declined the purchase of drinks, those young girls did now say 'ew!' when they asked how their day was, but still, it's all a bit too much, isn't it.
Secretly, all us 30-and-overs want is to just go home and crawl under the doona, but if I don't take a selfie with some randoms at midnight dancing to Vampire Weekend how can I brag to Kym from Finance when we finally get back to the office? (cough, cough).
I mean, she's bound to be speechless at the fact that I've got a Gold pass into the (semi) exclusive and always (almost) glamorous Gold Bar, where all the (kind of) VIPs congregate.
Although by VIPs I mean the whole of Triple J plus a couple of new bands that are just too excited to be part of 'the chosen ones'.
At least it didn't rain this year so I should not complain, really.
I mean, as an accredited journalist, I got to interview some cool people... Not artists, no, I'm too old and ugly to be offered interviews with actual artists during the festival (or before it).
Not even Q&A's Tony Jones would talk to me this weekend. I didn't even try to speak to Alan Duffy at the science tent, My feeble heart could not take a rejection from Mr Duffy.
Thank God for Ben Harper and Charlie Musselwhite, Henry Rollins and Murray Wiggle or I would have been the only male over 40 in this place.
Oh well. At least I'm here.
I laughed out loud on my way to the festival listening to John from Canberra saying to Triple J that listening to the live sets via the radio was "just like being there".
Truth is, John from Canberra was at work on a Saturday while I was livin' la vida loca at Splendour.
Sorry John from Canberra, it was just not the same.
Truth is, I can't wait for next year and we still have today to go.
See you there, fam.