Joe Speaker

I survived. Three days of hot, sweaty rock. Three days of getting drunk in the pool before going to see hot, sweaty rock. Three days of navigating polo fields littered with sprawled humans.

I’m exhausted, burnt to medium well and happy to be home. But I wish it was Friday morning again.

Of the nine people in our group for Coachella ‘07, I only knew Betty. I felt like I knew a little about the others from her debriefing, but they were all close friends, so I’d be playing the part of the New Guy, albiet the interloper with similar taste in old school metal. In fact, I wasn’t in the rental house ten minutes when someone dropped a Celtic Frost reference.

The four males had grown up together and had a many-beer head start on me that Thursday night as they talked of old times. I hovered on the periphery (also known as the patio), assessing the scene, thinking about how much they reminded me of my own Gang. These kinds of groups can be tough to crack and I related my slight unease to my same feelings about the festival. Namely, that I’d be out of place.

They were gathered around the centerpiece to the great room: the pool table. Talking trash, taking the piss, one-upping each other with each hilarious, rapid-fire quip. The music banged out of the iPod and I drank in the warm night air listening to all of it and smiling inside.

When I heard the bell toll, that smile spread to my face. I stood and stepped inside to get the full volume of the song, “Hallowed Be Thy Name.”

“This is my favorite Iron Maiden song,” I said, by way of introduction.

“That’s because it’s fucking awesome,” was the reply from the host. And nodding at the pool table, he added, “Wanna play?”

From that point on, it was a whirlwind of hearty laughter, chunky riffs and hilarious antics. I can’t wait ’til next year. Why?

Because it was fucking awesome.

This entry was posted on Monday, April 30th, 2007 at 4:07 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.