Friday, January 26, 2018

Jazz Aspen Snowmass: Ten Years Later

I’ve had a lot of festival experiences in my time. One of the most interesting experiences I’ve ever had was in 2007 at the Jazz Aspen Snowmass festival in Colorado. I’ve never seen a more up-tight bunch of people try to have fun. I mean no disrespect – I love Colorado and Coloradans, but some people – wherever they’re from – take themselves way too seriously. We’re more of the easy-going type. My husband and I had just spent eight hours floating down a river on a tube. My biggest concern was not dropping my shoes off the side. After some food, some refreshment, and a few campfire songs, we retired to the back of the van for a few hours of rest before hitting the road.

We arrived in Aspen, Colorado early morning and found a quaint little joint that was overrun with festival-goers. After a delicious meal and a mimosa, we had nothing else to do, so we headed to the festival grounds. Upon arriving, a thin man in his 60s directed us into a lot with only a few other cars. It would eventually fill up, but we couldn’t believe our luck – we were parked right in front of the gate.

We freshened up in the van like a couple of hillbillies. Still rough and ragged from the river, we made our way in with the usual provisions: blanket, sunscreen, water bottle, extra socks, that sort of thing. We found a place to park our blanket, took a load off, and took in our surroundings. Every group of 2-4 people had a large (full to queen-sized) blanket. Larger groups, of course, had several blankets put together. All of the blankets were very politely spaced, so as to have plenty of room to walk through them, because of course you don’t want someone to walk on your blanket. That you’re sitting on. On the ground.

The point is, all of these blankets are taking up an enormous amount of space. Where we might normally have fit 5,000 people, there were not even 500. In spite of my disgust at their lack of space management, I accepted my fate and settled in. We’d come for Gov’t Mule and Derek Trucks & Susan Tedeschi with the Soul Stew Revival tour. We’d missed The Allman Brothers Band the day before, but when the river calls… We weren’t sitting there more than twenty minutes when a very well-dressed woman with nice hair and heels comes up to us and begins accusing us of stealing her blanket. Didn’t ask, just laid in.

I very politely told her we had walked directly in with our stuff, had just set this blanket down, and had been nowhere near anywhere she had been. She kept on. I don’t remember what she said, but it wasn’t pretty. She called us names, she threatened us, and all I could think to do was meet her on her level. So, I got a little angry. I explained that just last month, my baby had been laying on this very blanket at a festival in Minnesota.

“So, good luck to you, but you’ve got the wrong blanket.”
She huffed off.



We looked at each other in disbelief. I’ve been called a hippie before, but I’ve never been accused of stealing someone’s blanket at a festival. Once we’d collected ourselves, we laid back to inspect the festival program. This was unlike any document I’d seen outside of the symphony. I’ve gotten booklets at festivals before… They contain important information like the line-up, what you cannot bring into the concert grounds, and sometimes even have bios of the artists/bands. Usually, they’re in a small, square booklet; this one was in a large, rectangle booklet that I swear looked just like a symphony program.

I have no memory of who we saw perform first that day. What I do remember, however, is the Voice. The Voice confirmed that indeed we were at the symphony. There was one stage, so when the first band was done, there was a break in the action while the roadies reset the stage for the next group. During that time, of course, people got up, used the port-a-potties, bought a beer or an over-priced gyro. When that break was over, the big booming Voice was there to bring us all back in.

“The concert is about to begin. Please return to your seats.”
“Are you kidding me?”

I was in shock. I have never been to a festival before or since with the Voice. Most don’t attempt to control thousands of people. I suppose it’s nice to know the show is about to begin if you’ve been out and about, but I swear, most adults have a handle on time management. And I’m pretty sure it said how long the breaks were in that fancy program. Of course, I did the only logical thing and waited until the Voice did its thing again and then got up to pee and get a beer. I felt like such a rebel.

The two bands I followed the rules for were, of course, the ones we’d come for: Gov’t Mule and Derek & Susan. I know we saw several bands that day, but this was 2007, and I don’t remember much. I do remember seeing The Mule and thinking they gave a typical, safe festival show. I don’t blame them given the up-tight audience. Of course, everyone looooooved Derek and Susan. That was an incredible experience. We take it for granted now, but back then, I’d seen Tedeschi live, and I’d seen Trucks live, but The Tedeschi Trucks Band was not yet a thing. The run wasn’t very long, so it had been worth it to leave our friends on the river and drive all night to Colorado. We were not disappointed. They did a perfect combination of her songs, his songs, and covers. I remember looking around at one point: mountains all around me, everyone euphoric, a perfect summer day, and the best soundtrack on the planet.



Those are the moments I live for, those are the moments I put up with all the B.S. for. Life is hard and extremely short. Sure, I collect my fair share of stuff, but I prefer to spend money on experiences. I try to live modestly and work hard so I can go to live music. It’s like a drug. It’s church. It makes my body tingle and takes away my thoughts, allowing me to just feel. I felt a lot that day.


When the day ended and there was no more fun to be had, we headed out to the van. I looked like our friend Russ (that’s what we decided to call him) had parked us in a VIP lot. With much rejoicing at our easy departure, we drove, through darkness, into the mountains. I honestly don’t remember where we went after that. I don’t remember driving to a hotel, though I’m sure we stayed somewhere nearby. I do remember reflecting on the day; laughing at some points, grinning fiercely at others, and remembering the beautiful scenery. I may not recall everything from that experience, but based on what I’ve still got, Jazz Aspen Snowmass was a lovely festival, and we would definitely do it again. 

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