I’m going down the road feeling bad. I exit at Bronson to find somewhere to fill my 2.5 liters worth of empty plastic water bottles. My one vice representative of my conservative values I staunchly hold on to. (Truth be told I was going to bring a giant refillable but the Blues fest said there was no unsealed water bottles. I didn’t want to lose my trusty canteen at the door if even empty it constituted unsealed.
I park at the Museum and immediately lock myself in an emergency stairwell because of stupidity. But realistically the exit door was also locked but buzzed. After some paranoid banging a couple of nice ladies let me out. Breathe Steve breathe.
On site I see the Mill St brewery tents all over staffed by college kids. Cheap labor but it adds a c-note and a line to a resume.
So bottom line is that I am here.
To be continued…