Fantasy Camp

So every year for the last 5 years Israel and I have made our way to a major music festival to do the thing we love…listen to great music. These journeys have bought us to Coachella, Austin City Limits, and Lollapalooza. We have seen amazing acts like John Mayor, Coldplay, The Black Keys, Ben Harper, Muse, Oasis, Keane, Snow Patrol, Pearl Jam, Weezer, Cold War Kids, Buddy Guy, Franz Ferdinand, Tom Petty, Willie Nelson, Death Cab for Cutie, Kanye West, Lupe Fiasco, Radiohead, and Rage Against the Machine. I’m not even mentioning all the lesser known bands that are regulars on my play list. This year we went to Chicago to enjoy the sounds of Radiohead and Rage. I could go on and on about all the great music we heard but nobody wants to hear about that. It’s obvious that the music was going to be epic. People want to know what happened outside the festival.

Israel and I landed in Chicago at about midnight on Thursday. After we turned our phones on we both noticed that we were overwhelmed by text messages from Seth and Adam. It was apparent that they were at a place called Streeters Tavern and having a good time. A train ride, a cab ride, and an hour later Israel and I are standing toe to toe with this basement bar. With our luggage still in hand I look at Israel and say, “I think this is it.” We tip the bouncer 5 bucks to put our luggage in the office and our Chicago experience had officially begun. We didn’t make it home till 4am. I only mention the time because of all four nights that was the earliest time we got home. I’ll be honest and say that my body was not prepared for this kind of voyage. We ate breakfast at 3pm and dinner at 1am. We took showers at midnight preparing to go out and went to sleep when the sun was coming up. Water bottles were not used for drinking but rather as receptacles. One person forgot their credit card at a bar which turned out to be a good thing, one person took at nap at 12:30 am so he would be rested for our 1:30am departure, one person got tackled in the street and lost his phone, and one person woke up saying “guys seriously, tonight, can we turn it down a notch, just one click on the dial, my body can’t handle this.” Well that last guy was me. But I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. These experiences are what make life so colorful.

Coming home is sometimes hard to do. I love taking trips like these with the guys but the truth is…it’s not real life. It’s like a fantasy camp…a fantasy camp for people who love music, going out late, sharing a beer, and being spontaneous. I’ve paid this money not just for music but for the experience. Now that I’m older coming home means something different. Not only do I have an awesome wife waiting for me, I’ve got two kids. One hour after I set my bags down at home, I started to check all my emails. I was interrupted by this scene. My wife has her arms stretched out like wings slightly leaning to the left as she skips around the kitchen island. In a high pitched squeal she says, “No, don’t get me.” About three feet behind is my son wearing a red bandana holding a gray plastic sword. He is flailing it around wildly showing no mercy for the innocent. His animated voice yells out, “You are Peter Pan and I’m a pirate!” This pursuit continues on for another five minutes but in this story the pirate wins. As I watched this scene play out I stopped checking my email. I just sat on the couch with a smile from ear to ear. It was something I couldn’t turn away from. Then I thought to myself, “I left this for Chicago…?” Who needs fantasy camp when I’ve got a real life like this? Coming home is not so hard after all.