I got there at 10:30, and the gates opened at 11 a.m. The last band was scheduled to finish its set by 11 p.m.
In the morning into early afternoon, clouds covered the sky, partially alleviating the heat. But as the storm passed – complete with a directive for concert-goers to take shelter under the stands – the clouds cleared and the direct sun was released onto our heads, arms and noses.
I reapplied sunscreen several times throughout the day, and drank water, water, water and then Gatorade, Gatorade, Gatorade, all over ice.
Yet, by 3 p.m., I, the germaphobe, was sprawled out on the concrete lamenting how tired I was, “I’m too old” my favorite refrain.
I did everything right. I hydrated. I ate. I took breaks in the shade. I didn’t drink alcohol.
But still, by the end of the day, I was napping in my car before driving the 2-1/2 hours home to Cleveland.
The point is, safety is work, but it’s worth it. Thanks to my preparations, I did not get dehydrated nor was I carted from the festival on a stretcher. I did get some sunburn, but it was minimal.
And never did I feel like I was sacrificing my fun to stay safe. I just made it part of my day, and, ultimately felt better for it.
So, lovely readers, I ask you, as you head into the world this weekend, please be safe.
Hydrate. Not with alcohol, but with “high quality H2O” Adam Sandler style.
Wear a hat. Any hat. Even your “raspberry beret,” you know, “the kind you find in a second hand store.”
Slip on those sunglasses. And if you want, wear them at night. Well, not really. That’s not safe, but I needed a line.
And, in the words of that timeless Baz Luhrmann bit, “Trust me on the sunscreen.”