The sun’s tumultuous rays stream from the noon-day sky. The small grassy area partitioned off for the musical extravaganza about to ensue is packed densely with 100,000 sweaty and dehydrated concert-goers. Even though you’ve been standing for hours, you feel energized with the building excitement that precedes each act, preparing for the inevitable big-time headliners still hours away. An outside music festival is an experience in its own category, and each experience is never quite the same. Dreams of fulfilling my music festival fantasies danced in my head as I prepared to buy tickets for one such event. I had just filled out my credit card information, and was getting ready to click the place order button when something stopped me.
Now, I had been looking forward to my first Coachella Music Festival experience for several years. I had been to other festivals before, but due to money constraints and non-idyllic circumstances, the Indio, CA-based festival had always alluded me. So the money was in my bank account, the time was requested off: What was stopping me? Truth be told, while it was an acceptable line-up, some of the ones I had thought with every fiber of my being were going to perform, were missing from the official poster. This allowed any misgivings of mine to grow into an even larger seed of doubt. Did I really want to go? I proceeded to make a list of all the bands I wanted to see. Then I crossed off ones that had a high probability of visiting Arizona sometime this year. So I was left with a handful of wonderful artists that still didn’t have me convinced to commit 300 dollars, money for a hotel (camping passes were now sold out, no longer a feasible option), and a four-hour car ride to go see. As I sat at my computer on the precipice of getting a ticket, I wondered what to do. Well, I reasoned to myself, the layaway deadline is Feb . I’ll give myself until then. The fates must have been conspiring against me because two days later, the announcement went out that Coachella had completely sold out in about a week.
So guess who felt like a dork? Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Once I got over the failure of my indecisive nature, (which took a bit of time) I realized that maybe it just wasn’t supposed to be my year to go. Perhaps it should have been a sign when the camping passes disappeared in record time, and many had to question where they would even stay if they did go. Or maybe when the set-list was less than ideal (for me personally, but I’m glad for those whose happiness it did inspire). Whatever the signs that my thick-skull could not perceive, I have not given up for other future music endeavors. There’s still Bonnaroo in Tennessee, or Sasquatch in Washington, or even Lollapalooza in Chicago. Time will tell if I make it to one of these events, but I will think positively. I hope this holds true for all the other stragglers who could not make up their mind in time to purchase a ticket. However: To all those who were lucky enough to get tickets, enjoy your time in the sun surrounded by thousands of other sweaty, sun burnt, stinky, and musically inclined individuals. I know I would.
Coachella Music Festival takes place on April 15-17 in Indio, CA.
