04.09.19 – 6:32PM EDT – Tuesday Evening – Boston Logan Terminal E

Once more unto the breach, and by the breach I mean the ass-end of Boston Logon International Airport. End of the line. I actually walked past the check-in counter on my way in. Missed it entirely. There was no one there. Dude said the flight was full. Fine. No one here at the gate either. I’m early. Always for flights. Gives me more time to sit around and contemplate mortality amidst the ever-present knowledge that the people who own the aircraft I’ll step into circa whenever and which will spirit me away to Keflavik and Schiphol, respectively, think of me as little more than an impending statistic.

I’ll have a bite to eat in a few minutes and feel closer to human for it, but until the flight boards, it’s this, the Lo-Pan record playing in my headphones — I’ll put Floor on when we board, as tradition dictates — and a whole lot of nothing until takeoff. Oh, I know, I’ll dick around on social media until I find some band news from like four days ago that I totally missed and should’ve put up and wow I’m irrelevant and terrible at this and blah blah blah.

So yeah, I’m ready for Roadburn.

Have been, in fact. There’s a switch that goes off in my head a few weeks before. You know the “holiday season?” I don’t believe in the holiday season, but I do believe in Planet Roadburn, and once every year, I can feel the magnetic forces of the universe aligning as Planet Roadburn makes ready to enter into what we consider “our” dimension for a few days, only to then disappear again and prepare for the next round. All of this happens, and it’s just like the holiday season in that I spend most of my days punching myself in the face every chance I get. Only big difference is the holidays suck and Roadburn is life-affirming. And yes, that’s a big difference.

Dudes be like…

I don’t really have a plan yet. I have the day schedules — here they are:

As usual, Roadburn means hard choices. As unusual, I still need to make mine. I get so hung up on getting to a place on time to take pictures, I end up missing all kinds of bands I’d otherwise try to at least stop in and watch for a couple minutes if I could. Well, no one gives a shit about my photos, so I’m going to try to adjust that balance a bit and maybe do less standing around in front of empty stages this year and a little more enjoying music. We’ll see if my inflated ego and self-importance can take the hit. If you want my bet, I’d say probably no, it can’t. Punch punch punch.

Things I remembered to pack: Pills, laptop, camera, chargers, passport, etc. Shirts. Jeans. Hippie pants. Gum. Protein bars. Advil. Earplugs. I’ve been up since four this morning and I’m dehydrated already and as tired as I’ve ever been on any level you can possibly imagine. So yes, it must be time for Roadburn.

Off I go. In a couple hours.

Tags: Roadburn 2019, Roadburn 2019 Trip, Roadburn Festival

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 9th, 2019 at 5:53 pm and is filed under Features. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.