Tarp Surfing Thursday

Oh my lord was that fun. It's like a family reunion. Starting with the gal in front of my mom's tarp - "Hey I know you, we were in kindergarten together." And then we're off. Rapid fire memory snaps are as follows:
- Checking in at the following tarps: The CORE (everything else is periphery), the smoking tarp (Bendall et. al.), the Mom/Irish tarp (including a 5-month only first time folkie), the Nair tarp.
- Arranging some ticketry-pokery. I held up my extra Thursday ticket for about 30 seconds before it was gobbled up. Dished off to Birkby and C-Money who will be making their inaugural folkfest appearances tonight. Expect also a cameo appearance from Frankisan in a stop over between Europa and Nippon.
- Being chastised for my suggested name change. Damn I forgot that the CORE is a communist regime, where all decisions must be made in unison. But we all know what a totalitarian sham that always turns out to be. I thought our tarp kills fascists? Hmmmmm!!!! I smell a top down, individual crushing uniformity led by the Maestro and Hill Nanny. That's right, THE LINESMAN is instigating a seditious insurrection.
- So good to hang out for some beer garden libations with the Ref and Tarp Tart. It could be said that the Linesman was feeling the effects, helped along by Mom's special lemonade. Who said "it's only Thursday?" What kind of a crusty regime is this becoming? I'm going to align myself with the Reverend and his scotch against all party-poopers. THE LINESMAN IS BREAKING ALL THE RULES.
- Fantastic weather. In fact I would go so far as to say it was PERFECT.
- Alpha Blondy and the Solar System TOTALLY RULE. Not as much reggae as spacey cosmicness, I half expected space commander David Bowie to step out and issue marching orders to the space cadets. Pretty pumping jams. Descriptions of idyllic life in the Ivory Coast, "But then the politicians come! And pit us against each other, ethnic against ethnic!" Good rabble rousing. THE LINESMAN APPROVES.
- Tarp Nazi's black licorice. Mmmm. Root flavors and roots music. Synchronicity.
- The Maestro's impromptu lyrics to Loreena McKennitt harpsical stylings, along the lines of "Two irishmen walked through the mist, on the fine shores of Galway." I guess when you've heard one Irish song, you've heard them all. While we mocked Loreena, Tarp Tart was loving it. Falsetto in full effect. The Maestro chimed in with his special brand of over-the-top guitar mimickry when they got the celtic-rock fired up.
- And me staring into the sky just giggling.