Posted 8:55 PM by Anonymous

Granolas, Hippies and Me, Oh My!

Reposted from my November 15th journal entry.

It was Thursday night and I was disappointed because RBJ was down due to continuing difficulties with their web host. I was bummed out, I had already surfed all my daily journal reads and RBJ was down. What would I do until Survivor came on TV?!?

My roomate John walked in the door and the conversation went something like this:
Me: What's up John?
John: Hey not much, what are you doing later tonight?
Me: Not much, why?
John: Wanna go see some Bluegrass downtown?
Me: Bluegrass?!? What the hell is that?
John: It's Bluegrass, wanna go?
Me: Yeah let me think about it.
....
Me: Ok sure

So off we headed to downtown Seattle. I didn't know where the show was going to be. John just gave me directional hints as he talked on his cell phone to a friend back home. It felt like we were going to some super secret location that no one knew about.

Our first stop was in Queen Anne to pick up our co-worker's girlfriend, she wanted to go to the show. They lived in this studio apartment that in days past used to be a high school. Mrs. Smith could have very well taught French in that portion of the classroom many years ago. At any rate the apartment was gorgeous.

After a few drinks off we went to The Showbox on 1st ave to see The Yonder Mountain String Band perform.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into. As we waited outside at the doors I could tell very quickly that I wasn't going to fit in based on the general makeup of the crowd. Once we got inside we headed to the Green Room to have a few drinks and wait for the band to start their first set. I'll have to say that it was a really cool bar and I was impressed up to this point.

We heard the band start their first set and finished up our drinks as we began to move towards the stage. There I stood amidst granolas and hippies with unkempt beards and mangy dreadlocks. The air was permeated with the smell of cloves, body odor and marajuana. The atmosphere was charged as if everyone was waiting for the bolt of lightning to strike during the storm. This is how I always pictured Seattle.

The music started up and something happened. For three hours I became a granola minus the unkempt beard, mangy dreadlocks, au natural B.O., hemp clothing, clove cigarettes and shirt promoting organic foods. I danced a jig like it was going out of style. The music was contagious, it was pure energy! Everyone was filled with happiness, if I could picture in my mind's eye even an inkling of what woodstock was like I would start here. It didn't matter whether you were a college student a resident of a local trailer park or a yuppie like myself; for those few hours everyone fit in.

I tore myself away from the dance floor to answer nature's call halfway through the first set. Unfortunately the men's room was all the way on the other side of the extremely packed dance floor. I meandered through the sea of bodies pressed together, dancing. As I passed through a particularly attractive hippie looking girl grabbed me by the hands and started dancing with me. We danced a bit and then she introduced herself as Rain. I told her my name was Raven and she swooned instantly; she asked me to marry her on the spot because I had such a cool name. I screamed over the music that I was taken and hurried on to the bathroom.

Tonight re-kindled something inside me; my desire to enjoy life. Over the past few months I have fallen into a dangerous rut. I would come home, fix a frozen dinner, watch TV and surf the internet. I pretty much declined all invitations to go out because I would miss out on my internet time. Tonight showed me what it was to have fun again. I choose life over the internet... for now.