Theoretically, it was all set out to be a swell surprise for my dad's 60th birthday. Little Hank was, it was hypothesized, to have been driven in the early hours to an undisclosed location for days of unrelenting musical genius and sunshine.
The surprise bit worked. We drove 5 hours south of Vancouver to the Gorge on the Columbia river, and he had no idea what was going on and as a result, Little Hank ate Bit-O-Honey's consecutively to calm his nerves.
We parked the car and set up the gargantuan tent (7 feet tall inside people) and headed towards the entrance to the Sasquatch Festival. En route we were hollered to by chunky bohunks and ordered to imbibe Captain Morgan's from Costco-sized bottle (picture to follow).
The place was full of tools and fools, the occasional nice folks to meet in line or in the pit, a large spoonful of assholes and some crap organization. Sasquatch!! Yeahhh! Lebo organized a gong show of monumental proportions.
Here's Manu Chao, he was great. But what we were all shouting in the middle of each song, I'll never know...."Ey!" or "AIDS!" or "Raze!"
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