Day 2/Morning 3: Returning Gear

The drive to return the snare drum and cymbals Ron borrowed for his set was absolute insanity. There was cause for alarm in every direction. Ron manned the wheel. An innocent female bystander was sitting shotgun and... I was sitting in the back of my own car, freaking out about the rain and the baldness of my tires. Ron didn't seem to care, having already found comfort near the edge.

The day was filled with strange obstacles, all of which we overcame using science & wit. The Artist Village provided only the whorest of alcohol types: Red Bull & Vodka. Why whiskey wasn't offered puzzles me slightly. My assumption is they they (the puuters on of ACL FEST) assume whiskey is musicians weakness; perhaps afraid of the fact it will consumed in awesome excess.
The Artist Village at ACL is an erie foxhole. The typical artist pretension that runs high at these type of conventions keeps the village sterile and tame. No one's acting out the pressure they bring on themselves. None of them are getting drunk because, evidently, that's not cool anymore. So there's little that inspires in the Artist Village.