Yes, I know I am only on day two of my Bonnaroo posts but listen dear reader, I seem to live three full lives every year at that piece of fertile soil in the western Tennessee Valley and much like Jack's famous whiskey distilled in the same county, you just can't rush these things.
There plenty more to come from the farm, but currently I am at 8000 some odd feet in what is arguably the most eye popping piece of Colorado, listening to some of the most ear popping bluegrass floating from the heavens. This is indeed the cradle of America's music. This is the the strains of happiness and heartache at its purest and I am simply honored to be able to go straight from Bonnaroo to Bluegrass, hence the title Editor AT LARGE.
Hell I don't even know what time or day it is. Maybe it's the elevation or the 16 ounces sampler of Oskar Blues' finest but life at a mile and half high is mighty sweet. Once I get the pictures up and running I promise you will all be jealous of my environs. To the point, the "house band, includes Bela Fleck, Sam Bush, and Jerry Douglas and the Avett Brothers have left a wake of bodies in their path since they showed up.
The air is thin, the sun is out and the high lonseome sound echoes for miles and miles.
Stay tuned, more to come.... off to see Guster try and get their Ralph Stanley on
Extra Point: This is hands down the best run festival Sweet Talk has ever encountered. If all people were this kind and helpful there would be no need for chill out tents or bumber stickers clammoring for whirled peas.