It Can't Be Over Already....Can It?

There was one little detail of our first annual blues festival for which I hadn't prepared myself. It's easy to understand how this "little detail" could be overlooked: When it took on a life of it's own, the festival required more attention than ever. I can only speak for myself, (but I'm sure the other organizers would agree): For five months, I ate, slept and dreamed "festival".For me, it became another full time job. As the festival director I felt it was my job to pick up any dropped balls, and that first year there were plenty of them, including some that were never tossed in the air to begin with. It was a healthy dose of "on the job training" and looking back, it was probably the best way to learn about the business of throwing a blues party for thousands of people.

When the event finally kicked off everything seemed to happen very quickly. A local group whose front man was on the festival committee opened up the show. All the members are from the local community. Opening for an unknown quantity like a first annual blues fest had to be unnerving, and I was glad for them that their huge local following all showed up to support them. While they aren't necessarily a blues band (their repertoire leans more towards Jimmy Buffett than Muddy Waters), they had put together a fun blues set and provided a nice, local flair for the opening. They were followed by another band, and then the headliner.We had self-imposed a 9:00 p.m. curfew to indicate a sense of good-neighbor-ship to the City. The headliner had whipped the audience into such a frenzy, though, that by 9:00 o’clock, neither side wanted things to end. I kept okaying another song and then another. I was standing stage right watching the band, grinning ear to ear, when someone tapped me on the shoulder and yelled "THE COPS ARE HERE AND THEY WANT TO TALK TO WHOEVER IS IN CHARGE!!!" Thud. Damn!

Spotting the boys in blue, I made my way to them and invited them to step outside the tent where we could all hear each other a little better. In their best law enforcement voices, they let me know that one of the neighbors was complaining that we had violated our own curfew! It was evident that neither of these fine law enforcement officials really had their heart in their task. This particular neighbor had publicly complained throughout all the months of planning, and the cops knew it. I wasn't at all surprised that we had been "busted", and assured them that this would be the last song.

And when the boys in blue came back, this time they were not so understanding. This time, the last song really was the last song.

By 10:00 p.m. the last blues stragglers had wandered out, and we still had a lot of work to do. Everything needed to be packed up and put away for the evening, and because we had overlooked the issue of banking, we had money to count. Roy E., Steve and his wife and I went to an undisclosed location where, throughout the evening, gobs and gobs of money had been taken.

It was time to count the till and discover just how well we really did on the festival’s inauguration. A little over an hour later, it was like all your birthdays and every Christmas combined: We had raked in enough money to pay all our bills, AND we had money left over! Everything we might take in on Saturday and Sunday would be a generous slathering of icing on the cake.

The crowd on Saturday was bigger than the one on Friday. With the additional people in the crowd, it seemed like there was a new fire to put out every five minutes, but each one was quickly and easily extinguished. The events of the day seemed to blend into each other. We were congratulated so many times on Saturday, my face sported a perma-grin that by Sunday actually hurt my face. Try holding your widest smile for over 48 hours and see how YOUR cheeks feel.

By the time the main attraction took the stage Saturday night, the 40 x 140 foot tent looked like it was going to explode with people. There was a crush of fans that were as close to the stage as the security fence would allow, and they were packed in elbow to elbow about 50 people deep. The headliners had the audience even more stirred up than Friday night's crowd, and the entire blues big top appeared to be moving and breathing. Once more we violated our self-imposed curfew to the chagrin of law enforcement.

Again Saturday, the tally was taken, and again we had cause for celebration. We were elated that this newcomer to the community was being so well received. By now, my voice was gone from so many conversations of yelling over the noise and while every fiber of my being ached, nothing could touch the discomfort of two feet that had been tortured for two days straight. And there was another day to go! Next to giving birth, it was the sweetest pain I've ever endured. Come to think of it, throwing a festival IS kinda like giving birth...

Sunday's show started with an incredibly talented solo acoustic performer who was the perfect complement to an early Sunday afternoon performance. A congenial young man from Michigan's upper peninsula, he won over the crowd with his subtle blues stylings. He reminded me of a bluesy Chris Isaac.

Another band performed, and then the headliner took the stage. As the band sang their way into the final hour of the festival, that one overlooked "little detail" hit me like a ton of bricks: The festival was going to end! The clock was ticking on this wildly successful new kid on the block and now, instead of giving birth, it felt like it was about to die. As I stood off to one side alone, emotion overcame me and I quietly shed a few very happy tears. I was so distraught that I let the band go past our curfew, one more time. Sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do. At the next city council meeting, the mayor addressed the violation but by then we were everybody’s darlings and we were slapped on the wrists with a wink.

It was the end of the first annual blues festival, but only for about five minutes it seemed. Organizers were soon comparing notes and talking about how to tweak the second annual festival. We were off and running, getting ready for 2003, much wiser and more attentive to all the little details.