Rock Bottom

I heard a woman loudly complain that “these people are the dregs of society” at Rockfest on Saturday.  I stopped in my tracks as I waited for someone to deck her.  Had staying upright in the muck not been my top priority, I might have confronted her myself.

I’ve had it with incessant attacks on the annual music festival.  An alarming percentage of my acquaintances feel entirely comfortable mocking the music and patrons of Rockfest.

At best, their criticism is harmless bullying.  Most of the time, however, it’s unadulterated cultural elitism.

There’s a lot about Rockfest that I don’t like either.  It’s no secret that I loathe drug culture.  And I’m not amused by the festival’s unofficial mantra of “show me your titties." 

But I like hearing tens of thousands of proud people chant “USA” during the event’s displays of patriotism.  As for the music, I listen to several of the bands featured at this year’s festival for pleasure. 

Even though four people in the embedded photo are clearly displeased with me, I feel no less at home at Rockfest than at any other public gathering.

Here’s my Rockfest review.


---
I consider the concept of jazz standards in an album review at Plastic Sax.

---
Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear were featured in a Tiny Desk Concert.

--
I’m embarrassed to admit that the visuals of a Kamasi Washington performance helped me finally appreciate The Epic.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)