THE MEANING OF EXISTENCE... AND OTHER SHORT STORIES
Hark! The Summer of Mixed Spirits and Mixed Feelings By Stuart McCullough I’VE no idea what happened to me – I used to go to music festivals all the time. As a veteran of multiple ‘Big Days Out’, ‘Summersault’ and various other events requiring I wear a wristband to prove I’m over eighteen, I’m out of practice. Festivals were as much a part of summer as sand in your shoe or backyard cricket in your pajamas. Without ever making a conscious decision to do so, I stopped going. There are loads of festivals out there, but none are as ubiquitous as ‘The Big Day Out’ once was. Were it not for ‘The Big Day Out’, I would never have experienced overpriced midstrength beer. Nor would I have seen ‘Slipknot’ perform and, to this day, would be clueless on the subject of Satanic clowns. Which, quite obviously, would be a bad thing. On paper, music festivals sound like a great idea. Loads of your favourite bands all playing on the same day at the same place for your entertainment. In theory, this means that instead of going to multiple performances, you can get it all done in one day at a single venue. It’s kind of like going to Southland for your Christmas shopping, but with music. It’s breathtakingly efficient. Other than crowds, sunburn and the indignity that is the portaloo what’s not to like about a music festival? Let me count the ways… There are the prices for food that are not so much a form of extortion as they are an invitation to enduring poverty. In an ideal world – which, presumably, is one in which no music festival is conducted - no one should be forced
to choose between a souvlaki and a house deposit. But festivals are a law and pricing scheme unto themselves. ‘Finding water’ is also a potential challenge. Ideally, you’d get there early a sink a bore somewhere near the chill-out tent. Getting there and back is also a challenge. People arrive over an eight-hour period, but things get hectic when everyone wants to leave at the same time after the music stops. You’re either trying to get on a train and experiencing what it must be like to be the filling in a sweaty, sunburned and slightly inebriated human sandwich or attempting to find your car before queuing up for another hour and a half just to get out of the car park. The sun is my enemy. For me, at-
tending an outdoor music festival is all about avoiding sunburn so far as it is humanly possible to do so. As someone who needs sunscreen to avoid getting cooked by a light bulb, the very idea of spending a day exposed to the elements is extremely unappealing. Much as Cleopatra bathed herself in donkey milk, I dunk myself in SPF 50+. Little wonder I stopped going to festivals. It was my brother’s idea. We’d go, as fully-grown adults, to a music festival. Straight away I asked whether Slipknot was be playing but, sadly, they weren’t. Instead, there were a bunch of bands who’d have been at home at my last Big Day Out. I was the target market. We would go with our wives, taking fold-up chairs and a
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picnic blanket. Things have changed. Our nineteen-year-old nephew tagged along. As we approached the festival, we were reminded that alcohol was strictly prohibited and our bags would be searched. The security staff didn’t disappoint, as they rummaged around as if they were looking for treasure. I’ve boarded flights with less security. We entered and it became apparent that whilst significant effort was being made to keep alcohol out, once inside you could guzzle it to your heart’s content. Which people were, as if someone had just told them the bar would close in ten minutes after which they’d be forced to endure a lifetime of sobriety. The mood seesawed somewhere between joyful abandon and
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inebriated surrender. As one of my all time favourite bands took to the stage, every reservation I had disappeared. My nephew followed me as we headed towards the stage. Then it struck me. These probably were the same people I’d attended festivals with all those years ago. Except we were now all older and, at least theoretically, more responsible. Some however were determined to prove otherwise. It was midway through the set when a lady who was my age decided to jump over the security barrier and attempt to climb the stage. Lord knows what she intended to do when she got there. The security staff had hold of her legs as she dug her fingernails into the floor before ultimately deciding surrender was inevitable. Nothing was damaged, other than dignity. Someone else then clambered onto the shoulders of what I hope was a friend. Once aloft, the man threw his head back and ripped his shirt open. Buttons rained down. My nephew was shocked. It was as if everything he thought he knew about adulthood was a lie. I understand - nostalgia is a powerful thing. Seeing a band I’d idolized in my youth was an invigorating, life-affirming experience. For others, it was a portal back to another time when they were young, carefree and prone to either ripping their shirt off in public or poorly considered stage invasions. To each their own. Perhaps it’s all right to go back. At least for a little while. My nephew, however, may yet need time to recover. stuart@stuartmccullough.com
RED HILL SHOW
Saturday, 9th March, 2019
Labour Day Weekend | 8.30am to 5pm
The Red Hill Show – Create your show experience! SATURDAY, 9th March, the Red Hill Showgrounds come alive with the festivities of one the State’s most popular agricultural shows. Entries for most categories close this week including our inagural Red Hill Apple Pie Competition with $500 prize money. Visit our website and enter online: www. redhillshow.com.au/forms The focus to this year’s event is the new Mornington Peninsula Paddock, where show goers can visit so many local producers from Woolumbi Farm, Red Hill Truffles, Mushroom Foresty, Red Hill Brewery to Dromana Bay Mussells, Tuerong Farm and many more. Special thanks to our celebrated MC Richard Cornish, local published Food Writer and supporter of our local producers. We welcome to the MPP stage Chef Matt Wilkinson from Pope Joan and published author of Mr Wilkinson’s numerous cookbooks; and Ben Moore from Mr Bees, a renowned honey guru. The 3rd Red Hill Cider show will take place in the Paddock with a masterclass hosted by 5 local producers including Mock Orchard, Seven Oaks, Harts Farm, 1061
and Cheeky Rascal. Tastings of the awarded ciders and an apple cider vinegar demonstration can be enjoyed. Aside from the remarkable array of animals including Clydesdales, cattle, sheep, alpacas, poultry, minature goats, pet fancy rats, working dogs and more, we are thrilled to have the Australian Mountainboarders back. There will also be woodturning, spinning and weaving demonstrations. A new shaded zone will showcase the arts including the Willum Warrain indigenous kids’ art caravan, puppet shows and music by Diddy Reyes & Lady Fox. Pavilions will be filled with flowers, fruit, vegetables, cooking, craft, photography and art. Groove to the fantastic jazz vibes of The Jackson Four and kids will love the many FREE fairground rides including rock climbing, fire rescue challenge, mechanical bull ride, pony rides and more. Don’t miss Victoria’s only remaining Grand Parade at 3.00pm! For show enquiries: ph:5989 2357 e:info@redhillshow.com.au www.redhillshow.com.au
Red Hill Showgrounds - Arthurs Seat Rd, Red Hill Create your show experience! Mornington Peninsula Paddock - Chef Matt Wilkinson - Local exhibitors & producers - Cider Show - Apple Pie Comp Australian Mountainboarders - Animals Galore - Fly Dogs - Sheep Shearing - Working Dogs - Woodchop - Music Wildlife Encounters - Roaming performers - Tractors - Art & Craft Stalls - Carnival Rides and much more... Admission: $60 Family ticket (2a & 3c); $20 Adults; $10 Children (6-17 yrs); FREE 5yrs & under; $10 Students/Pensioners MOST RIDES FREE with entry! Free parking.
www.redhillshow.com.au Frankston Times
19 February 2019
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