Festering Festival

This weekend I attended the 8th Annual First Flush Festival at the Charleston Tea Plantation. The Flush in question has nothing to do with plumbing and everything to do with the time of year that the tea leaves are picked. There are four flushes, one for each season, and the Tea Plantation celebrates their first harvest of the year with a big music and food festival.

I stole this photo.

I'll start by saying that I had the greatest time ever and had no idea what a festering mess the whole ordeal was. That's because, as I was saying, I'm a content non-analyzer.
A couple months ago I bought Ari and myself a ticket. We decided she would be perfectly healed from her tonsillectomy by then and we could frolic through the tea leaves while listening to tunes and eating from food trucks. T'was just a few days beforehand that Ari called and screeched out an "I'm not going to make it." So to continue with the new trend, I forced Omar to go with me. Thank goodness I have him. I hope he's not feeling used.
It was a crowded and noisy festival but the weather was perfect and the food was delicious.

I stole this photo too.

The selling point for me however was not the farmy atmosphere or the mobile kitchens. Indeed my life was made this weekend because the headlining band was none other than my three true loves, The Avett Brothers.

Now clearly I did not take this picture either for if I was ever that close to these fellas, all hell would break loose. Or I would recoil into a bashful ball and watch quietly, hoping they could see through my sweaty, grinning exterior and find that I truly truly love them. Omar did however act as my muscle, pushing me through the crowd to get me close enough to take this picture...

...which is my closest to date. Next time, Avetts. Next time.

Now, the festering part. Apparently lots of people had an awful time. 

Apparently ticket-bearing folks were turned away at the door because it was too crowded. People were fighting their way in, parking miles away on the highway and trekking towards the fun. Meanwhile, Omar and I had plunked down on a grassy patch overlooking the festival goers, where we sat with a bowl of nachos, giggling and people watching. Apparently people were upset about how far the Porta Potties were from the stage. I remember thinking, "Oh good. They have Porta Potties." Apparently some liquor companies advertised drink specials that were nowhere to be found. I zoomed in on the fresh tea and exclaimed, "Sweet tea and sunshine! What more could you need?"

I wasn't bothered by waiting in the long lines or stepping over "poorly placed ditches." The litter on the ground, the "too-loud opening bands", and the "inadequately stocked food trucks" didn't phase me one bit. Should it have? Should my time have been ruined because there were other people present that also wanted food and a front row seat? Was I just too happy to be bothered? Am I doltish?

I will say that being turned away when I had already paid for a ticket would have most definitely upset me. Tickets weren't cheap and it would take more than rent-a-cop to keep me from seeing the Avetts. 

But gosh I had the best time just being there.

Maybe I'm a dog-like village moron and I never knew it.