A Few Things I Learned at Coachella

As the first major music festival of the summer, Coachella sets a
few important precedents. For example: How much clothing should one
bring? Is a camping stove really necessary? Is 30 too old for
whip-its, and if so, what about getting dusted?

Thankfully, I was lucky enough to attend Coachella, and I’ve already
fielded these questions and many more. Here are a few bits of wisdom to
take with you to Sasquatch! and the festivals beyond. Some of these
points may seem obvious, but so are the tips featured in
best-selling books such as The 7 Habits of Highly Effective
People and Chicken Soup for the Soul: A Tribute to
Moms.

Obey the Law

Don’t mock their flashlights—rent-a-cops are worse than the
real thing. This is especially true when they fail to pacify hundreds
of drunken kids trapped in the desert. An angry mob waiting for spots
on some long-delayed shuttle bus makes for the tensest of
company, and yet, for reasons unknown, I opted to test some officers by
sneaking into the trunk of a bus.

The first time I was caught, a would-be officer said I couldn’t ride
in the trunk because it “wasn’t safe.” I chose to ignore his concerns.
Instead, I sprinted after the bus they had pulled me from and leaped
back into the trunk as it drove away. This was a poor choice. Moments
later, I found myself in handcuffs, paraded through the crowd like a
fresh kill. A fellow revolutionary yelled, “Free that guy!” but it was
too late. I spent the rest of the night reading swear words scratched
into the backseat of a squad car.

Elegance Is a Virtue

Looking classy when you’re jiving with flip-flops and peyote is more
or less impossible, but that doesn’t mean you can’t preserve a little
human dignity. Therefore, never carry around a “frat jug,” aka a
plastic container used to hold scavenged wine, beer, soda, and other
leftover liquors. While it’s a great idea from a purely economical
standpoint, the problem is that getting drunk off these concoctions is
worse than getting drunk off the worst hobo wine. In other
words, if grape Mad Dog turns crushing light bulbs with your teeth into
witty punch lines, frat jugs turn punching out steel Dumpsters into a
Bill Hicks free-association dream tangent.

Use the Buddy System

It was 10:30 p.m. on Saturday, and Prince had just taken the stage.
Inexplicably, Morris Day came out to join him, and together they
performed “Jungle Love,” complete with the “O-e o-e oh!” dance from
Purple Rain. Meanwhile, my friends were scattered among 60,000
people, drunk… high… and totally lost. So I sat alone, underneath a
tree, frantically texting: “PRINCE LOL!?! IM@TENT!” No one
responded.

I sat there for some time, hoping in vain that my phone would work.
It wasn’t until some people dressed as Smurfs walked past me that I
ventured into the sea of people, where I finally ran into my friends.
Of course, there are many lessons to be learned here—stay with
your friends, don’t count on your cell phone, always follow the
Smurfs—but the reason I bring this story up in particular is
because of Morris Day’s dancing.

Plan Accordingly

Any time you’re dealing with large crowds, you have to assume that
whenever you want to do something, thousands of other people will have
the same idea. If you head to the food tents at, say, 6:00 or 7:00
p.m., and the line is two blocks long, was that not bad planning? Now
you won’t have time to get a room-temperature burrito and an $8
Coors.

Extending this analogy, what if you’d rather see White Rabbits over
Tegan and Sara? Unless you use the festival’s schedule, you’ll be like
the people who whine for weeks over not seeing their favorite artist
because of “the bathrooms.” Or maybe you secretly like Tegan and Sara,
in which case I don’t know what to tell you.

(Don’t) Do Drugs

Two points worth mentioning. First, why do people keep putting
illegal substances in cigarette boxes? This is the first place security
guards check, and guess what happens when they find your stashed
doobie? They SMOKE it! And then they expose you for being the
malefactor who put it there in the first place.

Second, weekend warriors take note: You cannot do the same drug for
three straight days and expect the same results—there is such a
thing as the Law of Diminishing Returns. If you’re lucky enough to see
clouds morphing into Garfield’s face on that first night, treasure the
moment and move on. You’re not supposed to be high during
R.E.M., anyway.