Behind the Music

Every year for one weekend in June, a 700 acre farm in Manchester, Tennessee is transformed into a village of over 80,000 people. People flock to Bonnaroo's temporary camp ground to be a part of a tight knit community full of vendors with their own unique stories.\nOne visitor, Adam, would accept anything from a dollar to a banana in exchange for his merchandise. He has been coming to Bonnaroo since it started in 2002, and said he has been coming to festivals like this one since he was 14 years old. Sitting between campers on the side of one of the streets within the campground known for its vending, Adam made and sold his buttons which he called "Circular, historical, biblical documents of hippie art and culture." \nKraig Smith from Louisville, Kentucky was selling stickers at his campsite to help pay for his twhree dollar per gallon gasoline. Smith heard about the festival from friends who had been before and traveled with those veterans of Bonnaroo for his first year. Like the phrases on his stickers hinted, Smith was also an avid white-water rafter. He had been to festivals for white-water rafting, but those were much smaller than Bonnaroo. "80,000 cars and tents self contained, and everybody gets along. It's the darndest thing," said Smith. Some of his favorite musical acts at this year's festival were Tom Petty, Elvis Costello, Radiohead, and Buddy Guy. What he enjoyed most though, were the "Bonnaroo babes."\nGreg Whiteside began going to Phish festivals in the 1990's and viewed Bonnaroo as the next natural progression and has been at every one. This year Whiteside was selling breakfast burritos and grilled cheese sandwiches with the option of added vegetables. He said he usually sells food for about four or five hours in the morning and then goes to watch the musical acts. He enjoys vending food. "I just bread and cheese and butter and if I don't sell it, I don't care." Whiteside said.\nCamping next to Whiteside was Noah Miller. During what was Miller's fourth Bonnaroo, he sold posters and glass work. Miller said he picks out five or six shows to go see and spends the rest of his time out in the camp ground vending. "It's so good to come and have a good time and meet people and talk to them," Miller said. "Everybody's so kind and so nice to each other. It's just a wonderful place to be." Both Miller and Whiteside expressed discontent with the absence of The Dave Matthews Band and Widespread Panic who performed at the previous Bonnaroo. "I really miss the Dave Matthews and the Widespread. I think that's really disappointing that they dropped both of them." Miller said. \n"Shit, they didn't drop Panic," Whiteside said. "Panic said 'fuck it, we're not doing Clear Channel shit.'" Clear Channel owns approximately 12,000 radio stations, more than 30 television stations in the United States.\nCharles Bender had been to Bonnaroo twice before as a guest, but this year was his first year working. He was working for a company called Event Staffing. "Basically all we do is just make sure people aren't too fucked up on drugs, you know or tripping their mind out, or no one's fighting." Bender said. While working as opposed to merely attending the event, Bender enjoyed such privileges as not having to purchase a ticket, being fed free meals, employee tents behind the stages, and showers. Bender said he had been working mostly 12-hour shifts during the day and was able to see most of the headliners at night. He said that things were pretty flexible and that if there was a particular show he wanted to see that was during his shift, he could go as long as he could find a buddy to cover for him. One incident that occurred while Bender was working this year was after the Tom Petty show. There was a man who ended up naked. "He was like really, brutally strong, I guess 'cause he was on a lot of drugs. It took about eight guys, eight big guys to hold him down and get him subdued," Bender said. "It took about half an hour. That was about the craziest thing I saw."\nDrew Lites was with some friends selling shots. Lites and friends encouraged fellow campers to stop and purchase a shot for their father because it was Father's Day. Lites, who described his home as a little po-dunk town in Ohio, had recently returned from Iraq. This was his second Bonnaroo and he was there to "let loose!" He said that when him and his friends come to Bonnaroo they vend some little to help pay for the cost of the trip. Lites said he tries to set up his camp site near other vending hot spots, but has been kicked out of spots before by more serious venders. He described Bonnaroo as the greatest spot on earth. "You don't have to be into the drug scene," Lites said. "You could come here stone sober and still have a good time. It's a good time no matter what." \nDennis Lane was attending his second Bonnaroo with his son. Lane said he had been to several music festivals similar to Bonnaroo such as the June Jam in Alabama which was only one day, but described Bonnaroo as the biggest and the best. He said the amount of people bothers some, but that it's what makes the festival for others. Lane was pleased that the event was spread out over multiple days to allow for more music. He said that it's hot, but it's fun. "They fence us all in, and let us do what we want." Lane said. One of his favorite aspects of the festival was the amount of different bands. "It's a place for a whole generation to blow off steam. It's a place for them to come and be a rebel for four days." Lane said. "But what are you rebelling against. You got it made." He laughed at the idea that so many people had left their "fine plumbing" to come to Bonnaroo for four days to rough it. While personal reasons for coming to Bonnaroo may vary, Lane believes most people come for a simple reason. "To get a t-shirt and say I was there," Lane said. "It's what it ends up. It's just war stories." Lane was not happy about the heat or having to use port-a-potties, but it was obvious that the positives outweighed the negatives for Lane as he bid his farewell, "See 'ya next year"