Monday, September 1, 2008

Day 114

after years of yearning, the wait is over.

the seattle skyline rose under rolling grey clouds.

the needle, petite and reserved, waited at the left side of the horizon. bulky and dark buildings of men formed a line, all waiting, it seemed, for their turn for a chance to win the heart of the white princess of seattle if she would happen to turn her face back from a quiet gaze across the puget sound. i never once saw her flinch.

the bumbershoot festival, based at and around the base of the needle, drew masses of people, most of which were distracting and interesting and unlike any that i'd ever seen in person. death cab for cutie wasn't until nine p.m. and we rolled in at eleven a.m. to guarantee tickets to the main stage, so we wandered around checking out the rest of the festival.

white cups gleefully bobbed in the fists of thousands of coffee sippers. the green lady with parted hair was everywhere and i wondered for a moment who's picture the starbucks logo was inspired by. she is everywhere, now, whoever she is. especially this morning in seattle.

extremists and radical hippies carried signature clipboards and posterboard signs amidst the crowd. before a part of the film festival, a staff member stood before the crowd to introduce the indie films and gave a plug for another organization where we should help cover up our carbon footprint for driving that day. the streets were noticeably clean, even in a carnival of thousands of pedestrians, white food tents, and traffic controlling fences.

paramore drew a large emo rocker crowd. not the best fit for a midday show, but satisfying enough.

we stumbled upon a stage, one of about seven that were filled with music throughout the day, that had a delicate and pretty native american girl. she sang songs about ferns and water and fire and wild grass. her voice and hollowed echoing resonation accompanied her dark hair and strange modern charm.

starbucks and clif bar booths presented tiny samples to the crowd and we stopped back several times in between walking to different stages and theaters.

we went back to the main stage to secure the closest position towards the front as we could without being in the extra-special section right below the stage. under the glow of the looming space needle, hippies and emos and musicians and everyone else stood in the warm, clear summer night to shed their summer skin on this labor day and last night of the festival.

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