Chapter Six: 3% Don’t Know Where They Are (2014 cont.)

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Sitting on a picnic bench that could be overlooking beautiful Lake Michigan but can’t because some asshole decided to be greedy (like everyone else in the 80’s) and create more land by inventing Summerfest Island, a giant landfill turned park that obstructs lake views for 95% of the property.

(Thank a lot, assholes.)

I’m sitting right by “the rocks” which used to be an awesome place to make out because it’s off the beaten path of the main fesitival, and it used to have an awesome view of Lake Michigan until some greedy asshole with way too much power decided to dump Milwaukee’s garbage into the lake in one of the worst, most disappointing land grabs of all time.

(I digress.)

Currently 10:10 PM on a Wednesday night.

I’m hanging out outside a stage where L.A. group Airborne Toxic Event are performing.

They just mentioned that they’re from L.A. and everyone they ran into today claims that our shitty, cloudy 58 degree Fahrenheit with a light mist is in fact not cold.

(Welcome to Milwaukee, softies.)

The youth of America are floating past me. Fucked up. Checking their phones. Hugging with force. Blabbering in about whatever young people blabber on about.

Laughing.

Smoking.

Drinking.

Puking.

Trying to get, hold, and keep (blank)’s attention.

Now that sun has set, I’ve seen at least 3 couples kissing, and 1 couple seriously making out on the rocks (despite the fact they can’t see the fucking lake.)

They’re walking in pairs, sharing cigarettes, going to check out (blank).

7% are there for the music.

90% are there to be seen.

3% don’t know where they are.

Older folks are dressed with jackets for the cool lake breeze.

Young folks are rocking the mid-riff exposed, tanned, and ripped.

Rick that belly, girl. For as long as you can.

Show off those biceps, dude.

You’re only young while you’re young.

Some are walking in threes, arm and arm dancing while walking.

Laughing.

Drinking.

Soaking it in, despite the crumby weather.

Some are holding hands.

Some are holding a beer.

Some are checking their phone, and some are walking alone.

Some have hoods up.

Some are eating popcorn with hoods up.

Some are looking to charge their cellular device.

Some are wearing ponchos.

Some are bearing child.

Some are recycling.

Some are blowing out smoke known to cause cancer.

All while Airborne Toxic Event revert to a mini-drum-solo.

Some are playing air guitar.

Some are running because they’re late for Ludacris.

Some are limping because they’re old and injured.

One dude was wearing a GWAR shirt.

One lady was walking at a pretty steady clip with her walker.

One guy was still wearing his sunglasses.

One guy’s wearing a Bo Jackson Raider jersey.

Winner: Keep Calm and Get Stan on it

Some people are fat and beautiful.

Some people are fat and ugly.

Some people are skinny and beautiful.

Some people are skinny and ugly.

There is something eternally beautiful about all of this.

(Sternum thumping bass and the smell of fried food.)

Sternum thumping bass in the distance and the taste of fried food.

Fish net stockings.

And some lady folding a blanket.

It’s 11:19 PM CST and The Airborne Toxic Event are playing their last song of the evening.

“This is a folk song about being a fuck-up.”

Some young lady to my left confidently set her beverage on the fence, and plugged in her cellular device to charge it.

(Sipping on ice.)

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

It’s 11:26 PM. Just saw 3 different people running.

Why?

Why are you running at this ungodly hour?