It's supposed to be my favorite event of the year, it always has been before. This is my 6th year, and I knew it would be different this year, but as it got closer the more it dawned on me. I kept blaming it on the venue change, or my new team. Maybe it was the lack of communication and disorganization from the new venue? It'll be harder because I am stressed out. I am not as excited because I am in pain and my health isn't good. I am worried because of my additional responsibilities, and honestly the lineup isn't my favorite anyway.... I pushed the real reason father down the closer it got.
The night before I was supposed to leave I stayed at the comedy club for hours, just talking, and planning...... and stalling. Questioning if I should even go. The media packets weren't ready; that was a good excuse. I didn't have everything in place, money was tight, the weather was iffy, people would believe me if I gave any of the millions of reasons there were not to go, everyone would believe me, everyone except me.
I knew the truth, I knew they were all perfectly good reasons not to go. I knew they were all going to make the trip hard. I knew that they were all reasons I wasn't as excited as normal, but more than anything I knew that I could overcome them, and the real truth was the only thing that would keep me from going was YOU.
This was our event, the event we had worked together so many times before. Through the good and the bad, no matter what was going on between us, one thing we could absolutely do as a team was work this festival, and we could work it flawlessly.
I will never forget the day I was trying to explain that I would need someone to fill in for you on one of the days you couldn't be there. Someone suggested I write a job description explaining what it is you do during festival week, I said ya right what's that supposed to say "Seeking someone to keep me on schedule, jump into crowds and save me when things get rough, run across festival grounds, fix my hair and makeup when necessary, run a video camera, remind me repeatedly that everything's going to be okay, keep my blood sugar regulated, help schedule and run interviews, be available for whatever pops up, help with social media, keep our team in check, and have a completely flexible schedule for the entire week!" They just laughed and said "Yeah you might just have to go without him for the day, don't think you're going to fill that spot."
Then there's the look on your face the day I told you that we would be interviewing Dallas Smith. The memories of the first Blackjack Billy interview, the Alan Jackson performance, the countless nights in the hang tent, or the day I told the guy from Getty there are only 7 billion people in the world so they don't have 9 billion followers and you died laughing, and that's just the beginning.
But here I was the night before Stampede knowing for the first time ever I was going without you. I had gone without you for a day or two, but this time for the entire event you would't be there. We were living our own lives now so this shouldn't be any different and yet it so clearly was. This was crossing a bridge that hadn't been crossed and severing a tie that couldn't be undone.
So instead of packing or getting ready I stood in the parking lot of a comedy club and as one of my best friends held me I cried, and I fought every urge inside of me to call you, but I didn't give in. I just stood there as we discussed all the options, tried to come up with a plan, and debated me going. Friends tried to talk me out of going and then tried to convince me to go, but ultimately realized nothing they were saying was going to change my mind and ultimately I was going to do what I wanted or needed to do for myself.
The next morning I pulled myself together, I packed my bags and I headed to Topeka, not because it's what I wanted, not because I was excited, not even because it was good for the company (although it was) but because I needed this. I needed to do this without giving into my emotions. I needed to do this for me.
Over and over I repeated "It'll be okay, it's all going to be okay!" People heard me say it all week long, no matter what happened, no media packets? "It'll be okay, it's all going to be okay!" No parking "It''ll be okay, it's all going to be okay" Rain delays? "It'll be okay, it's all going to be okay!" Mud? Gate Delays? Mice? Leaking Ceiling? Power Outages? "It'll be okay, it's all going to be okay!" and the week went on.
There were enjoyable moments, and we got great photos and some amazing interviews. We met some amazing new artists, and really got lots done for the company.
There were moments that truly restored my faith in humanity as people worked together to help get everyone out of the mud and make sure everyone was safe.
And there were some rough moments.... gate delays, canceled sets, poor communication, power outages, heat, long hikes through the grounds, storms, and lots of mud.
And of course there were some emotional moments... Do you know how many bands covered Matchbox 20 this weekend? 6! Seriously 6 different bands covering Matchbox!!!! Do you know how many sang Randy Houser? 2! Including John King who we interviewed, and wrote one of the songs. I struggled, but managed to hold it together through that one! How about Uptown Funk? Just 1 but I was filming when it happened and it caught me completely off guard. And do you think during any single one of those I wasn't instantly flooded with memories??? Of course not! When will they ever stop? Why do they linger on?
Theb there was the moment in the campground when Damien asked from the stage if anyone wanted to hear a love song and I shook my head no, and he decided that was the perfect opportunity to tease me about knowing I was in love or at least knowing someone was in love with me and dedicating the next song to me. I held it together, but the next song he played was Rascal Flatts "What Hurts The Most" at which point I just sat in the grass with tears streaming down my face and let myself feel all the feels. Once it was over I collected myself got several hugs and went on about the night. "It'll be okay, it'll all be okay."
Then came Saturday when you decided to start texting asking "How's it going?" Everything in me wanted to scream at you, "How do you think it's going? Haven't you seen the stories we've put out or at least the stuff Stampede has put out? What do you think is happening when I have an entirely new team and an entirely new venue that's completely covered in mud????" but again I didn't give in. "It'll be okay, it'll all be okay" I had an interview to do, and I did, and again I went on with my night.
Yesterday you texted again saying "Best one ever, right?" I wanted to respond, part of me wanted to lie and say yes, part of me wanted to be honest and say no.... but instead I stayed silent. I have stayed silent for months, and yet you still text. Every time I wonder if it will be the last one. I don't get it, is it the tie you're scared to sever? Maybe we're not living as completely separate lives as we think we are, or maybe it's just the sadness for what used to be.
And just for the record.... I never went in the hang tent and it wasn't the best one ever, but "It'll be okay, it'll all be okay, and it was!"
