The human circus at Voodoo

By Andy Sipe

Being Halloween weekend, lots of festival-goers are decked out in flashy costumes. Unfortunately for them, they are too worried about their appeal to get into the pit and dance, unlike the ones who actually go at it without a care in the world. There are also plenty like me, who prepare for such a festival adventure with nothing but an old T-shirt, dirty pants, and grungy shoes, which they never expect to wear again since they will most likely be lost, torn, or drenched in cheap alcohol. But different priorities breed different styles, and all are welcome at this eclectic event, each adding his or her own spice to the mix. And, honestly, when I'm not dancing my ass off in front of a band I'm diehard about, I love looking at the flashy kids in their handmade wares modeling for me.

Because of some kind of sponsor deal, there is free Red Bull everywhere, and I’m scared to see the after-effects of it on these people, especially since free water is nowhere to be found. You can’t even bring water into the park unopened if you are not a vendor. In this heat someone is bound to dehydrate him or herself into a seizure.

Back in the VIP tent, I can't differentiate between the tattooed outlandish band members from the chronic roadies. The only perk of lounge access that I can see are the elaborate upgraded port-o-potties. Some scantly clad women wander into the VIP section looking to get close to big name bands, but find only small fry like myself.

Things start heating up at the festival around 4 pm on Friday. Under the relentless beating sun and cloudless sky, bands are transitioning smoothly and the swelling crowds chase them from stage to stage in a musical ping-pong match. Skin is being fried all around. The soft deceiving mud is going to sprout mud wrestling soon, and I’m caked in it already.

I’m starting to regret working the festival, as you have nowhere near the freedom of pay customers, who can wander around aimlessly all day long. However if you can't afford a ticket, and only want to see one or two bands and don't have a hot date lined up, it's a good alternative. If you can get a VIP job even better. There are tons of friendly freaks back in the VIP lounge to mingle with.

At night the stage lights up like Vegas, and the crowd is one big shadow, one big being, moving and dancing to the beat of the music, and no one worries what anyone else is thinking of them because no one can distinguish anyone else. Besides, the heat of the day, the endless walking, the intensity of the music, and probably a little too much cheap beer, helps ease the anxieties of the individual. I predict by the time Rage comes on one will have to move around just to stay standing on those aching feet.