Lawnparties: A trip to the zoo

Welcome to Lawnparties! Welcome to the Zoo! Get your tickets at the front entrance and your pretzels to the left; remember to stay hydrated in the sun. Don’t forget to check the schedule before you leave, so that you can plot out your course for the day. Personally, I’ll be bumping with the tigers at Terrace first, just to get my energy going. After that, it’s off to the main events.

I wedge myself between my peers, who are all wearing a shade best described as “flamingo pink,” and push my way through the florals and pastels to get to the front of the crowd at the biggest shows. I can’t resist the free refreshments being handed out along the way, and I take a moment to tear off my sunglasses and wipe that trickle of sweat off my nose. If I have time, I might even stop by the mini water park set up at Cap for a quick splash to cool off. It all comes with the territory.

Last year, as a newbie to Lawnparties, I wasn’t sure if I found all of this horrifying or humorous, despite the fact that I practically leaped out of my shoes when I discovered what bands were coming. Wale? The Roots? I was skipping all the way to Prospect Avenue, glowing in my new dress and beaming behind the gaudiest, cheapest shades I could find.

Unfortunately, I failed to anticipate the animalism of it all. Between the boys peacocking their clothing with double popped collars and the girls fanning themselves between drinks, I was beginning to feel like I had arrived at the wrong show. Everywhere I went I was jostled left and right by the student body, which was lunging at the stage like a pack of hungry hyenas. By the time I managed to push myself into the crowd at The Roots concert, I was deliriously gulping for the little fresh air that was left, wafting between the sweat and stink and beer.

Such is the nature of Lawnparties. We don’t go so that we can see the most talented bands play the best music. We go so we can roar at Dirt Nasty as he shouts obscenities into the crowd or for the Jell-O shots being handed out between songs. I never made it to Wale that day. I hardly had the energy to stay for the full set of The Roots at Quad. I came in expecting polar bears, and I ended up getting monkeys instead.

This weekend, I’m going back out to Lawnparties with a different set of expectations in mind. I plan on immersing myself in the experience, growling at the acts with the rest of the crowd and flailing my hands with wild abandon. And yes, I’m still going to get to see my favorite bands: Cut Chemist and Chiddy Bang are very much on my list of acts I won’t pass up. Who cares if I don’t know the lyrics to “Black and Yellow”? I’m more than happy to make them up, just as long as doing so gets me where I want to be: having a good time.