Hello again, it is I. I had a nice weekend, I saw Imagine Dragons in concert and slept very little. I will go more in detail about my experience below.
Let me preface by saying that I didn't think I would be attending the Imagine Dragons concert this year. It was at a massive venue that was time-consuming to travel to and expensive to figure out (more on that later). While not the best vocalist (and songwriter) Dan Reynolds and his small band of two other Dans and one Ben were people that I looked up to when I was much younger. So when I heard they would be in my state, I started doing research immediately. I presented this to my mother, as a teenager does, and begged her to drive me, with me offering for the fees with extra spending money. She refused because of plans she'd made and the budget remaining from my money, and I proceeded to ask everyone else. All hope was lost when my father said no as well. Fast forward days later when I'm in the bathroom (trust me this is relevant), and my mother starts blasting "Enemy" right outside the door. I walk out, ask what she's doing and she announces that we were actually going to the concert. I got very excited. Very. Saturday rolls around, we leave around 3 PM and ride into this campground surrounded by nothing else but a makeshift town only there to please the campers. A small general store, a gas station, and a few other amenities. We make our way through the parking lot, which is just a giant field with dozens of traffic guidance all around shouting at SUVS. We're following a large mumbling crowd when the line appears. I am not overestimating when I say this line went for at least a half a mile. We both decide to be the annoying ones who merge in with the line since we'd never see the concert otherwise. After other teenagers lazily search us through security, we enter. Now, this venue is an amphitheater, meaning it is open to the elements and you're not in a sweaty room with thousands of other people, this is preferred by myself. But this means the organizers really take advantage of the space. Me and my mother walk into a cacophany of merch vendors, temporary restaurants, port-a-potties and bars. So, so, so many bars. You could not go five feet without seeing another booth that said "WINE" or "BEER" or even something more creative like "BEER AND WINE". I get that people get drunk and high at concerts, but good luck driving home. Rolling hills were studded with waffle fry sellers and lawn chair renters- You get my point. For the audience demographic, there were more kids than adults. And every adult looked like either the common Pacific Northwest centrist-liberal man or the suburban mom, this was expected. We make our way down to the general admissions lawn and sit down, and the stage is set before a group of shrubby, brown mountains and valleys. It was perfect. This is when I start to crave waffle fries, and my mother also hungers. We descend into a pit of grills and I decide on something far more interesting to me than waffle fries; soft-serve in a squeeze packet for eight American dollars. +