Justine
APPARENTLY, WHILST under the influence of several glasses of wine last weekend, I agreed to go to Electric Picnic this year. Actually not only did I agree, I was the one who suggested it, cajoling everyone else to come with me.
‘C'mon! It will be great craic! We'll get a campervan and stay the whole weekend. We'll have a ball!’ This was said to my cynical, older, more sober brother at a family gathering who knows me well enough to not believe the Hail Mary out of my mouth when I'm jarred. The other older brother just looked on, smiling knowingly. ‘She'll regret this in the morning!’
The fact that I don't even really know what Electric Picnic is, proved irrelevant at the time. A weekend away without kids, at a music festival was about as much as my brain computed. The fact that we don't own a camper van was neither here nor there! Sure we'd get one......somewhere - Himself knows a fella who knows a fella who has one. The fact that I've never heard of the vast majority of the line up was also not worth mentioning.
I googled the line up and pounced on the first band I recognised. ‘ Pet Shop Boys yaaaaay!’ I HATED the Pet Shops when I was a teenager. All that poncing about in shiny suits and singing without moving a muscle. Not my thing.
Then I saw Simple Minds. Now I do like Simple Minds. Would I pay €270 to see them? Eh that would be a no! But in my pleasantly inebriated state I thought it was all a brilliant idea. I harangued my sister in law into coming although she was dubious. “I'm not camping,” she was adamant.
‘Sleeping in a camper van is not camping,’ I scoffed. Me who has never slept a night under the stars in my life. She still wasn't sure. She likes her creature comforts and this is the woman who wore high heels to Slane to see Robbie Williams and had to be carried home! ‘I'll supply a weekend's worth of vodka,’ I told her. ‘Ok I'm in,” she replied. Easy pickings.
MEANWHILE THE brother was warming to the idea, because unlike me, he had actually heard of most of the bands and wanted to see them live. Himself on the other hand, loves an oul shindig any time, any place, anywhere and was relishing the thoughts of driving and staying in a campervan. A campervan that was still just an elusive picture in my over active imagination.
So we shook on it. We were going to Electric Picnic and nobody could back out. Himself was organising the camper van, I was organising the drink (what else?!) and the rest would take care of itself.
I woke up the next morning feeling a bit woolly headed. Great night, just wasn't too clear on the particulars. Didn't remember singing Danny Boy, which apparently I did with great gusto, nor did I remember going to bed.
Himself was grinning like a maniac. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘Are you all set for Electric Picnic?’
Oh God! Sometimes I just wish I'd learn to keep my mouth shut!