Flashback: Life Is Good

A couple of days ago, I looked down at my most-worn pair of boots and noticed that they looked weird. They used to be a nice polished grey, and after four years of frequent use, they have a cool vintage weathered look, but looking at them, I noticed that the toe was discolored an odd khaki-tan. Upon closer inspection, the tan turned out to be dust and dirt, and I realized it was the residue from a trip out to Canton, MA, back in September for the Life is Good festival. (I should start cleaning my boots.)

The festival was a two day event but we only went on the second day to see Guster and Jason Mraz. Getting to Canton from Boston meant taking the commuter rail for the first time, which was a 20-minute non-adventure, and to get to the 40-acre farm that hosted the festival took another bus ride. But not just any bus ride. On September 12, 2010, I rode my very first yellow schoolbus. It wasn’t as magical as I’d been led to believe it would be (a friend of mine calls me Miss Frizzle because of my hair, and because we’re not friends), but I was still pretty excited. I won’t lie, though: I’ve been more comfortable sitting in coach on a transatlantic flight. But that was one more thing off the bucket list! Another thing I can check off? Seeing Guster.

The first Guster song I ever heard was “Amsterdam”, and it was the gateway drug that triggered my addiction. Or something like that. I put Guster on repeat when I was packing for college, and whenever I listen to “Careful”, I’m immediately transported back to my room deciding which useless thing I should leave, and which I should bring before ultimately packing both. I packed so many useless things. But Guster will forever be the soundtrack to my last summer living at home, and I mean that in a wonderful way.

Unfortunately their set at Life is Good was short, but it was also wonderful. There’s nothing like standing in a field with a couple hundred strangers scream-singing and counting down “4, 3, 2, 1…”. My boyfriend had to explain to me what “Barrel of a Gun” was actually about, though. I won’t write it out, but let’s just say it’s a euphemism, and that the song makes so much more sense now.

The farm was the perfect place for the festival. Even though Boston isn’t a particularly “Big City” city, getting away from it for an evening was a nice change of pace. And getting away from it to see Guster was a pretty great excuse.



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