The urinal in a bag is back.
This weekend marks our annual live music binge, V Festival 2007. And the coverage here on DoS just gets better and better. V Festival 2006 was the first to benefit from mobile blogging, with these video clips added over the next few days. My annual mobile phone upgrade means picture quality will be vastly improved this year, but that’s just the start.
I’ll be emailing video direct to my YouTube channel [post festival update: 29 videos now on YouTube here]. If you know what RSS is you may subscribe to DoS, otherwise just check back at this page as links to new posts will appear in the comments below [post festival update: 19 blog entries listed here].
Anyway. Last year I got slagged off by self proclaimed trendy student Isy who reckoned I’d failed to enter into the festival spirit, she kind of anticipated Glastonbury organiser Michael Eavis (age 71) who reckons festivals need more teenagers.
I’m far from convinced. Childhood is different today. When I was a kid, a jeep was a military vehicle. Today it’s something mums use to ferry spotty teens to school as they listen to fantasy Emo on their iPods (e.g. ‘No one’s gonna take me alive / The time has come to make things right / You and I must fight for our rights / You and I must fight to survive’). Who’s the coolest in this scenario; mum or the Emo?
In a BBC interview earlier this week, one of the people behind this report revealed many kids are surprised when forced to discover just how quickly they can walk to school. On my ninth birthday I secured the right to walk to school on my own… and all the way back again. To have your mum waiting for you at the school gates was a humiliating assault on your independence (but I did agree to avoid the council estate where the glue sniffing Nazis lived).
Times change and Eavis expects too much of today’s kids who are simply too fat and lazy to create a youth culture of their own. I reckon we 38 year-olds are just carrying on as we always have and that we’re happy to share. But nobody appreciates lectures on ‘festival spirit’ from students with silly middle class names.