It’s Dillo Day! Get up early, head out to the Lakefill and start enthusiastically… carrying eight-foot metal trusses.
For most students, Dillo Day marks a day-long festival of alcoholism and marathon partying. But for me and the rest of the Mayfest crew, Saturday was a marathon of intricate organization, risk management and fetching the artists whatever their musical hearts may desire.
Want to see how a sample Mayfester’s Dillo Day compares to your own? Let’s take a look at how my day went.
5 a.m.: Wake up! Curse/applaud myself for thinking of setting the alarm clock a good ten feet from my bed.
5:45 a.m.: Run to the Allison ATM, where an exec member (who has already been working for an hour) picks me and other Mayfesters up. Drop phone in bush; consequently almost miss ride.
6 a.m.: Arrive to Lakefill and begin unloading the three semis full of sound and lighting equipment. The trusses are heavy, but sun is shining and the field still has grass.
7:30 a.m.: Take scenic golf cart tour of the shoreline in search of merchandise tables. The lake is beautiful. I am nearly convinced that I should become a morning person.
8 a.m.: Fold/organize vast piles of t-shirts available for sale with the rest of the Promo team. Who knew that my extreme perfectionism would come in handy?
9:30 a.m.: Broken Social Scene’s tour bus is too tall and the band is stuck on the west side of the El tracks. Where in Evanston is there a bridge with 13-foot clearance?!
10 a.m.: Receive call from Third Eye Blind’s merchandise rep. He’s here and wants to set up camp. But wait … our supply of tables is running low. The Production Team rations them out carefully, and the wary rep sets up a makeshift stand near the stage.
10:20 a.m.: Go to drive Broken Social Scene’s tour manager and bus driver to the Hotel Orrington.
10:21 a.m.: How the hell do you start this SUV?! When did turning a metal key become uncool? Why would a company make a car this high-tech? Better question: Why does Northwestern have a car this high-tech? I think my tuition may have bought this.
11 a.m.: Back on the Lakefill, I grab some water and notice a man sitting on a couch in the hospitality tent. He looks strangely familiar. How do I know him? We make awkward eye contact as I try to figure out why he looks so familiar… then I realize it’s because he’s Ted Leo.
12:30 p.m.: Join Third Eye Blind merch man in his little homemade booth. This is a good spot for this show; I have a clear view of the stage and I can talk to the crowd. Students are very slowly starting to trickle in. That oblivious parent on the field might want to take their small child and run.
1:30 p.m.: Awkward drunk kid quote of the day: “You look familiar. Have we hooked up?” No. No we have not.
2:30 p.m.: Mud wrestling/awkward sexual tension begins directly in front of my table. People are more interested in throwing watered-down dirt at each other than they are in buying this merchandise. The Third Eye Blind rep is not thrilled.
4 p.m.: Realize I am in love with Ted Leo. I consider taking a golf cart to go buy a ring somewhere, so I can propose.
5 p.m.: Red Bull has officially become the newest and most important food group.
6:30 p.m.: Watch Broken Social Scene from ground in front of the barricades. You can tell these guys are just having the best time on stage. I, meanwhile, am getting a massage by sitting directly in front of the subwoofer.
7 p.m.: Clear stage from Broken Social Scene. Somehow I am trusted to take their guitars offstage. Sweet.
7:20 p.m.: Short dance party break on the lacrosse field.
7:35 p.m.: Shit! We lost Broken Social Scene’s merchandise. Way to be aware, Karen.
7:40 p.m.: … and they still give me a free CD? Forget Ted Leo, I love Canadians. We find the merch under a table.
7:30 p.m.: Opt to sit back during Cool Kids. A Broken Social Scene roadie discovers that if he pokes my sunburn, it turns white. He finds this repeatedly amusing.
8:45 p.m.: Drive Broken Social Scene members to the Hotel Orrington. I know it’s been a long day now because I have a van full of an amazing band and all I can think about is how much I want to use a real bathroom instead of a Port-a-Potty.
9 p.m.: The crowd here to see Common is HUGE. In the dark I can barely see the back, even from the DJ booth. Seeing crowds this big makes all of this worthwhile.
Post-Common ~ 2 a.m.: Take down all lighting and sound equipment we put up this morning, including digging cables out of the Woodstock-esque mud pit that used to be a field. My back will never be the same.
2:15 to 3 a.m.: Find ride home, shower, collapse in bed. My shoulders are burnt to a crisp, my back and knees are screaming at me, my hands are raw and the sun will be rising soon. The Dillo tattoo on my neck will not come off. My day has reached the 23-hour mark, and I am functioning in a DM-esque haze.
And I love it.
Forget the parties: I am definitely crewing again next year.