Celebrate Brooklyn

People I don’t know at a concert I didn’t go to. Though I believe the gentleman is from Guster. Photo courtesy of Tammylo.I’m crying crying because Celebrate Brooklyn ends this week. I love this event because it involves all the best things in the world: music, cheese, wine, friends and time travel. Once you sneak your picnic items through security and pay the ridiculously low $3 suggested donation, you set up camp on the grass. You are then transported to the 1970s, where the boys all have beards or mustaches or mutton chops (or some combination) and the girls wear vintage clothes or reproductions and sport cowboy boots or no shoes at all. Not everyone follows these rules though, including me, the village asshole, who showed up in a Ralph Lauren polo dress. No, I did not look as hip as everyone else, but it was the easiest outfit to throw on in heat so sticky our Brie baked itself 30 seconds after leaving the fridge.

Once night falls and the music begins, pot smoke fills the air and you time travel again to a concert you went to in college, though this time you’re not as inebriated and the chances of you making out with someone are slimmer (unless you’re the couple sitting behind you, in which case you’re making everyone sick).

Last night I went to a benefit concert featuring TV on the Radio. Money raised will be donated to the Sweet Relief Charity fund, which offers financial support to sick and disabled musicians, and also to the Scotty Hard Trust. Scotty Hard is a musician/producer who was paralyzed when a car crashed into the cab he was in, crushing his vertebrae. Unfortunately, like many artists, he didn’t have health insurance at the time, so of course his medical bills are astronomical. This is yet another example of why it’s absolutely shameful that the richest nation on earth hasn’t yet found a way to offer affordable health care to all of its citizens.
Sarah Mikutel