Relax your mind, let your conscience be free. You're now chillin' with your crew at BFD. Crack open a Pabst Blue Ribbon, pick up your cooler, even feel free to take off your pants as you navigate your way through a haze of smoke, an aura of debauchery, and a culture of good will drenching the landscape more than the mud from the torrential rainstorms inching up your legs. It's Best Friends Day in Richmond, Va. where the only word you won't hear throughout the day is, "no." Your day will become whatever you want it to be, just make sure your inner circle is there to enjoy it with you.
Waiting in the multi-mile-long backup to get in, the double entendre of BFD immediately sets in. Best Friends Day is a big fucking deal. Seeing the masses for the first time as you walk up the hill is a sight to behold. Live music hits you, the crowd roars, flesh is exposed and the mood only intensifies as the Heavens open. The aquatic activity is only a brief respite between musical performances as lines form to do back flips off rope swings into the pools with slides and trampolines.
After a quick dip, it's time to catch some of Richmond's hottest acts. Gull, a mask-wearing, jam session aficionado who plays drums and guitar at the same time, had spectators swinging from the rafters and mosh pits knocking over speakers. Before the mood could subside, No B.S. Brass Band took the stage with a trombone-laced cover of "Thriller" that had the entire crowd re-creating the dance in the mud. Take the girl off your shoulders, grab a bratwurst, and get back to the cooler for more brew. Six beers, a basketball game, and a water volleyball match later, it's time to step into the cipher and string some rhymes together about what you're feeling at the moment. Grab another beer, snap a few photos with some people getting naked, then step back and take in the paradox of the sun coming out just in time for sunset.
Waiting in the multi-mile-long backup to get in, the double entendre of BFD immediately sets in. Best Friends Day is a big fucking deal. Seeing the masses for the first time as you walk up the hill is a sight to behold. Live music hits you, the crowd roars, flesh is exposed and the mood only intensifies as the Heavens open. The aquatic activity is only a brief respite between musical performances as lines form to do back flips off rope swings into the pools with slides and trampolines.
After a quick dip, it's time to catch some of Richmond's hottest acts. Gull, a mask-wearing, jam session aficionado who plays drums and guitar at the same time, had spectators swinging from the rafters and mosh pits knocking over speakers. Before the mood could subside, No B.S. Brass Band took the stage with a trombone-laced cover of "Thriller" that had the entire crowd re-creating the dance in the mud. Take the girl off your shoulders, grab a bratwurst, and get back to the cooler for more brew. Six beers, a basketball game, and a water volleyball match later, it's time to step into the cipher and string some rhymes together about what you're feeling at the moment. Grab another beer, snap a few photos with some people getting naked, then step back and take in the paradox of the sun coming out just in time for sunset.
Future plans are on the mind as the after party is the next triumph. The beer is gone, so it's time for us to be as well. We pack up the stuff and make our way back to the truck. As I dry off my borrowed pair of duck shorts, the crew hops in the back and I know I have experienced what I am feeling right here and now. These are the times you miss, because these are the days you live for.
Appropriately with Wu Tang's Raekwon in town, I too got with a sick tight clique and went all out. Fuck the kitchen, Bugs was in Richmond.
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