Woof

So, my friend called in her favor that I owed her. She filled in last minute for me on a volunteer position at the jazz festival I worked on back in March so I knew I would be summoned sooner or later. You will never guess what I have gotten myself into. Seriously, you will never guess, so I will tell you.


Wait for it.



Wait for it.



Are you ready?






I am going to be a stage hand at Woofstock.




Yes, it is as awesome and hilarious as it sounds.

You see, my friend serves on the board for the Humane Society, and at her last meeting they were discussing this one particular band that will be playing (Yes, there are bands at Woofstock. And dogs. Lots of dogs.), and how this band requires a reliable volunteer who has some experience with bands and who will remain sober through the entire shift. (What kind of a world do we live in when remaining sober through your shift is something that needs to be verbalized?) My friend immediately thought of me, what with my recent experiences of dealing with lots of bands (I worked as assistant director on two local festivals here since I have moved here), my obvious reliability and my ability to remain sober while on the job. (She knows this because we used to share an office when I worked briefly at a nonprofit here managing the "Angel Fund," and I never once came in drunk, not even once!)

So, it's a four-hour gig on a Sunday afternoon in September at a fundraising music festival put on by the local Humane Society to raise, well, funds to do important stuff that needs to get done for dogs. And, if it isn't obvious, all friendly dogs are welcome at Woofstock, so this should make for a really interesting afternoon.

Maybe I can borrow Baby (the friendliest sweetest dog you'll ever meet, who happens to be a Pitbull) and bring her too. Only time will tell.