by Proxy

WOGSTOCK
(by Proxy aka Burhead the webmister)  

Now there's a concept. How did it all start?

There's this little electronic enclave of John Prine fans that try and get together every Monday night. Their spiritual leaders appear to be a crazy red-hair lady named PMSred and a kindly gentleman named WOG. WOG evidently indicated that since John Prine was playing a date in Indianapolis and that there was home/land available in nearby New Castle (only 47 miles by crowback but an eternity on a dark, rainy night) that a gathering should be arranged. What to call it? Well it was to take place on the 30th anniversary of WoodStock so….

From those first maybe, what-if, how-to emails a structure developed that soon incited the faithful to swear attendance. A logo contest was conducted, tee-shirts manufactured, advance ordering, map making, direction giving, mania swept the internet. Should we take the kids? Why not, a festival is a festival and WOG says there's a pool at the New Castle spread. Besides they are Too Smart and Phred and they've got our blood (and gold) inside.

Although we live in Davenport (big couch in the muddy Miss), Iowa the Wogstock journey began in picturesque Ste Genevieve, MO where we had an earlier gathering. We made it and only had two wrongs on the Main Street gaff within New Castle. I just figured that it was a test of faith!

We were met by the ever pleasant, hugely accommodating WOG. Faithful already in attendance were Redbeard, Ricky, Briny, Jimmy, and Nutt. Other "common ground" folk continued to filter in through the evening and everyone took WOG's instruction to "make yourselves at home" to heart. I was amazed at the "disconnected" TARA's dad and friend and how well they fit with the faithful (cause they really were!) Redbeard and Ricky have made me want to go to Memphis to eat and just to see them again. Briny is perpetually informative and entertaining, but he's gonna have to get his own kids cause Phred and Too Smart are quite occupied. Jimmy is a deep and friendly soul. Bear just shines for us all.

And the talent! Space Monkey's crew landed, pulled out their music and hemp weaving supplies and just dazzled the throng. Carole can tell a story better than most anybody you'll ever meet! Man, add a campfire and you could have been anywhere in time you wanted to drift to. All the meet-n-greet, buy-a-shirt, get-a-bracelet, swim-a-little, stake-out-a-spot wore on till the sun was coming up and folks decided they might just need a nap. Tents were popped and Carole wanted in the worst way to be "saved" from herself in the pool. I kinda listened (in case she actually fell in), but I'd found THE chair. Everyone had their spaces picked and floated off for awhile. About too-early, God decided that I needed a shower (straight down, hard, fast rain) so I leaped outa the chair only to hear Redbeard and Ricky hoot a greeting. Being true southern gentlemen, they had "taster's choice" water at the boil and offered. I had nothing to give in return but the bottle of JD that I thought would be needed at some point. They understood that this could be breakfast and Redbeard soon had the rooster call going to invite those that were able to join in the new day. Briny joined for a sip and the morning story telling. Hands down, my favorite was the trapping story, followed closely by "cornfield Ricky and the stuff that killed Elvis."

The day rolled on with added attendance culminated in the arrival of the Frain Train. All day it was "meet-n-greet, buy-a-shirt, get-a-bracelet, swim-a-little." Group picture time and estimates of attendance achieved consensus at 47. There were Rainbows and Kathy47s with a smattering of Mr.and Mrs. Teddy Bears. There were a lot of parallels between the varied career of John Prine himself and the "pasts" that you could catch glimpses of during Wogstock. There's a reason why this group is so loyal.

The caravan starts with only a few understanding where the heck Butler University was and what a Summer Theatre could be. Imagine a caravan of vehicles doing rural Indiana two-lanes through small towns attempting to maintain integrity and not get lost. I never considered myself to have a bladder control problem, but then I never imagined that 47 miles could last so long either. We were meant to be therefore we were, but not without angst and I'm sure a twinge of resentment from PMSred for losing contact with the convoy.

We arrived, entered, did-some-commerce, fed the younguns and settled into close ordered seats just behind the sound board (where's the binocs? No fear, Jimmy has them!). I gotta agree with Nutt that we ENDURED Los Lobos. Can't decide whether it was the sound mix, or just the "get-off-the-stage-where's-JP?" but I've heard them better and seen them more enthusiastic.

The break and then JP and the group started. Lot's more enthusiasm than in Peoria or Davenport. JP was really hacking away on his acoustic ax. The lighting was good and the sound was awesome even though JP signaled for his mike to be lowered early in the performance. Phil was radiant and could easily carry a show himself. My favorites are always when the band takes a break and JP goes solo. I know he had to hear Bear making her offering! Too late we moved to unoccupied seats in the FOURTH ROW where you could tell that JP was truly enjoying himself in this show. Maybe it was the 100 WOGSTOCK shirts that shown back with their bold white lettering (we can think so!). The post-encore shuffling for the coveted talk-to-JP was hampered somewhat by the local security. Then there's WOG obviously negotiating from a position of "look-at-all-those-shirts-people-have-come-from-across-the-country-and-PMSred-is-here" that resulted in "passes go first then others ten-at-a-time" edict.

Then the elements took over (but we did get a great show!) and ceiling tiles flew while I looked for TOTO and wondered about Kansas. Soon it was apparent that there would be no JP face-to-face on this occasion, but we all had each other. I pronounced that I was happy enough to drink myself into a stupor and we launched ourselves into the torrent to convoy up again. There aren't many darker nights in my memory and those roads looked a lot different (even before the WOG-U-TURNS). We did finally get "back-to-Wogstock" and found people there we'd lost who beat us by two hours…but whatever…the fest continued.

We'd lost Redbeard and Ricky who had to work the next day to leaving from the concert. Tent city was a near shambles with windows left open on the great day we'd left. Only Briny (he's really more together than you'd ever think) and Mr. and Mrs. Teddy Bear endured outside sleeping. The rest just "talked-the-show" and slowly drifted off to their memories. JD cast his spell on me and I'm sure others stayed up longer thanks to my snoring. The next day was gathering-and-good-bye as we all left for our homes. Well…there was also the faux wedding, but there's others that tell that story better. There was more in Indiana those days than just a buncha fans. It was special. Phred and Too Smart know it, and I learned to. It'll be great to do it again, but will we ever get better than the first annual. Special people and special times. Thanks to everyone for letting the "chauffeur" in.