Welcome to the Twilight Zone.
To you, the festival is almost over, but because of zany deadlines, I’m writing this before the first chicken-on-a-stick has been sold.
Every year, I pack this mid-Riverbend column full of my hopes and aspirations for the festival, knowing that by the time it’s read, they will have already been proven to be well-founded or preposterous.
For example, how is the new wristband system working out?
After decades of employing admission pins, organizers have shifted over this year to plastic bands that must be scanned at the gate going in and — before 10 p.m. — coming out.