He got home fairly late last night. From his high spirits one might have been pardoned for thinking that he flew all the way back home without the assistance of a plane. He had the most marvelous time, playing, lecturing, performing, being interviewed for radio and newspapers, reading and signing. He sold all of the books he brought with him, the bookstore sold more and he sold Postmamboist tee shirts.
He hung out with so many of his favorite musician amigos, and he was taken care of very well. The festival assigned a lot of the acts a 'caretaker,' a young local volunteer who drove you around, guided and carried, and was just generally as helpful as the caretaker could be. The best thing about them, V. said, is that these volunteers were so clearly have a wonderful time doing what they were doing. His volunteer was named Grady, and was in heaven, as one night he listened to V., Brian Lynch, Yunior and Yosvani, discuss straight time vs. swing time.
He hung out with Eddi Palmieri a whole lot all weekend too. He has only one regret -- he didn't get to Joe Ely's show, which was playing on the other side of the festival while V was on stage with Brave Combo, performing "Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly."
Vaquero also got a new summer straw cowboy hat.
All in all it was his idea of heaven. A musician's heaven.