All Pointes Where?

I'm awakened by the shock of blistering cold metal on my forehead. I have dozed off on the New York City Subway amidst the trek from Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn to New Jersey.

It is Aug. 10: the third day of the inaugural All Points West Music Festival in Liberty State Park, New Jersey and I am on a photo assignment for Rolling Stone. I open my eyes and see two little girls giggling and smiling at me.

I smile back but try not to pay too much attention to them. I have managed an anemic five hours of sleep in the last two nights, which is slowly starting to take its toll on my mind and body. I am not really in the mood for small talk.

Jan Wenner and Ralph Gleason started Rolling Stone in 1967 in San Francisco. It became the guiding force in counter-culture, and is still considered by many as the most respected music magazine today. Being on the cover has become as iconic of a milestone that an artist or politician can stive for. It cemented itself with when in the 1970's, Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show wrote a song titled, "The Cover of the Rolling Stone," which ironically was good enough for them to be chosen to be on the cover.

In 1977, the magazine moved its office from San Francisco to New York City in order to keep up with the changing publishing market and to market the magazine to a younger audience.

Working for Rolling Stone is glamorous in its idealism, but I am not enjoying the sleep depravity this weekend has presented. Photo editing kept me awake until sunrise because adjustments needed to be made in order to send to my editor by deadline.

I dosed off for a few seconds on countless occasions but quickly remembered what I was doing as my face violently hit the keyboard.

I barely managed to crawl out of bed this morning. My feat ache. My legs are heavy, and my back constantly serves as a reminder of the stress it is under from lugging around all my gear. But it is an inevitability. I need that gear and this kind of physical pain is all part of the territory that a concert photographer assumes. I rest assured that there is nothing else I would be doing.

I walked into the neighborhood Rite Aid before I got on the subway and grabbed a poncho because rumor had it that a storm was on the way. A checkout line of more than ten people made me want to forget the poncho.

I decided, however, that it was worth the wait. All I really want is for today to be an easy, stress-free day.

As soon as I switch subways to be on my way to Wall Street, the attendant comes on the loudspeaker and says, “Due to Construction, the last stop on this train will be Fulton Street.”

I don’t think too much of it because I remember that Fulton Street is just one stop before Wall Street. A few minutes later, we come to a screeching halt and as I look up the attendant says, “Everybody off!”

As I step off the train, I ask the person walking next to me if Fulton Street will take me to the South Street Seaport where I have to catch the ferry over to New Jersey. He nods and explains that he and his friend are on their way there too. This news makes me happy because it seems as though I can not get lost on the way.

As I walk up the subway terminal steps, I look up and see thick black storm clouds in between the walls the massive buildings create. "This can't be a good sign," I think to myself. The festival is outdoors. I walk next to the two gentlemen for a few minutes but they are walking too slow. I am on a time schedule and I have a feeling that the clouds are going to open up soon and I don’t really want to get drenched. I start walking ahead because I think I know where I am going.

I walk for a few minutes in the direction I think is Wall Street. I walk towards the water assuming it will take me right to the seaport. I finally reach the water but I don’t see anything familiar. My heart sinks when I realize I am not in the right place. I continue to walk south along the water in hopes that it will take me right to where I need to be.

After about 20 minutes of walking, I can clearly see that this is not the case. I realize that I must have made a wrong turn somewhere. Intense frustration starts to set in and lack of sleep doesn’t help. I quickly decide that I've had enough of the aimless walking and start to walk in the direction of the nearest road in order to flag down a taxi.

This is not an ideal situation because it is going to cost more money than I counted on spending today, but I decide it has to be done. I see lots of joggers and families walking along seemingly enjoying themselves. I wish I could say the same thing.

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Osprey - JournAlum - The Lumberjack - KRFH/610 AM - Travel

ALL POINTES WHERE?