Friday, July 20, 2012
Jamboree in the Hills 2012 technical schematic
What makes Jamboree in the Hills so special? I've given this some thought and considering the big event is finally upon us, I've resurrected some age-old Jamboree observations. This top 10 list should serve as a general guide for obtaining a better understanding of what Jambo's truly all about.
* The musicians - Yep, one of the most routine conversations (other than Ford vs. Chevy or Skoal long cut vs. regular) revolves around who's up next on the main stage. It's Sunday afternoon. Ah, Scooter McGee and The Taverns are on at 3:10. Or maybe it's the hottest new country act The Lawnmowers w/ special guest Keith Porter. They're good, too. The sad truth - nobody knows who the fuck these people are. What used to be recognizable line-ups are now 1 or 2 headliners proceeded by a bunch of nobodies.
* Much discussion revolves around what constitutes a true Jambo veteran. "I been coming here every year since 1982. Never miss a Jambo. I schedule my vacation every year for mid-July." This naturally segues into what constitutes "real country music." I prefer the old school guys... Waylon and Janie Frickie. You probably like that new pop, sugar-coated country stuff... Kenny Chesney and Faith Hill. That ain't real country. You wouldn't know cuz youz a young pup.
* The inevitable discussion of inclement weather. Remember last year. "It was hot and sticky... like my balls. We got all sunburnt. It was worth it though. Toby Keith tore it up. Remember the mud slides from 3 years back. Yep, Little Jimmy got all that broken glass embedded in his hip. He was a trooper though. Didn't go to the emergency room til Monday morning. Camped straight through and drank it off. He got a "JAMBO" tattoo over all the scarring. Looks damn good."
Year 2012 will be fondly remembered as the Jambo of torrential downpours. Or as West Virginzers and Bell-Dirty residents would say, "God was laughin' so damn hard, he was pissin' all over the place."
* The daily running of the rednecks - Come 6am we do what's right. While all the panzies are still sleepin, we stayed up all night and got extra drunk. More injuries. Mostly twisted ankles and a face full a mud. If you return to the campsite covered in mud, you'll be honored with the equivalent respect afforded to any military veteran.
* Discussion of beer purchase and transportation. "Oh, we bought two different kinds of beer. Charlie only likes Miller Lite. He was pissed off last year when all we had was Bud Light. But Busch Light's good enough for the rest of us. We don't really care. It's all 'bout the music and hangin' with friends. Yep. Good country folk. That's what Jamboree's all about. We got the beer from a gas station on the West Virginia side. Across the river they sell beer anywhere, anytime, cept after 2am on a Saturday night. So we dumped everything in this old bathtub and put these here wheels on it. And we decorated it with these confederate flags and some Michelin Tire bumper stickers." By the way, get rid of that impostor Obama! He's a Muslim!
* The strange desire to be photographed with musicians you've never even heard of. "Oh, that's my cousin Tisha. She's with the drummer from The Rubberneckers." And every once in a while, one of the performers will head out into the crowd. Way to embrace the ordinary folk! Newsflash: if these people walked by you at Walmart, you would not hail them as country music superheroes. Instead, you would snidely remark, "Look at Tex-Mex in his tight chaps and douchebag cowboy hat."
* The 'ol Jambo Bait and Switch - This one's a classic that never grows stale. Basically, a hot chick is hovering around an empty lawn chair. Above the chair is a sign that read "FREE LAP DANCES." Eventually, some 20 year old testosterone laden guy thinks... "Ah yeah! Time to get me some free tail." Just as sits down, a large, sweaty, shirtless, mammoth-breasted man emerges from nowhere and starts bumping and grinding the fuck out of the innocent lad. A chorus of dudes yell, "Yee-haw. Ride 'em cowboy." Eventually, the monster fatso grows exhausted. The poor kid's beer spilled over long ago. Disoriented and covered in sweat, he staggers to his feet, feigns some disjointed laughter and wanders off in the distance. For the remainder of his life, he'll live with the painful truth. He was Sanduskized on a Morristown hillside as a bunch of partying rednecks were screaming "CHOO CHOO!"
* Any sexual activity that takes place in an on-site port-a-jon is properly referred to as "The Jambo." Whether it be full-blown intercourse, a blow job or the ill-advised muff munch (from a positional, directional perspective of course). Cast aside your rusty trombones and Cincinnati bow-ties... The Jambo is a well-received act of fornication. You will not only be praised, you will join an ever expanding list of local heroes and heroines. Many will even sign and date their names with a black sharpie underneath the Port-a-Potty manufacturer (Johnny on the Spot, Dear John, Crapper Trapper or the more conventional Port-a-Clean.)
* The bizarre inclination for every man, woman and child to suddenly wear a cowboy hat. All year long, you never see anyone don a cowboy hat. Even the natural gas and oil guys from Oklahoma and Texas don't wear them. But for some reason, as mid-July approacheth, everyone joins the East Ohio rodeo circuit.
* Hostile man with a squirt bottle syndrome. This is a disease that afflicts about 10% of the male Jambo population (usually ages 18-25). Basically, it's for every guy that has ever been rejected or screwed over by an attractive woman. They will exact their revenge at Jambo. For an entire week, they will arm themselves with a super soaker or some kind of militia knock-off squirt gun. And they will violently target any woman's breasts and/or genitalia. As they spray the woman (whether she wants it or not), they'll typically yell "WET T-SHIRT CONTEST" or "ITTY BITTY TITTY COMMITTEE." Justice has been served, Jambo style.