I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking the same thing
I was thinking when my partner first proposed the idea of taking his 9 year old
daughter to VeldFest, Canada’s largest EDM festival.
“Are you crazy? What about all the drugs?”
What I should have really done was stop myself right there.
Because it’s the question I get asked the most when I tell people I’m into EDM
and raves (and have been since 1990).
I will tell you, kids, the last hard drug I dropped was in
1991 when my friend gave me some halcion, and we weren’t even going to a rave.
We just went out for dinner and then next thing I knew…well that’s for another
time. But it was the one and only time I ever did anything harder than weed.
When I rave, I go for the music, I go to dance, I go for the pretty lights and
glow sticks, and I go to have fun.
So why was I being so hypocritical? My partner swore up and
down he would not take his eyes off his daughter, and that he was pretty sure
she would have a good time and not get into trouble. I said he would be
responsible for her everything, including bathroom visits. I was going to be
bouncing back and forth between the main stage and the tent, and would be lost
in my own little universe. Without drugs.
So our family outing (minus the boy child who loves EDM more
than I do) was to Veld. Two days of dance, beats, and whatever else they could
cram onto a field full of 70,000 plus people. Two other things to take into
consideration: my stepdaughter is 9 but looks at least 13, thanks to early puberty;
and her father dresses like a backstage security dude at the best of times.
As we were lining up for our admission wristbands, I was
giving her the low-down: security would be feeling her in those places where we’ve
always told her people can’t touch you, but don’t tell that to the security
women because it is okay if they touch you there because they’re just checking
to make sure that everyone is safe, blah blah blah.
They didn’t even search her. They just let her in.
I had to empty out the contents of my purse and reassure
them that my plastic bladder was a water bottle. Twice.
Then we walked past the rows of portapotties. Luckily, she
was familiar with the portapotties that usually stand on fields where she does
her team sports. But here, it was a team sport just to find a clean one. So we
gave her the low-down: always make sure she was with one of us, and always go
to the very end, no matter how badly you have to go. Even at the end of the
night, there's always a clean one at the very end.
The other thing we did which is important is we had a
meeting spot, in case we got separated. Luckily there was a huge Dr. Pepper
truck at the Dr. Pepper booth to the side of the lighting/sound board. My
stepdaughter is smart enough to not talk to strangers, so there was one less
thing for us to worry about. And in a field of 70,000 people with the nearest
cell tower at least 5 km away (the field used to be an army base with an air
field, so no cell towers were permitted on site), it wasn’t as if we could call
each other. Never mind the fact that she’s too young for a phone! I won’t tell
you how many flashy pins and glow sticks she lost, never mind an actual
electronic device. No phones!
So we took her from the main stage to the tent and back and
forth and back and forth again. We had some food. I had a wobbly pop because I
wasn’t driving. And nobody offered us drugs.
In fact, the Veld Fest crowd, both this year and last year,
were made up of some of the coolest music fans I have ever met in my three
decades of concert attending. Yes, THREE DECADES. Not only were most people
cool with her being there, and gave us compliments on bringing her, some dudes
shared friendship beads and bracelets with her, showing her the handshake, some
girls danced with her and talked to her, and some girls showed her where the
clean washrooms were in the early evening after everyone had eaten.
Of course, in a crowd of 70,000, there are always going to
be some assholes. Of the assholes who made themselves known to us via their
stink-eyes, only one had the gall to say
“Aren’t you afraid of the drugs?”
And this was a festival where the headliners of Kaskade,
Steve Aoki, and Deadmau5 have made their views known about the drug-addled
reputation of the music they make. Not everyone does it just because Madonna
says they do.
Think about this: you’re just about to hit the age where
peer pressure starts to come into full effect. Your dad, whom you still think
is the coolest dad in the world, takes you to a show where grown-ups (because
when you’re 9 a 20 year old is a grown-up. Stop laughing people over 35!) get
to go to listen to music that makes you jump around and be happy. And while the
sun is going down and you’re happily jumping away, you see police officers,
paramedics, and other security personnel carrying people who have collapsed out
of the show. Sometimes they’re laughing, sometimes they’re crying, sometimes
they’re puking. And there are other people not being carried out who are
sitting down with their heads between their legs while their friends try to
give them water. Or they just outright puke on the grass behind you. Or they
stare at your glowsticks and try to take them from you because they are the
coolest glowsticks ever.
And when you ask your dad and stepmom why all those people
are getting sick, and if it was from too much sun, they point and show you the
trail of smashed beer and cooler cans everywhere. They say in a matter of
fact/nonchalant voice, “They took some drugs and it made them get that way.” And
you ask “Will they get to see Deadmau5?” and the answer is “No, because they’re
too sick.”
Now if you ask me, that’s the best anti-drug message you can
give a kid. “Why would you do something that would take you away from all the
fun?”
Of course, that’s always been the motto I’ve lived by. Not “you’ll
get in trouble” or “just don’t”, but “why do something that will make you miss
out on life?”
The long and short of it is that she had a blast, she had
more energy than 80% of the kids in their cardio prime did, and everyone was
very very cool with her being there. Does she want to go back next year? Of
course she does, but she’s not sure if her friends could keep up with her
parents…
