A Quick Refrain

Alright, so, I know I'm in the midst of revealing all things N'Orleans, but after my experiences at Hillside this past weekend, I just couldn't stop myself from writing this entry while it's fresh in my mind.

Hillside, for many, many years now, has done nothing else if promise us a great weekend full of people, music, beer and food. In the grand scheme of things, I will admit to my infancy with the festival, since I've only been a couple of years running; but that in no way should imply that I don't appreciate everything that it stands for and continues to strive doing.

So, what made this year different? What stood out ahead of everything else? The Sausage Brothers? Absolutely. The craft vendors? Without question. Four stages of non-stop music and entertainment? It would be silly to think otherwise. But this year held something extra special to me, and, I believe, to thousands of others who were in the presence off Fred Penner and his guitar.

When I was a young lad, just three apples high in the innocence of my childhood, I remember fewer icons fonder than the kindly, well-spirited, genuinely friendly bearded man who crawled through that magical log and into his getaway in the woods. He sang songs that were catchy in their time, but more than simply being sing-along tunes to make you clap and stomp, they held messages that I think a lot of us loyal viewers quickly forgot. I was reminded of this on Sunday morning at the Lake Stage, where everyone from 5 years to 60 sang in unison, so joyously tearful to the chorus of "I love sandwiches." My childhood rushed back quicker than I could ever have thought possible.

No other I can readily think of tells a story so charismatically and with inclusion, humour, value and infectious smile than that of Mr. Penner. He had a field of strangers connecting over a beautiful message of friendship and the notion that simply being good to each other can make the biggest difference in the world.

And just when the show couldn't have gotten any better, the stage lit up by the presence of Serena Ryder, whose voice filled the heart with happiness and Dan Mangan, whose humbled smile brought everyone to their feet. "Mom," Dan said into the audience, "you better be getting a picture of this." Through the chorus of The Cat Came Back to those 100 tasty sandwiches, Dan Mangan's charming, ear to ear grin was publicly advertising what we were all suddenly feeling: happy.

I have seen a lot of concerts on a lot of different stages in my day and, though there have been more good than bad, no other has so much reminded me that it's great to be a kid sometimes and that those childhood lessons are so unfortunately forgotten and tossed by the wayside foolishly and haphazardly. It reminded me that it's okay to be completely, utterly silly and that making others smile is one of the kindest things you can do for a person.

Sure, you can go ahead and tell me I'm being over the top cheesy and sappy, but, to tell the truth, I'm completely okay with that. Hillside, to me and many others, is a festival built upon the notion of giving back, be it to the environment or each other; and Fred Penner's performance resonated that message beyond the gates of the main campgrounds.

The festival as a whole was, as it always promises to be, fun from start to finish; but to choose one performance worth writing about, there is no other. And so to conclude ever so suiting, in the words of a gentle, kind spirit, to my friends, my family, my one love, and everyone else whose lives have graciously touched mine, the message from this concert I wish to share the most:

always, always remember...."You are my sunshine"

Thank you for reminding me Fred,
-Phil