Flogging Molly

Yesterday, we attended the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival at Golden Gate State Park.  The festival is free (thanks to the generosity of now deceased Warren Hellman, the billionaire investor and grandson of a Wells Fargo Bank founder).  Each day, for three days, a host of bands play on six stages set up throughout the Cyprus trees and grassy bowls in the park.

 

During the course of the day, that girl and I saw The Brothers Landreth (we have previously seen them on PBS), The Milk Carton Kids (one of the musicians is a born comedian), Lera Lynn (she sounds like Chris Isaack as a female), Joe Jackson (remember the hit Is She Really Going Out With Him?), and Boz Scaggs (no explanation required if you are near my age).

We closed the night with Flogging Molly.

I heard estimates that anywhere from eighty-thousand to one-million people attend the event.  There were tens upon tens of thousands of people gathered for Flogging Molly.  What I mean by people is young, slam-dancing, beer-throwing people and one young man with a large Sesame Street sign held above the sea of people.

I have been listening to Flogging Molly—and other modern Irish Folk bands for many years.  That stuff makes me, and everyone else, move.  I had a great time surrounded by youthful thoughts, youthful intentions, and general mayhem.

Posted is a photo of Flogging Molly on the Swan Stage and a photo of the swell of people beyond where we stood.  If you have never listened to Fogging Molly, try the song Float.

--Mitchell Hegman