Kids, I did it. I dragged my dusty 41-year-old self to a music festival. A big one. For those of you who have never heard of the Austin City Limits Music Festival — better known as ACL — it’s a 3-day event in the capital of Texas that opens its gates at 10 a.m. and closes down each night at 10 p.m. There are 8 stages that rotate different bands and artists playing all genres of music. Around 450,000 people attend. This year, among all those young and beautiful attendees, 3 middle-aged women were having the best, most-exhausting time of their lives — ever.
Here’s how we survived it.
These Shoes Were Made for Walking … 23,000 Steps
There was a time back in my 20s when my No. 1 priority for a concert or music festival was fashion. I mean, you never knew when some gorgeous lead singer was going to spot you in a crowd of 50,000 people, make eye contact, and fall instantly in love. So the hair, clothes and makeup needed to be on point, no matter what.
This year, comfort mattered most. Gone are the days of partying all night in heels, going to bed at 3 a.m., and then working a full day the next day fueled only by Dr. Pepper and Whataburger. If I’m going to party for longer than two hours, preparations must be made.
I’m not quite ready to embrace orthopedic sneakers, but I was looking for something breathable and comfy to walk and stand in for 8 hours a day. Naturally, the winner was the official shoe of music festivals everywhere: good ole Tevas. Teva Flatform Sandals, to be exact. Are they stylish? I don’t know, but my mother-in-law said they were cute, so I have that goin’ for me. Anyway, when you’re wondering what to wear to a music festival in your 40s, start with comfy shoes.
I saw so many gorgeous young ladies walking around in clothes that could have come directly out of my closet circa 1995 (daisy prints everywhere) paired with chunky combat boots. While I love the 90s’ fashion comeback, my practical mom brain could only think, “Man, their feet must be so sweaty and tired after walking in heavy boots all day.”
Meanwhile, I was floating around on marshmallowy soles with my toes picking up the autumn breeze. We had a mile walk to and from the car each day because, as reasonable and money-conscious adults, we didn’t want to pay surge prices for a ride share. In my 20s, I would have just popped into the closest blood bank and sold a few more pints of plasma to cover the cost of a ride. But, nowadays, I’d rather save my hard-earned money and sneak in some exercise while I’m at it. With the right shoes, 23,000 steps in a single day was a cake walk.
Pro Tip: Wear Sunscreen and Drink Water
I’ve lived in sunny Texas my entire life, so I’m not sure why I still forget to wear sunscreen. I inevitably end up shocked when I’m torched after a day in the sun. Even in the fall months, my Scottish and Norwegian genes cause my skin to go up in flames in record time. I should have known an outdoor music festival in October would be a danger zone.
And even though my best friend reminded me to put on sunscreen right before we walked out the door, I didn’t. By the time we walked from the car to the festival gate, my shoulders were pink. And, by the time Skip Marley was singing “… every little thing is gonna be alright” during our first set of the day, I realized I was not gonna be alright if I didn’t find some SPF fast.
As fate, or the music gods, would have it, a red-headed man next to me pulled out a spray can of 70-proof. The good stuff. My friend, being a Gemini who never met a stranger, immediately explained to him my situation, and he was kind enough to share. Just two pasty music lovers sharing a kind moment to a reggae soundtrack. I did not forget the sunscreen on Day 2.
Usually, about once a day in the afternoon, I have a moment when I realize I don’t feel so great. Looking back on the day to track where things went wrong, it’s almost always the same scenario: 2–3 giant cups of coffee for breakfast, go-go-go, quick lunch, go-go-go, skip the water altogether.
Oops. There it is.
I stay dehydrated for no good reason, which is inadvisable at an all-day outdoor festival. I packed a 32 ounce thermos in my clear stadium/festival approved bag and vowed to refill it all day. Walk past the IV hydration tent; take a swig. See a red-faced youngster with that “fainty” look on his or her face; gulp it down. Drink an overpriced beer; double the water.
As it turns out, my fear of having to visit the less-than-desirable festival port-a-potties too often due to overhydration was all for naught. Between all the walking, sweating, jumping, and scream-singing I did, my bladder was chill and unbothered.
You Don’t Have to be the Last One Standing
At some point in my adult life, “FOMO” (Fear Of Missing Out) was replaced with “FONGES” (Fear Of Not Getting Enough Sleep). In my 20s, I would have been first in the gate and last out, and I probably would have found an after-party to attend. In my 40s, my eyes are on the prize, and that prize is a late-night snack and a solid 8 hours of sleep on my adjustable mattress.
On the first night, we ducked out midway through the closing act. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little smug sitting in the Jack-in-the-Box drive-thru waiting for tacos knowing there were thousands of people who still hadn’t made it back to their cars.
I was the last to wake up on the third day of the festival. I shuffled my tired bones into the living room to find my friends sitting on the couch having coffee with slightly worried looks on their faces. I guess they thought I’d be mad when they said, “We don’t think we can do day 3.” My response, however, was, “I don’t think I’ve ever loved you two more in my life than I do right now.”
Although Duran Duran was the closing act that day, and nobody on the planet loves 80s music more than I do, “Rio” and “Hungry Like the Wolf” weren’t enough to drag me out there again. Had it been Tears for Fears or Depeche Mode, I would have found a way to reanimate my corpse and sing my way through Day 3. We opted for a leisurely brunch before my friends hit the road back to Dallas. It was a perfect way to cap off the weekend.
No Excuses, Go to the Show!
Age be damned, I had the time of my life. I even got carded for drinks once! After almost two years of staying home and away from people during the pandemic, it was healing for my soul to be in a crowd full of good energy, to spend quality time with my lifelong best friends, and to hear beautiful music. I made memories with my dearest friends that I’ll hold forever, so I don’t regret a minute of it, even if it did take a few days to recover from all the action. The whole weekend was a music lovers dream, but my top 3 moments of the festival were:
- Seeing my bestie, Lisa, (who pretends to be spicy, but is seriously sweet) get teary eyed during Bleachers and say, “I’m seeing one of my favorite bands with my very best friends.”
- Seeing my other bestie, Laura, two-step her way through the crowd while George Strait sang “Carried Away” — just like we used to do when we were 16 years old back in our tiny hometown.
- Singing at the top of my lungs to Dermot Kennedy under a perfect cotton-candy sky at sunset.
What musical moments will you remember forever? Is there a band that could drag you out of the house in your 40s?
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