could you handle three days of your favorite band? the traveling, the hotels, the food, the drinking, the smoking? the passing the time between actual live music, the people . . . and let me restress that, the people. dealing with more people than you used to want to care about for three days, all while spending money for it all that frightens you because you keep looking in your wallet wondering where is it going. the following mornings, where you somehow find yourself in shitty waffles houses, really not caring for the bright bright lights. phish, i am almost done with you.