It wasn't so long ago that organisational skills were valued only by teachers and businessmen. These were the stuffy authority figures who set timetables, wrote reports, pressed shirts and fired your dad. Their regimented lives set the groundwork for awful things like human trafficking and financial derivatives, although their biggest crime was making everything fucking boring.
A seriously bored bro. All of these rad, festival-free pics, are from the wonderful Internet K-Hole.
On the other hand, the degenerates who couldn't colour code a set of crayons, who arrived late to everything, who drank, fucked and partied until 5 am on a Tuesday were the ones who treated advanced bookings, personal hygiene and general organisation with pathological skepticism. Unsurprisingly, these same people birthed Punk, the Glasgow kiss, ASBOs and - with a little help from rich mates - festivals.
Sadly, their spirit as been ripped out of their rotting chests by eviscerated bank balances and age. The momentum that kept them alive has slowed to a trickle, and the slack had to be picked up by gainful employment and corporate sponsorship. It's why Glastonbury now costs £200 a ticket, and why disorganised layabouts can't go anymore. What's worse, ‘friends’ disciplined enough to book it 9 months in advance are now considered cool, when they should be dismissed as traitors to youthful spontaneity.
If, like me, you're missing Glasto 2014 because the thought of planning your life more than 3 hours in advance makes your head hurt, then follow this guide to help stave off the FOMO and get you through the constant Insta-cunt-updates.
Watch it on TV, Drink Loads
Although it may sound like torture, watching the festival on TV isn’t a bad idea. While the constant presence of 6 Music DJs may make you want to put your head through the screen, you do benefit from a roadie’s eye view of the stage and a rockstar’s access to alcohol. Your first bout of go-to fun should be a drinking game. If you drink every time you spot...
A drivetime DJ in a trilby = you will be fucked
A bucket hat = very fucked
Teen with 700 festival bands on their wrist = totally fucked
Now that torrential rain is expected, if you hear a phrase similar to “no rain can stop Glastonbury’s spirit,” “the party’s still going despite the mud,” or other equally dim platitudes, then you have to finish your drink.
Listen to the Music
If you’re one of those weird people who doesn’t take drugs, is over 40 or - horrifyingly - straps their fucking rugrat to a Baby Bjorn and dances around the stone circle, then your primary interest is probably the line-up. Weird. Anyways, if you couldn’t get a ticket but still want the vibes, then why not spend a tenner on Spotify Premium (about 1/2000 the price of Glasto) then rinse Dolly Parton’s back catalogue for the next 48 hours.
I don’t recommend this if you’ve also followed Step 1 (drinking excessively), because if you’re shit-hammered and listening to Coat Of Many Colours simultaneously, then you should probably ring 999 and have them arrest you for a domestic violence charge right now. In fact, get off this site, you reprobate.
Organise a Party
You may think all of your mates are at Glasto, but they’re not. There are other people out there, like yourself, who turn a putrid shade of green at the thought of the future - and wouldn't even book a wedding in advance, let alone a festival. To them, next week is uncertain, next month is mysterious, and next year is practically fucking Blade Runner. These are the people to hang with this weekend.
If you think it’s not worth it because they’ll steal all your booze and gak, you’d be right. But years from now, when you’ve missed your seventh Glastonbury in a row, these wastrels will be the people to invite you over. And you can steal it all back.
If you’re feeling motivated then maybe you could try. But these days you need the skills of Seal Team Six and a willingness to get stuck in the village of Glastonbury should you fail. Seeing as it’s full of shops selling crystals and dream-catchers, I wouldn’t recommend it.