One of the craziest things I saw at that festival was a naked hippie get into a fight with a “bro.” It was sad and funny, and kind of changed my entire outlook on life. Keep in mind that this was my first festival experience. I was 18 years old. I was convinced that all I wanted to do was go to festivals for the rest of my life. In the end, I’ve made that a reality, but at the time, I thought I wanted to live on the other side of the stage.

It was Saturday morning in the campgrounds and I was enjoying the sights, smells and sensations of Shakedown Street. There is nothing like your first walk down Shakedown. It was sensory overload to my juvenile mind. In every direction, there was something vying for my attention, and I loved every second of being a part of this wild circus.

[Moon Taxi bassist] Tommy Putnam and I had just seen this Nashville band [Llama] play, and we were on our way back to our campsite. We kept talking about how we would play the big stage one day. Our spirits were soaring when we were stopped in our tracks. There was a large group of people gathering and, naturally, we were curious as to what was about to happen. So, we walked up to see what was going on and saw everybody surrounding these three guys. They were arguing in a very heated manner.

I wasn’t sure what the argument was about, but I assume it was over some nefarious deal. One of the guys was average looking. I would call him a bro—cargo shorts, festival T-shirt, sandals, visor. He was getting yelled at by these two archetypal hippies. They were long-haired, flowery, barefooted and beautiful. The hippies were both wearing dirty blankets around their shoulders. They were absolutely pissed at the bro for some reason. Instinctively, I sided with the hippies. I immediately assumed that the bro had done something very bro-y to upset the harmony here.

But that was not the case. It was the hippies who were the aggressors in the argument. I thought, “What are these peace-loving creatures doing? Shouldn’t it be the bro with the bad vibes here?” The entire scene was turned on its head. Something was wrong. And things were about to get worse.

As the argument escalated, the crowd grew. There was an audience now, and the two hippies cornered the bro like pack hunters. All of a sudden, one of the hippies threw off his blanket and charged with all his rage, swinging in the air. He was completely naked. He then proceeded to pound on the bro until he bloodied the guy.

The fight was eventually broken up, but not before the damage had already been done. What was broken was my fragile, eggshell mind. I had never even considered that utopia could have a dark underbelly. But my bubble was burst. My innocence was misplaced.

What’s the point of this story? Never assume that you know the nature of the world. I thought I knew who the good guys were in this struggle of existence. Maybe the hippies were justified in their bare-assed fury. I will never know. But you can’t judge a book by its cover. We all hold on to our ideals as long as possible but, eventually, we have to throw off the dirty blanket of illusion to see the reality dangling right in front of us.