@ZackTeibloom Thursday of the second weekend at Jazz Fest is always the least crowded. It’s great for getting from stage to stage, but makes crashing a lot harder. I got to the entrance a little before noon and noticed there were about 8 ticket takers and none seemed overwhelmed in the half hour I was scoping them out. I mention this, because usually you can waltz through the out door with no one paying attention, but so few people were going in the fest that I had to sidle my way in.

I leaned against the fence and pretended to be on my phone. OK I was actually on the phone, tweeteing “The moment right before a crash and getting pulled over by a cop feel identical. One happening this second. One happened last night…” The only difference is getting pulled over by a cop is torture and the moment before a crash is an absolute thrill. It took me over 30 minutes to move the 30 feet between the spot where they check your bags and the gate. I needed the exact moment when no guards were looking. I waited for them to change shifts at one point, and moved so slowly, for all they knew I was on the other side the whole time. That’s really the key. I crossed the threshold so incredibly slowly that no one saw me move. Jerry and Elaine know what I mean:

Elaine: He comes out of nowhere and then he’s right next to you.

Jerry: So he just sidles up?

Elaine: That’s right. He’s a real Sidler.

Jerry: Maybe you just didn’t see him.

Elaine: You never see him.

I hope not. I have to do this three more times. For the record, I didn’t sing “Hakuna Matata” but I could use some tic tacs.

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