Hopping out of my truck, the intense sunshine and humidity of rural central Tennessee in early June slapped me right in the face. It was last Wednesday, and there I was, pushing my way through numerous gates and security guards, hundreds of volunteers and tens of thousands of concertgoers, all part of this past weekend’s installment of Bonnaroo — a music and arts festival as iconic as it is chaotic.

The second annual Cold Mountain Music Festival will return June 8-9 to the Lake Logan Conference Center. 

The festival will feature top-notch musical talent. Friday’s schedule will be The Kenny George Band (4:30 p.m.), The Broadcast (5:45 p.m.), Jon Stickley Trio (7 p.m.) and Mandolin Orange (8:45 p.m.). Saturday’s schedule will be The Broadcast (1 p.m.), Dangermuffin (2:15 p.m.), Tyler Ramsey (3:45 p.m.), The Steel Wheels (5 p.m.), River Whyless (7 p.m.) and Shovels & Rope (9 p.m.). The event will raise funds and awareness for Lake Logan and Camp Henry.

Perhaps not unique in that the reasons for both its popularity and its controversy are intertwined like the limbs of two grapplers struggling to gain the advantage, dwarf wrestling provides jobs where they’re scarce, boosts local economies with events and promotes positive examples of how dwarfs aren’t so different from their average-sized peers. 

I was thrown into the deep end.

When I was 20 years old, I became a substitute teacher. I was still in college, but I was also looking to make some extra money when I was home for Thanksgiving, Christmas and the subsequent spring and summer breaks. The pay was OK, but the schedule was very flexible. The administrator would call me up the night before and ask if I was free to take over whatever was in need of adult supervision: social studies, science, physical education, English, etc. 

It’s the only way to eat breakfast.

Two eggs, two slices of toast (cut into four triangular pieces), a side of meat, a side of hashbrowns or homefries, a cup of coffee and the day’s newspaper alongside. It is, quite literally, the American Dream in a meal.

When two-thirds of your full name encompasses two-thirds of arguably America’s greatest songwriters, it’s pretty apparent you’ll follow suit — in life, and in art. 

It seems like a race against time.

As a longtime arts and entertainment editor, I find myself in the backwoods and along the backroads of Western North Carolina, always in search of a story. Sometimes the subjects are folks I come across over a cold beer at a local watering hole. Sometimes they’re a random name and address with a short description of what they do sent to me via physical or electronic mail. On many occasions, I’ll be simply driving and something or someone catches my eye in the distance. 

You can’t help but smile.

Watching old clips of “On The Road” with Charles Kuralt, you find yourself in a headspace of familiarity. Not so much nostalgia as it is a trip down memory lane, when folks actually looked forward to watching the news, or at least those “CBS News Sunday Morning” episodes where Kuralt was as much a part of an enjoyable breakfast as bacon, eggs and a strong cup of coffee.

Many Fridays a small group of longtime Canton residents meet up informally at the town’s historical museum on Park Street as soon as it opens in the morning to peruse the artifacts and talk about the town’s tomorrow, the town’s today and the town’s yesterday.

As they do, they sometimes come to the topic of the historic Colonial Revival-style building located just across the street since 1932 — the aptly named Colonial Theater. 

Somewhere around central South Carolina my mind began to drift.