My Glorious Whiplash
Going from death to life via a music festival.
Welcome to Mia’s Queue, a free newsletter for “humans in the loop” who care about conscious culture in a tech-driven world. I love exploring how taste and curation facilitate self-discovery and create deeper connections with others. When I’m not exploring what that means in my own life, I chat with an undercover tastemaker infusing creativity and wonder into the world. This edition is a personal post about going from my father’s deathbed to a music festival and what it taught me about appreciating the now.
In the middle of my dad’s passing, I had a persistent, annoying, and highly inappropriate thought: Boy, am I sad to miss the Portola Festival this weekend.
Portola is an electronic music event in San Francisco, featuring only the most stacked lineups you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Even 25% of the roster would greatly satisfy me, and that’s before you mix in the frolicking with friends and the come-as-you-are spirit of the whole thing.
As things unfolded in NYC, there was a natural break in the grief and family time when it felt OK to bust a move. I realized I could make the second half of the festival’s final day if I got an early flight and found reserves of energy. I knew I could do it. Electronic music is my medicine, and I wanted to shock my system. I wanted to experience going from extreme sadness in an ICU to over-the-top euphoria in one swoop. I wanted to feel the difference between death and life quite literally.
My goal was to make Barry Can’t Swim’s 5:30 pm set at the festival. Miraculously, I did it. My flight was flawless, and we found a parking spot around the festival — true signs it was “meant to be.” It was golden hour when I arrived, starting to get chilly on the pier, and people were already sliding into the chutes for Disclosure, Justice, and Fisher. Amid this electric environment, my mind ping-ponged back to quiet, sullen places like nursing homes and hospitals. The juxtaposition was jarring. What was this alternate universe, so sparkly and bright and loud? Look at the vitality of these people! Don’t they know we’re all going to be dead soon?!
I felt curious and grim — I couldn’t stop seeing people as temporarily animated corpses — but most of all I felt profoundly present. I picked a time and place and dropped into it with 100% intentionality. It was inspiring to be in a scenario where people were just there to enjoy themselves. It was a relief to surrender my emotions to the music. I felt proud that I was doing something for myself even though it might seem “inappropriate” to an outsider.
Watching people do drugs and drink around me felt almost comical. “Wait, why do you even need that?!” I thought to myself. “It’s already so bonkers and amazing out here!” I understand how substances can enhance live music, but the freshness of my experience and my new perspective made them feel extraneous.
I realized that genres like house and techno are so good at approximating heartbeats! Pounding. Rhythmic. Steady. When I felt like my energy might be waning, the music said “I gotchu” and became defibrillator paddles. I was reminded that the body is a fallible machine and will always do what it’s designed to do, from responding to beats to drawing breaths.
At the hospital, I learned that hearing is one of the last things to go. I found purpose and comfort playing my dad’s favorite artists, The Beatles and Paul Simon, from a phone placed next to his ear. If I’m lucky enough to be able to control the conditions of my death, I hope my loved ones will put a phone on my chest and play The Cure, Oasis, and The Chemical Brothers. Just the thought makes the process sound less scary.
I’m also hoping that my most precious live music memories will come back to me when I need them most. Maya Angelou said: “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” I can’t tell you how many of my “how-people-made-me-feel” moments come from friends at festivals and concerts. Whether we laugh our tails off at something silly or savor a communal experience together, I can’t help but feel that this is it — these are the moments of our lives.
How lucky we are! The sheer privilege of having the time, resources, and health (!) to spend our free time this way is an unbelievable bounty that I will never take for granted again. Live music is a LIFE FORCE turned up to 11, the active opposite of the place I had just come from. What a joy to experience it with all the senses lit, receptive and ready to engage in the gifted space anthemized by Fatboy Slim:
Right here, here, here, here
Here, here, here, here
Here, here, here, here
Here, here, here, here
In my queue:
📡 Let Him Cook Radio
DJ sets in a Marseille kitchen?! Sign me up. I can see my son Strider (turning 18 today!) and I enthusiastically cooking to this drum-and-bass set dotted with mainstream hits and hyperactive energy. Bonus points for the French language practice. C’est magnifique!
👸 Female Icons 50+
There’s a moment in “The Substance” when Dennis Quaid’s character tells Demi Moore’s character that it’s all over when you’re 50. It was the perfect depiction of how the patriarchy suppresses women. I think “The Substance” did more to help me wake up from this brainwashing than little media before. I’ve been celebrating women over 50 all week in my entertainment choices:
• Demi deserves an Oscar for “The Substance.” So much respect for being bold and vulnerable.
• Halloween marked a return to my A.H.S. viewing, this time “Coven.” (So bad it’s good?!) Big cheers for Angela Bassett, Jessica Lange, and Kathy Bates for their singular presence, poise, and talent.
• The underrated Roisin Murphy (formerly of Moloko) proved to be an absolute legend at The Warfield last weekend. Here’s the set she played.
Kim, my queen.
🦁 “The Lion Tracker’s Guide to Life”
Lastly, a simple book with a powerful message about finding your purpose and inner compass. Eye-opening and calming. Thank you,
, for this recommendation! (You can learn more about Andy and his work in the #31 edition of this newsletter.)Thanks for reading! Tell me what makes you feel most alive. I’d love to hear it.
Mia’s Queue is a newsletter about and for “humans in the loop.” Each edition is full of culture-forward recommendations hand-picked by authentic people who savor the hunt for the Good Stuff, always strive to be their best, and know that sharing is caring. Thanks again for being here!
Love this, Mia! I remember one of the first music festivals I ever attended having a moment seeing thousands of bodies move as one to the steady heartbeat of the music and thinking, "THIS is God." Such a powerful post. Excited to check out your recs!
I'm so grateful I was able to dance with you that night. It was beautiful! 🫀✨🪩