1 Proteus 2 months ago A little belated, and a lot brief, being my tired-old-man impressions of a day in the life of Abbey Road on the River, 2018 edition.We know where we all live, right? Held for the second year on the Hoosier side of the Ohio River across the re-purposed pedestrian bridge from Louisville in the newly refurbished Big Four Park...in the re-gentrifying downtown of sleepy Jeffersonville, Indiana...Abbey Road on the River featured dozens on bands playing on 5 or 6 stages over an (official) 5-day period."Official," I say, because while the scheduled performances began before noon on Thursday May 24 and didn't end till 10 pm Monday May Memorial Day 28, truly committed Beatle fans (like our own Paul "FF909" Overly and Olivia Anne "Oliva Anne" Morris Fuchs) - and the tireless Joey the C - started gathering with the faithful as early as last Tuesday. I understand the socializing among Abbey Roaders and the bands is part of the point of the event, the same kind of extended family reunion as Gretsch Roundups, with impromptu late-night sets and singalongs and no doubt slumber-party all-night rap sessions. But, you know. I'm essentially asocial. Too many people gathered in one place mess with my brainwaves.From its early incarnation 17 years ago as a Beatles-only event, Abbey Road on the River has morphed slightly to major in the music of the last half of the sixties (and maybe a year or two into the seventies) with a heavy concentration in Beatle studies.Which is to say, it treats the Beatles reasonably enough as the core of the pop music of that period, but casts its nets wide enough to take in the musical environment the Beatles both helped create and reacted to. And that makes for a satisfying smorgasbord of increasingly historical (and historic) music, brought to life for your listening, dancing, and rememberin' pleasure.I yield to no one in my admiration for the Beatles, and the back half of the 60s certainly encoded my musical DNA, so such a fest should be a feast for me. And so it might be...except that it involves a list of things I increasingly can't tolerate: • driving (basically, I prefer not to go anywhere, anytime, for any reason). An easy 90 minutes through the verdant rolling green of southern Indiana is as nice as driving gets, but it's still driving... • hot, humid weather (the only thing worse is hot, dry weather), almost guaranteed for Memorial Day along the Ohio • direct sunlight (by nature I'm a cave-dwelling albino mutant and too much sunlight literally makes me ill) • crowds (the roiling psychic turmoil cranks me up and wears me down) • sonic chaos (one audible band: good if the band is good; several audible bands: bad no matter how good they are).All of which is my excuse for not having made more of this opportunity, despite the event being in my figurative backyard - my roundabout way of admitting I only made the scene on Sunday. Twas all I thought my fragile constitution would bear. (Even under the best of conditions, five 10-hour days of multiple stages of ANY kind of music seems more Woodstock than Woodstock, and more stimulus and excitement than the human frame is built for.) Thus Cheryl and I drafted our handyman John (an exuberant music lover) and pointed Quest the Wondervan toward Louisville, arriving a bit after noon.What follows in the way of belated reporting can't be a comprehensive overview of this pan-phantasmagorical rocking roll circus of a love fest - just some highlights I most enjoyed.