The thing about Phish festivals is that they can have a bit of a Choose Your Own Adventure aspect to them. Sometimes you go to the art, sometimes you have a long, life changing conversation, sometimes you get trapped at your tent. You could ride the Ferris Wheel or the rail. Mondegreen had these new pods in the camping ground that people enjoyed. They're all valid but sometimes, just sometimes, you get lucky and find something seemed aimed just at you.
This happened to me at Big Cypress. I was wandering in the center area in the late morning of 12/31/99. Some people came through in suits. They were T.I.M.E. agents. Their goal was to make sure that everyone had the correct time. After checking to make sure that my watch was ok, they deputized me, seeing how I am The Timer, saying that they were trying to stop an evil criminal who had a Time Bomb. They showed a photo of him... a polaroid of a stick figure.
Mondegreen was especially notable in this aspect as it had three different art exhibits in different locations. There was The Museum of the Moon that just did one thing - a giant, detailed sculpture of the Moon with purple glowing trees - but did it so well that people got stuck staring (and howling) at it for hours. It also was fun to reference "going to the Moon," or say, "We are at the Moon," or - as I observed during "Pillow Jets" - telling people, "The sounds sucks on the Moon."
There was the Portal Potty - OK fine Nova Heat - that you entered through a portapotty door and ended up in a place with a cool, trippy movie projected on the ceiling. There was the Heliograph for late night DJ sets and you could help build a city hall out of cardboard boxes.
But far away from the others, only really visible to those who camped on one side of the venue, there was another one: The Cerealist Bowl. While the Moon was one thing, the Bowl had dozens. There were actors and a bar and weirdness. There were Froot Loop mobiles and a windchime made out of forks and knives and clocks everywhere. Clocks? Why clocks? You see, there was a challenge, and once again it was Timed.
There was a building called "For God's Sake" and there was a sign on the door around it. It said:
An invitation only experience. To enter, receive an invite from The Time Keeper.
Wait, you're offering a Meow Wolf type game and you are doing it with someone with the intriguing name of "The Time Keeper?" I'm all in!
I ended up spending a lot of time in the Cerealist Bowl as a result. The first day I saw a lizard person yelling at people and saying, "I don't like you!" It turned out his wrath was directed at other actors but I was worried for a moment. There were the swans and the birds and the man who seemed to delight into being turned into human cotton candy; "There's a fetish I had never heard of before," said the fan next to me.
Unfortunately, the show was about to start and I had no clue how to begin on my quest.
Day 2 gave me some more leads. I had a conversation with someone who had been inside the building. He said that the trick was to talk to the actors but two of them refused to use any words, one was holding a typewriter and would run away from anyone who tried to talk to them, and the third would speak only in riddles.
Apparently I was not the only one invested in this game. During the show that night someone came up to me as I was writing down a show note complete with the time it happened in the set. "Are you," he started to ask, and I knew where this was going. "Are you the stats guy?" "Are you The Timer?" I get that a few times a show and it's usually fun because my quasi-fame does not make it out to the real world. I was prepared to say yes but then the question finished. "Are you The Time Keeper?" I had to stop and say, "In this instance, no. I am not actually the person you want here." That happened a few times and it amused me to have a sought-after doppelganger on site.
It took until Saturday to get a lead. It was getting harder. The other actors who were also doing amazing things seemingly got a little tired of being role players. Mention the name and they would lose all interest in interacting with you. There even was a painting put up explaining that you have to let them find you.
I was about to give up when there was a breakthrough. I was discussing this with a fan instead of an actor, and I got some information. The Time Keeper, I was informed, was "a griffin with yellow hair." They gave quests - he had to scream, "I eat it dry!" over and over again, the "it" meaning cereal. He actually got stopped by a nervous security person who thought he was on something and almost kicked him out of the festival due to this exchange "Are you going to stop?" "No!" "Why are you doing this?" "I was told to." At that point, it clicked, "Oh, The Time Keeper," and he was sent back on his way - and depending on how you did it, you would be either invited in or given more quests.
The Time Keeper was described as a fey, as a trickster god, as someone to cross at your own risk, but perhaps would provide a reward if only you could encount... Wait! That's her!
I walked over to her with some trepidation. Would I be handed a quest? Would I leave this realm forever and be sent to a world that had its own adventures, but probably wouldn't let me hear the show? She was a bit swamped, "If you don't have a mission, I have not the time for you now."
I told her that while I didn't have one of her missions, I had one of my own, for I was also a creature of time. By then she had heard about me and told me to stand by a fence and she would return. I waited for about 10 minutes while she handed out missions and then we chatted. Despite the fears of what would happen when The Timer met The Time Keeper, the world didn't end as we discussed matters of Time. We took some photos - she posed us, not me - and led me into the holy sanctum, which turned out to be a sake bar.
We had a fun chat there both in and out of character. At one point she grabbed an hourglass, flipped it, and let me know that she would be keeping her eye on me. But time indeed, was of the essence. My afternoon Cerealist allotment of minutes was ending.
She did give me a parting mission on the way out. Ask three people, "What is time?" and "Do you think it is real?"
On my way back to the Heliograph I asked people at random as I passed. The first response was mystical. "Time is an illusion." "It is not real." The second did believe in time and actually gave me the formal modern physics' definition of what time is. The third? As I started to ask, I realized that I had accidentally stopped Patrick Jordan. He was concerned about making sure the show was running well, so to "What is time?" "It's just about time!" was his response. It's true! Showtime was mere minutes away! I better leave the realm of faerie and illusion and run to our spot.
Post show, we had to head out that way anyway so after a long time staring at the Moon, it was time for another stop at the Cerealist. We first hung out and saw the insanity that was going there, the trumpet player who declared singing to be a sin... but then encouraged us to sing. Giant glowing objects. People in costumes everywhere. But there was also the Time Keeper of Fae.
I showed her my clipboard so she could see why I am The Timer; she asked if that was a gift for her, but not this time. She gave Mel and I a mission, to find one person and talk to them about something for a minute. I had to discuss time and Mel, well Mel had to sit in silence. Bending the rules a bit and deciding that nothing required the person to be human, she asked a tree if she could sit for a minute. The tree didn't object so it was done.
That was the kind of logic that impresses a creature of magic, for we both got to enter the sanctum. Alas, we had just missed Mike.
I did decide that presenting the Goddess of Keeping Time with a gift was the wise thing to do, since I was her loyal subject. I swung by Sunday morning pre-show with a copy of my book. Both how I became The Timer and why it had a downside is explained there. While waiting for her to have a chance to accept it, I saw her dish out tasks.
She was indeed being a capricious creature. One group must have run afoul of her, as they were all, "We did your tasks!" but she needed one more. "You've seen the swans right? You know what their favorite thing is right? It's balloons. Find the balloons and bring it to them. Just be aware that they are ornery and might not show appreciation."
"Can you at least give us a hint as to where we can find these balloons?"
"No!"
Others were more pleasing to her Royal Timing Highness- there definitely seemed to be a theme that the less you were focused on getting entrance to the bar, the more likely it was that you would win it - and they got tasks that might have been frustrating but would still be memorable. One group had the first person chosen to go to every table and talk excitedly to them about something (I forgot the topic alas), and the other three were to follow and apologize for his actions, e.g. "We're so sorry. We don't know what got into him. He's not usually this way." A second group were split into 3 pairs. "You are now contestants on The Newlywed Game and need to go to the tables and share stories that you have. Let the table decide who wins." "But we're not a couple." "You are now!"
I got a minute alone with the Keeper, "Sorry, I'm out of time but I'm going to collect some more now," she informed those around her, and signed the book. I left the Bowl for the final time (storms prevented a post-show alas) and was amazed at how well this exhibit worked. This was the most time I had ever spent in the art areas at one of these and it is a large part of what I will remember from Mondegreen. I got to see her slip in and out of character and was amazed at how good she was at keeping it going for four days. Thank you Time Keeper for making Mondegreen be a great Mondetime.
Epilogue:
After the festival ended, I went to visit my mom in Baltimore. We got Chinese food and this was my fortune, "Allow yourself time - you will reach success." I guess that was the theme of the week. I allowed time into the equation and I had the time of my life.
