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And So I Found Myself in Jamaica


We landed in Jamaica on a hot, humid Sunday evening. As the plane descended upon the island, I thought to myself: “of all the places in the world…!”. I’m ready to admit that Jamaica had never been on my bucket list, but now, thanks to Hanson, I was about to spend a week in Bob Marley’s country. I’d never been a huge fan of reggae, although of course I have an original cassette of ‘Legend’ kicking around somewhere. But really: I don’t smoke weed (hate the smell) and I like cold climates. I burn in the sun. The things I do for this band…

2016 was my second ‘round’ of Hanson Holiday Camp. My first one was in 2015, when it was held in Cancun, Mexico. It was the one with the bad weather, the wind, the ‘sand in my crevice’, the unforgettable boat trip during which people threw up overboard (not me) and the stunning desert island show. I'd known then, from Day 1, that I’d want to repeat the experience in 2016. 

I’m back from Jamaica now, and while most of my friends are already planning for 2017, I’m not so sure. I feel conflicted: after 4 days of Hanson concerts I should be trying to place a kidney on the organs market to fund the next trip. But I’m not. What happened? The following is an attempt to make sense of my own experience. Read at your own peril: you’re welcome to disagree with me, but remember that we all come from different perspectives and points of view. This is mine.

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