See Here

If you're going to Kentucky, and if you're going to camp there, and if the camping is taking place on a vast expanse of former commune known as the Frog Farm, and if it's hot July, here's what you need to know: the tent should have windows.

Past that, you don't need to know nothin'. Not what time it is, not where you left your cell phone, not what's happening next. Please don't bring a portable anything, or watch the news, or - heaven help you - email. As you've figured out by now, (assuming you have the normal, manageable amount of ego) the modern world can withstand your dropping out. If it helps set you in the proper mood, tell yourself the harsher version: It doesn't matter. It's boring. And you are just so over it.


This, on the other hand -



- well, this is something new. New like knitting, skinny pants, and God himself. Everything old, again. Not that I would ever recommend such things purely on their popular appeal. You'll have to see for yourself, and that's why you need a tent with windows. That, and hot July.