1. No one was shouting “Eli, my man!” or “It’s Eli, he LOVES us!” (don’t get it?

1. I once read a news story about a biker-dude lottery winner who lived at home with his mom on Long Island and admitted to enjoying a "sponge shot"—after wiping down the bar at the end of the night, his favorite bartender would squeeze the funky liquid into a glass for our hero to down.

1. "Wow, what's with all those people onstage?" my companion asked as we stopped by the MySpace stage where a dirtbag choir was working hard (and in unison) to keep the butt-rock flame alive.

There may be people who only attended the third session of the 2008 Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival, but as a wise man once observed about his questionably unclothed behavior on a famed bathroom floor, "It Wasn't Me." So the remains of Days 1 and 2 -- The French Fry Diet, crap sleep, SPF 45 caked on like Steven Tyler's mascara, temperatures reportedly reaching a singeing 112 degrees, fee

In a better universe, Prince would've been the original alternative rocker. Able to play virtually any instrument in virtually any style -- funk, soul, R&B, gospel, pop, rock, folk, psych, new-wave -- he was a multiracial, pansexual, politically minded, sacredly profane fashion freakazoid who posed in the shower wearing a trench coat and a "Rude Boy" button.

Here are two skewed views of the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival, which opened its three-session 2008 cavalcade at Empire Polo Field in Indio, California Friday (just minutes away from where the late Merv Griffin once held court as the cardiganed billionaire pasha of this desert resort-village refuge, as the sultan of streets named after legendary golfers -- Nicklaus, Palmer, even We