Soon the conversation between the accountant, the disaster-chaser (really a loss adjustor), the KLM pilot and the journalist turned to rock music. And in no time at all the "worst gig" question had scattergunned "all festivals".

"Remember Knebworth?" said Bob. "Bloody terrible. The bus took ages. The queue to get in lasted for ever. We were miles from the stage. The beer was rubbish. If you went to the loo, a hippy stole your stuff. If you stayed put, you had to suffer Lynyrd Skynyrd. How long was the guitar solo at the end of 'Freebird' that day? Still, at least the Stones were so late coming on that we missed half their set."

Scottish festivals in the 1970s weren't much better. Dave had particularly bad memories of Celtic Park (headliners: The Who). The interminable wait between bands almost caused him to eat his stack-heels.

Keith topped that. "Ingliston," he said. "A festival in a cows' paddock! Or was it a gymkhana ring? I only went to see Talking Heads. In those days, on any bill, you only ever liked the one band. If you were lucky."

Well, that was then. I was at all these festivals and shared my friends' grumps. But while we may have lots of complaints about music today, there can be no doubt that the rock-fest has got better.

Alex James agrees. The former Blur-man - interviewed on page 16 of this festival special - writes in his new memoir: "Festivals exploded in the 1990s. They transformed from beardy bong sessions into a mainstream mass phenomenon, like fishing and football."

Attracting girls was vital, he says. "What was basically a cross between a stadium gig and going camping suddenly became very appealing once the magic of pretty girls was added."

Traditionalists will disagree. The hippies will complain that something fundamental, even spiritual, has been lost (not to be confused with the beer, food and souvenir T-shirts the same hippies nicked). And in the words of the Edgar Broughton Band, they will rant at festival organisers who've gone all corporate: "Out, demons, out!"

But what's so evil about slick organisation and clean loos and beer tokens and burger alternatives and decent security and fast change-overs on the stages and, yes, there's more than one stage and an acceptance by all the best bands that they have to play the circuit?

T in the Park has its own very special, very Scottish character. You can half shut your eyes at other fests and decide you could be anywhere. But with those Perthshire hills in the background, you know you're in the right place. The shellsuited hordes in the foreground, tipping their baseball caps towards the Slam Tent, absolutely confirm it.

This year, T in the Park just got bigger. This year, there are even more Scottish festivals. In this notable birthday year, my friends are happy at last.

"No need to bus it to Knebworth any more," said Bob.

"Not all progress is bad," said Dave.

"Not all progressive rock either," added Keith.