Well, to answer my musing of the last post…why no, as a matter of fact, Lil Wayne is apparently incapable of doing anything on anyone’s time but his own.

In the three-year history of this festival, no act has ever been late – not even by a few minutes. It always impressed me that the artists maintained enough professionalism to be on time and the organizers insisted on a tight schedule.

So who does Lil Wayne think he is?

His scheduled start time was 3:50 p.m. Around that time, a roadie came out to test a guitar. Not a good sign.

At 4:10 p.m., Wayne’s DJ casually strolled out and set up his turntable.

At 4:20 p.m., Wayne’s crew of assorted hangers-on appeared to deafening cheers, then did nothing but saunter around the stage while the DJ played Wu-Tang Clan songs.

        Photo credit: Timothy S. Griffin

Five minutes later, they left…and THEN the crowd started booing. What? These people weren’t bothered by any of the nonsense unfolding BEFORE this point?

I, on the other hand, was quietly seething and already calculating how this would mess up the schedule for the rest of the day. Sorry, Mr. Dylan, your set will now be late because Lil Wayne couldn’t be bothered to get off the tour bus on time (which, as one of the photographers planted at the front of the stage verified for me as the reason for Wayne’s tardiness: there WAS no reason).

So, finally, just past 4:30, His Highness appeared, walking onto the stage in a tight white T-shirt, black jeans, shades and a University of Texas baseball cap as if he had all the time in the world.

Without anything resembling an apology, Wayne started rapping along to the pre-recorded version of “Full Clip,” his jeans already halfway down his thighs.

When he then pronounced, “I’ve got three things I’ve gotta tell you,” one might have expected “Sorry I made you wait” to be one of them. But nope.

“One: I believe in God. Two: I ain’t [bleep] without you, so make noise for what you created. And three: I ain’t [bleep] without you, so make noise for what you created.”

Repetition is so…clever.

So Wayne stalked the stage, grabbing his crotch and telling the 90 percent suburban-type crowd to “get your [bleeper bleeping] hands in the air” about every 20 seconds.

“Duffle Bag Boy,” “Birdman” and “My Daddy” – during which he looked at the sky, made the sign of the cross and then gave another order to, “Get your [bleeper bleeping] hands in the air” – had the audience of about 9,000 bumping body parts and hooting appreciatively.

As his scheduled end time crept up 20 minutes later, it would have been expected that Wayne get booted off stage, so the next act, The Black Keys, could get their equipment organized and perform at 5:15 as planned.

Again, nope.

Wayne rolled through “Fireman” (and, for the record, every one of these songs is essentially the same song – clip-clop beat, plinking synthesizer, nonsensical lyrics) and a particularly vulgar “poem” about his affinity for a female body part (and really, it is incredibly difficult to offend me) before someone apparently told him to shut up and get off the stage.

With that, he announced he was going to “blow ya alls minds,” the radio friendly hook of “Lollipop” began and Kanye West – on deck for tonight’s closing slot – raced out to rap a few verses.

Why the fashionable rapper was wearing a designer backpack is anyone’s guess. But hey, at least we know he’s here.

I did make it down to the other stage in time to see Iggy Pop, plastered in sweat from head to toe and, as usual, displaying his unbelievably ripped torso (dude is 61!!).

Pop had just bounded into the audience, cheerfully singing the refrain of “My Idea of Fun” (“My idea of fun, is killing everyone) and grinning like the punk maniac that he is.

After climbing back onstage, Pop looked at the crowd and yelled, “I don’t know what to do!”, presumably because his set was over, but the fans wanted more. So, in true Iggy form, he slammed his mic stand into the stage a few times, scampered off, and returned moments later for “Electric Chair.”