Addendum
I happen to forget one of the most important things concerning Burning Man. The personal interaction that occurs between individuals. So here is a little something that occurred between me and a dude at the gate.
As my Frisco buddy and I were traveling back from eating the burgers we were stopped by a guy at the gate. The deal was he didn’t have a ticket to get into the festival and he didn’t have enough money to get in. He asked if I wanted a half an eighth of Frop for twenty bucks. Now being a savvy and experienced man, in the way that Jimmy Hendrix asks repeatedly on the oldies stations, I was not too keen on the idea of forking over my meager funds in front of a festival patrolled by the cops and being as I didn’t have too much cash on me, and a sack already, I offered to buy him a ticket in. the crux of it was that we had to get him in for ten bucks and to do that he had to look like he was ready for the playa. So up we went to the gate, and I did the shpeel thing I so love to do.
I laid down the story on the gate folks, and they were hip to the idea of him not only getting in for ten bucks, but also in offering ideas for the playa costume to allow for a better financial ease. I wrapped his hoodie sweatshirt around his head in a cape like way and he pulled his underwear up as high as it would go and then put his shoes on his hands. Up we went to the ticket buying area and SHAZAAM!!! He was good to go, the ticket was bought, and we moved our way into the festival. He righted his gear and we made our way onto the grassy area and proceeded to smoke a little frop.
Now some might ask, why is this important? To you few, who should really know better, why isn’t it? If every day, a few times a day, we interact with each other without the boundaries we work so hard to create around us, the aspect of true communication and informational trade can occur. And we owe it to ourselves to allow for those moments every day.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Welcomed Home Again Part 9
As with most of my travels, that last leg home, especially after walking all day long, was harsh to say the least. I had to stop every so often to splash water on my face and walk around a bit to get my head cleared. But I made it home with only a little effort. As I rounded the corner of a local small two laned highway that curves through a pass here, I saw a guy by the side of the road with a car over on its side. I stopped and asked if he was alright, and it wasn’t even his car. He said he had found it like that and the cops were coming along with cal fire. So I rolled up the window and rolled on down the road. I made it into the house, closed the door, and wandered up to bed.
Now a quick note of advice for all you out there. If you have any urge at all to go to burning man, or have heard of it and are the least bit interested, I highly suggest that you go to a decompression near you. They range from an afternoon into the evening to a three day fest in the desert outside of San Diego. And it’s not like you have to be from the area where that decompression as all are welcome to attend no matter where you’re from. So have no fear, and attend the best time in your life.
Now a quick note of advice for all you out there. If you have any urge at all to go to burning man, or have heard of it and are the least bit interested, I highly suggest that you go to a decompression near you. They range from an afternoon into the evening to a three day fest in the desert outside of San Diego. And it’s not like you have to be from the area where that decompression as all are welcome to attend no matter where you’re from. So have no fear, and attend the best time in your life.
Welcomed Home Again Part 8
As night descended the lights came on, not only on most of the art but on the people as well. Though I didn’t see as much EL love as I thought I would. My Frisco buddy had dangly strings off of his vest so I looped a couple finger lights on him and he was set. As a rule of thumb, and not one used to legalize beating your wife, it is incredibly important to be able to be seen at night when out on the playa. The reasoning behind it is that if you don’t want to be run down by a tripping raver late in the morning it’s better to be lit up then dark and shaped like a target.
About this time I was wondering where my other buddy and his fam had gone to, so I found a quiet spot, no mean task I must say, and gave him a ring as I had been doing for awhile now. He let me know that he had split already and was over at the end of the golden gate bridge and was tripping on the lights of San Fran. We said our farewells and hung up and it was back to the event.
We ended up wandering over to the Cocomo lounge area and wandered up to the second floor. There was a guy in a little shack looking thing that was the bar, or at least that’s where a lot of bottles were, and we ordered a couple drinks and then headed out to the balcony that was fronting the place. We hung out a bit and had some tasty conversations, and as I was talking to a guy and my buddy was chatting with an Aussie girl that was sitting down. She split to the toilet and as I was talking to the other guy there about one of the best rock operas of our time, REPO the genetic opera that is, I felt a poking in my arm. I turned and my Frisco buddy was holding out a rolly. I thought it might have been a joint, but was unsure till I tasted, then quagged out a cloud of smoke. As the head rush started I realized that it was a quite tasty joint, and I puffed it down. Another dude sidled up and I offered and he accepted and the joint went round and round. After I passed it on we finished up our drinks and dove back into the mass of people.
We wandered up and down the avenues and saw and tasted and experienced it all till our feet were sore, then headed back to the car. Nine flights later, along with a great rendition of the ballad of some Mcgee guy that my buddy had memorized, we made it to the car and headed back to his pad. I didn’t stop in and just dropped him off because of my need to drive for hours and hours to get home. Big hugs later he went inside and I was on the road.
About this time I was wondering where my other buddy and his fam had gone to, so I found a quiet spot, no mean task I must say, and gave him a ring as I had been doing for awhile now. He let me know that he had split already and was over at the end of the golden gate bridge and was tripping on the lights of San Fran. We said our farewells and hung up and it was back to the event.
We ended up wandering over to the Cocomo lounge area and wandered up to the second floor. There was a guy in a little shack looking thing that was the bar, or at least that’s where a lot of bottles were, and we ordered a couple drinks and then headed out to the balcony that was fronting the place. We hung out a bit and had some tasty conversations, and as I was talking to a guy and my buddy was chatting with an Aussie girl that was sitting down. She split to the toilet and as I was talking to the other guy there about one of the best rock operas of our time, REPO the genetic opera that is, I felt a poking in my arm. I turned and my Frisco buddy was holding out a rolly. I thought it might have been a joint, but was unsure till I tasted, then quagged out a cloud of smoke. As the head rush started I realized that it was a quite tasty joint, and I puffed it down. Another dude sidled up and I offered and he accepted and the joint went round and round. After I passed it on we finished up our drinks and dove back into the mass of people.
We wandered up and down the avenues and saw and tasted and experienced it all till our feet were sore, then headed back to the car. Nine flights later, along with a great rendition of the ballad of some Mcgee guy that my buddy had memorized, we made it to the car and headed back to his pad. I didn’t stop in and just dropped him off because of my need to drive for hours and hours to get home. Big hugs later he went inside and I was on the road.
Welcomed Home Again Part 7
The music there was techno in origin, but earsplitting in decibel range. Most of the musical art cars and camps have better sound systems then I’ve seen in most of the clubs in the small towns where I reside. The robot heart in fact has such a powerful system on it that when close to it, depending on your sense of smell and/or the acid you’ve imbibed, can give off a smell of intense electronics cooking. They were there in the smaller version of the robot heart, but their music was as loud and intense as ever.
We, my Frisco buddy and I, were feeling a might peckish so we headed out to the streets of Frisco and wandered till we found an ATM and a joint to eat at. There was food in the event but as we were starving and needed sustenance we decided on a tasty burger joint. Now something about Frisco I have to say and this may be a thing that restaurants do to look more chic or expensive or something but out of the three restaurants we went to only the burger joint had their menu where we could see it from outside, and here’s the kicker. They were the only ones that had prices on the menus. Now from a cheap mans point of view, and I am a cheap man I must say at least in some things that is, that is the worst possible idea a restaurant can have primarily because if I don’t at least see the prices and know I cant afford it I wont go in anyways. But I think that that may be the whole idea anyways. So we scarfed a few burgers and headed back to the party.
We, my Frisco buddy and I, were feeling a might peckish so we headed out to the streets of Frisco and wandered till we found an ATM and a joint to eat at. There was food in the event but as we were starving and needed sustenance we decided on a tasty burger joint. Now something about Frisco I have to say and this may be a thing that restaurants do to look more chic or expensive or something but out of the three restaurants we went to only the burger joint had their menu where we could see it from outside, and here’s the kicker. They were the only ones that had prices on the menus. Now from a cheap mans point of view, and I am a cheap man I must say at least in some things that is, that is the worst possible idea a restaurant can have primarily because if I don’t at least see the prices and know I cant afford it I wont go in anyways. But I think that that may be the whole idea anyways. So we scarfed a few burgers and headed back to the party.
Welcomed Home Again Part 6
Now for those of you that have never gone to Burning Man, the best thing you can do is to find a regional event where you are and check that out first. That way you don’t have the dust and the lack of showers and the inability to use a cell phone and all the rest of what sometimes makes this society unbearable. You get the art cars, the art, the flames, the dancing, the techno music, and the bacon.
We walked a little ways into the event, pausing here and there, and saw the huge map of the city that was in the very center of center camp. It’s a huge map that’s staked down in the center of center camp which shows all the art installations, or at least the bulk of them, and it also shows the theme camps and the city proper. So of course I went over to the spot that mattered most to me, 7:30 and I, where I had been camped. They had magic markers and were encouraging everyone to place where they had camped so I placed my first mark there that I’m thinking of including as a “sign” for my website. It’s an amalgamation of the first letters of “from the ridge” in a bizarre and slightly brandingish angle. So I placed it there, saw that others had already placed animalia camp there and immediately looked around to see if anyone I knew was there. While looking around I saw the unmistakable Day-Glo colors of the lunapillar, which was the first art car that my buddy and I had ridden out in the desert. As a gift they, those that ride the moth and feed her and clothe her and make her happy, had given out lifetime passes to the moth when 2012 hit so that there would be those of us with a pass that would survive the vortex and find our way into the new universe. Since I had on my playa gear I reached into a pocket and whipped out the card. I asked if she remembered me and she said she did, then ran over to where they had set up a tent on the curb and brought out the towels I had passed out as my gifts. She cradled it lovingly and told me that wherever the luna goes, the towel comes with as well. Which made me smile like crazy. So I gave them all hugs and anointed them with my Man Mojo Mix, let them know that in a few years I’d be back to the man, and we walked on our way. They had a partial segment of the soma art exhibit from the playa, which I’m sad to say I didn’t see when I was out there. Which seemed to be the case with a lot of the art. Most of it I had seen when I was out there, but the rest of it was new. They had a bus that was decked out to look like a reel to reel player with rotating reels on it that glowed because of large sections of electro luminescent wire, which is the coolest stuff around. I’ve been thinking that I need to get a “vest” of sorts for my vest so I can thread it through the sections of my vest I have and glow glow glow in the dark. They had about five or six stages set up where there was constant music and dancing and fun occurring at every turn. The hookah dome was there, along with bacon and Beethoven, the liquid latex lounge, the midnight popcorn palace, BRC post office, and so much more that I must insist that you all go to the burning man site and check it out, if you haven’t already.
We walked a little ways into the event, pausing here and there, and saw the huge map of the city that was in the very center of center camp. It’s a huge map that’s staked down in the center of center camp which shows all the art installations, or at least the bulk of them, and it also shows the theme camps and the city proper. So of course I went over to the spot that mattered most to me, 7:30 and I, where I had been camped. They had magic markers and were encouraging everyone to place where they had camped so I placed my first mark there that I’m thinking of including as a “sign” for my website. It’s an amalgamation of the first letters of “from the ridge” in a bizarre and slightly brandingish angle. So I placed it there, saw that others had already placed animalia camp there and immediately looked around to see if anyone I knew was there. While looking around I saw the unmistakable Day-Glo colors of the lunapillar, which was the first art car that my buddy and I had ridden out in the desert. As a gift they, those that ride the moth and feed her and clothe her and make her happy, had given out lifetime passes to the moth when 2012 hit so that there would be those of us with a pass that would survive the vortex and find our way into the new universe. Since I had on my playa gear I reached into a pocket and whipped out the card. I asked if she remembered me and she said she did, then ran over to where they had set up a tent on the curb and brought out the towels I had passed out as my gifts. She cradled it lovingly and told me that wherever the luna goes, the towel comes with as well. Which made me smile like crazy. So I gave them all hugs and anointed them with my Man Mojo Mix, let them know that in a few years I’d be back to the man, and we walked on our way. They had a partial segment of the soma art exhibit from the playa, which I’m sad to say I didn’t see when I was out there. Which seemed to be the case with a lot of the art. Most of it I had seen when I was out there, but the rest of it was new. They had a bus that was decked out to look like a reel to reel player with rotating reels on it that glowed because of large sections of electro luminescent wire, which is the coolest stuff around. I’ve been thinking that I need to get a “vest” of sorts for my vest so I can thread it through the sections of my vest I have and glow glow glow in the dark. They had about five or six stages set up where there was constant music and dancing and fun occurring at every turn. The hookah dome was there, along with bacon and Beethoven, the liquid latex lounge, the midnight popcorn palace, BRC post office, and so much more that I must insist that you all go to the burning man site and check it out, if you haven’t already.
Welcomed Home Again Part 5
The next aftermorn I awoke and they had already been awake and surfing the web on their own separate laptops at the ends of their couch. I hosed off in the bathroom and got ready in the gear I hadn’t donned since the desert and started to smile and couldn’t really stop. I was going back home by visiting just a slice of my desert world on the streets of Frisco, and I was excited. After I got out of the shower and was getting all my gear ready and set up my buddy started to try to come up with different outfits so he could pay the ten dollars and not the twenty, because if you came in playa gear you were half off. He ended up in a renaissance jacket without the sleeves, so a ren vest I guess, with a long sleeved shirt underneath with thorns on the sleeves. Was a cool outfit and I thought it would work for the crowd we were going to dive into. After a bit of noise about his cell phone being charged, or more to the point not being charged, we went to the slice of heaven, and my people from the desert home I longed for.
After turning on my cell phone, I found about five messages on it. One was from my wifeykins missing me and wanting to chat, and four from my buddy driving with his fam. Most of them were his son yelling wake up we’re about three hours away, then two hours, then were was I, then wake up man, and on and on. I called him back before we left and he was certain he was close, but that became one of the mini sagas of this saga. Now I love my buddy, he’s a bro and all, but the guy gets into a big city and he’s lost like no other person I know. I must have spent a total of an hour and a half on my phone, guiding and giving directions and cajoling and harping and finally getting him to the event. It was not unlike pulling teeth, to use a bit of dentistry lingo, and by the time he had gotten there I think he was ready for whatever came his way. He was also incredibly involved with trying to get some frop, to the point that my other friend would walk away so he didn’t have to hear him talk about it. I had one brownie left from the ones I brought to the man and I had already eaten half of it, so I gave the other to my buddy and had him take a ginormous toke of the fropolicious. After that he disappeared and the rest of the time was trying to contact, or find, or keep track of him. As I was used to it, I had to let my other friend get in the know about him and how he usually splits and finds me later. So with a few set backs and delays we were set loose within the small slice of the world I had experienced out in the desert.
After turning on my cell phone, I found about five messages on it. One was from my wifeykins missing me and wanting to chat, and four from my buddy driving with his fam. Most of them were his son yelling wake up we’re about three hours away, then two hours, then were was I, then wake up man, and on and on. I called him back before we left and he was certain he was close, but that became one of the mini sagas of this saga. Now I love my buddy, he’s a bro and all, but the guy gets into a big city and he’s lost like no other person I know. I must have spent a total of an hour and a half on my phone, guiding and giving directions and cajoling and harping and finally getting him to the event. It was not unlike pulling teeth, to use a bit of dentistry lingo, and by the time he had gotten there I think he was ready for whatever came his way. He was also incredibly involved with trying to get some frop, to the point that my other friend would walk away so he didn’t have to hear him talk about it. I had one brownie left from the ones I brought to the man and I had already eaten half of it, so I gave the other to my buddy and had him take a ginormous toke of the fropolicious. After that he disappeared and the rest of the time was trying to contact, or find, or keep track of him. As I was used to it, I had to let my other friend get in the know about him and how he usually splits and finds me later. So with a few set backs and delays we were set loose within the small slice of the world I had experienced out in the desert.
Welcomed Home Again Part 4
Now for any of you that happen to have ever drank, for some lost souls out there are sorely lacking in their ability to booze it up, there came a point in my evening that I’m sure you have encountered before. That blessed moment when you have to stop and seriously consider the possibility that if you puke now, the spins may stop slightly sooner then if you didn’t. Well I tell ya, I sat, then stood, then staggered, then smoked a smoke, then staggered a bit more, then sat and watched, or more to the point let it wash over me like a sickly wave of dirty water, the show we had started, then staggered a bit more, then the choice was taken from me by the sheer fact that I waited it out long enough and the spins slowed and eventually stopped. Then I was just really drunk again for a few hours.
My buddy ended up going to bed so I figured it was time for me as well, so off to bed I went as well. They have an extra room now, so I was able to crash out in there and that is where they have their love sacks. Now for those of you not in the “know” love sacks are the next generation bean bag, but without the annoying little white balls of Styrofoam that get everywhere possible in your house after the slightest small tear in the pleather or whatever it happens to be made out of. The love sack uses the memory foam stuff, but you have foam ripping parties and then stuff that into bags of much better construction then I had ever seen. To sleep on these things is like submerging yourself into a cloud, if the cloud looked like it could support you and did without dumping your dumb ass onto the ground for thinking it could support you. I’ve been trying for years to get my wife to agree to buy some so we could be couchless, but alas she is not convinced.
My buddy ended up going to bed so I figured it was time for me as well, so off to bed I went as well. They have an extra room now, so I was able to crash out in there and that is where they have their love sacks. Now for those of you not in the “know” love sacks are the next generation bean bag, but without the annoying little white balls of Styrofoam that get everywhere possible in your house after the slightest small tear in the pleather or whatever it happens to be made out of. The love sack uses the memory foam stuff, but you have foam ripping parties and then stuff that into bags of much better construction then I had ever seen. To sleep on these things is like submerging yourself into a cloud, if the cloud looked like it could support you and did without dumping your dumb ass onto the ground for thinking it could support you. I’ve been trying for years to get my wife to agree to buy some so we could be couchless, but alas she is not convinced.
Welcomed Home Again Part 3
It was a nice drive out to Frisco. I went along the coast, north to the city, but before I got there I was instructed, by my buddy, to move more to the east as he was residing in the city of Hayward now. So I went around and found the general area, after many u-turns and backtracking, only to find out he was at a wine and cheese festival across the bridge in another city. So I went across the bridge, the San Mateo I think, to the other side and found him after much cell phone tag. Now the drive across the bridge was staggering and beautiful all at the same time. As you head out you realize that not only is the bay to your right, full of the sea and resplendent in the sun, and then you turn to the left, and the same thing confronts you. The beauty of the sea. But the bridge is disarming as it looks like a little high tide would make crossing that thing an alarming and dangerous endeavor. Now as you are unable to stop on the bridge to look out across the bay, and more to the point to look down slightly to see the distance between the tide and the bridges proximity, it is an unnerving drive to make. But its freakiness in no way makes the drive any less beautiful.
So across the bridge I went and into the street faire/festival/excuse to drink in the streets. I found my buddy and his man and we hung out a bit and I got some island noodles. I had arrived when the faire was thinking of closing so we meandered around the street we were on till they found a wine bar they wanted to visit. We sat for a bit, they had wine, I had water, and we all shared some olives with garlic and I think vinegar on them. They were good and strong, as most olives should be I think, and then we headed back to their home. My buddy’s man was in the mood to smoke some frop so he rode with me and my buddy rode in his own car. As soon as we got into the car my buddy’s man whipped out a tincture from apple cider vinegar and frop and he gave me, as he put it, my recommended dose. I didn’t feel it at first but then as we drove along and hit the bridge it came on with quite a vengeance and the smoking slightly stalled. Then we got to their house and the bong came out and my head neared the floor. They had some whaler’s rum and cokes and I must say, to say that whalers is “tasty” is like saying that home made ice cream is a little “creamy”. They are both correct statements, but they are also both a bit tame. So we sat, and drank, and smoked, and my buddy’s man ended up going to bed. We stayed up for a bit longer and watched some crazy shows he had on DVD and I tried to stop the spins.
So across the bridge I went and into the street faire/festival/excuse to drink in the streets. I found my buddy and his man and we hung out a bit and I got some island noodles. I had arrived when the faire was thinking of closing so we meandered around the street we were on till they found a wine bar they wanted to visit. We sat for a bit, they had wine, I had water, and we all shared some olives with garlic and I think vinegar on them. They were good and strong, as most olives should be I think, and then we headed back to their home. My buddy’s man was in the mood to smoke some frop so he rode with me and my buddy rode in his own car. As soon as we got into the car my buddy’s man whipped out a tincture from apple cider vinegar and frop and he gave me, as he put it, my recommended dose. I didn’t feel it at first but then as we drove along and hit the bridge it came on with quite a vengeance and the smoking slightly stalled. Then we got to their house and the bong came out and my head neared the floor. They had some whaler’s rum and cokes and I must say, to say that whalers is “tasty” is like saying that home made ice cream is a little “creamy”. They are both correct statements, but they are also both a bit tame. So we sat, and drank, and smoked, and my buddy’s man ended up going to bed. We stayed up for a bit longer and watched some crazy shows he had on DVD and I tried to stop the spins.
Welcomed Home Again Part 2
My other buddy was driving from out east of Fresno and was bringing his entire family. I had been filling his head full of stories of dust and desolation and art and bacon in the desert so he was jazzed and ready to go. So they were driving out on Sunday, but I was going to get to Frisco on Saturday sometime in the evening. Whether it was early or late was really up in the air.
All this was arranged and done before my day of travel so I was ready and packed by Saturday in the late afternoon and was on the road. I had to stop off at the neighborhood wally world as I needed new sleeping bags for the expedition. After the man most everything with any zippers was pretty thrashed and fairly useless, and as the sleeping bags we had had survived a few kids and a few years, I was alright with their retirement, into the trash (no gold watch for sleepy time bagulons) they went. I also needed a new phone card for the suck phone plus a hands free headset. A quick thought on hands free needs and laws. I agree completely with them and what they are trying to do, yet there are still no hands free make up application, or hands free newspaper reading laws as well and I think that perchance a law that makes you pay attention to the road if a bit bassackwards. Possibly a more restrictive law base would help restrain the populace from applying, reading, and/or any other odd home based activity to home, and not to the car as they’re traveling down the freeway. Others are driving folks, pay a little more attention.
All this was arranged and done before my day of travel so I was ready and packed by Saturday in the late afternoon and was on the road. I had to stop off at the neighborhood wally world as I needed new sleeping bags for the expedition. After the man most everything with any zippers was pretty thrashed and fairly useless, and as the sleeping bags we had had survived a few kids and a few years, I was alright with their retirement, into the trash (no gold watch for sleepy time bagulons) they went. I also needed a new phone card for the suck phone plus a hands free headset. A quick thought on hands free needs and laws. I agree completely with them and what they are trying to do, yet there are still no hands free make up application, or hands free newspaper reading laws as well and I think that perchance a law that makes you pay attention to the road if a bit bassackwards. Possibly a more restrictive law base would help restrain the populace from applying, reading, and/or any other odd home based activity to home, and not to the car as they’re traveling down the freeway. Others are driving folks, pay a little more attention.
Welcomed Home Again Part 1
With great exhaustion and fatigueyness I write for you all, for the intrepid tye-dyed informer shall always report on the weird, the whacky, and the righteous. It was once again the weekend of the San Francisco decompression and it was intensive and exuberant. But the prep for this one was not unlike trying to make it to the man. Sort of.
I had tried like hell for at least a month if not more to try to get my 75 year old father to go to the man. Yet the fact of no showers, as I wasn’t going to bring one this year, was too much for him. Not the nakedness, which has stumped a few of the folks I know I can tell you, not the dust, which was intense and horizontal at times, not even the drug use and content per capita within the created and removed city in the sands that rises like Lazarus, or a mans phallus in the morning. It was all about whether he could hose off or not. So the fact that less then three hundred miles away was a little warm and semi-itchy slice of the burning man vibe was getting that ever present gleam back in his eye. But his back was hurt and then, when it felt better, he decided to mow the front lawn, the back lawn, and wash all the windows in his house. So then that took care of the good feelings and the bad ones came back home and decided to play a flamenco kind of pain tune on his back. So he was out, to the ridicule of his son of course, and I was again flying semi-solo. I had called my friend, who had moved with his man from the depths of Hollyweird to the rolling hills of Frisco, and had asked if I could crash on his floor for the night. After telling him about the festivities that were going to be there, he was slightly interested, but distracted. So I wasn’t sure if he was going to go with me or not.
I had tried like hell for at least a month if not more to try to get my 75 year old father to go to the man. Yet the fact of no showers, as I wasn’t going to bring one this year, was too much for him. Not the nakedness, which has stumped a few of the folks I know I can tell you, not the dust, which was intense and horizontal at times, not even the drug use and content per capita within the created and removed city in the sands that rises like Lazarus, or a mans phallus in the morning. It was all about whether he could hose off or not. So the fact that less then three hundred miles away was a little warm and semi-itchy slice of the burning man vibe was getting that ever present gleam back in his eye. But his back was hurt and then, when it felt better, he decided to mow the front lawn, the back lawn, and wash all the windows in his house. So then that took care of the good feelings and the bad ones came back home and decided to play a flamenco kind of pain tune on his back. So he was out, to the ridicule of his son of course, and I was again flying semi-solo. I had called my friend, who had moved with his man from the depths of Hollyweird to the rolling hills of Frisco, and had asked if I could crash on his floor for the night. After telling him about the festivities that were going to be there, he was slightly interested, but distracted. So I wasn’t sure if he was going to go with me or not.
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Last Huzzah Part 12
We started back out the road, and I called the wifeykins to let her know we were heading back. And then we were on the road and heading south.
Now it took us at least four hours from Frisco to get to Sierraville, but the way back was much faster. It ended up taking us only about seven hours. We ended up needing gas about an hour or so out and it was there that I got some burger king goodness. Back on the road we chatted and I tried to get to the root of my buddies beliefs versus the rhetoric he had been spouting like a religious zealot for most of the time he had been here. It was weird, but every time I asked him what he thought, he would respond with something from one of the sites and/or the odd little newspaper he gave me from Vermont. So I asked and asked for awhile till we got through his dogma and got to the meat of his wants and fears and needs. It was the same as anyone’s hopes and fears in this country, let alone this world and age. He was just passionate about the delivery.
As we got closer to the 101 freeway we started to see those huge warehouses that store different items and the trucks back up to them and load up. But these weren’t loading trucks. These were sitting there gathering dust and lease signs. Every third one was for sale or lease and the trucks backed up to the ones still owned by someone were few and far between. In a side that would hold at least thirty to forty, maybe even fifty trucks, there were only about ten or so. Then when we hit the 101 freeway we saw even more business properties for sale then we had so far. It was a seriously sad showing of the economy of our state and our country and to see it drove that home to us much better then figures or forecasts ever could.
We hit Paso and found the Wal-Mart parking lot and parked and waited for the wifeykins to arrive and get me. Duder decided to take a shower, have a rolling house will travel, and so I waited for a bit with sporadic forays through the parking lot to search for them. Little did I know, they were there waiting in the car over by the side area, a kind of out of the way spot where I didn’t check at all. About forty minutes later I saw the wifeykins cruising the parking lot and had to chase her a bit till she saw me. She let me know she had been there for quite sometime and I packed the stuff into the car. Duder gave the littlest kidling an electrical toy that he was loving the last time we saw them and I gave duder a hug goodbye. We got into the car, and away we went. To home, and to a tasty Chinese buffet.
Now it took us at least four hours from Frisco to get to Sierraville, but the way back was much faster. It ended up taking us only about seven hours. We ended up needing gas about an hour or so out and it was there that I got some burger king goodness. Back on the road we chatted and I tried to get to the root of my buddies beliefs versus the rhetoric he had been spouting like a religious zealot for most of the time he had been here. It was weird, but every time I asked him what he thought, he would respond with something from one of the sites and/or the odd little newspaper he gave me from Vermont. So I asked and asked for awhile till we got through his dogma and got to the meat of his wants and fears and needs. It was the same as anyone’s hopes and fears in this country, let alone this world and age. He was just passionate about the delivery.
As we got closer to the 101 freeway we started to see those huge warehouses that store different items and the trucks back up to them and load up. But these weren’t loading trucks. These were sitting there gathering dust and lease signs. Every third one was for sale or lease and the trucks backed up to the ones still owned by someone were few and far between. In a side that would hold at least thirty to forty, maybe even fifty trucks, there were only about ten or so. Then when we hit the 101 freeway we saw even more business properties for sale then we had so far. It was a seriously sad showing of the economy of our state and our country and to see it drove that home to us much better then figures or forecasts ever could.
We hit Paso and found the Wal-Mart parking lot and parked and waited for the wifeykins to arrive and get me. Duder decided to take a shower, have a rolling house will travel, and so I waited for a bit with sporadic forays through the parking lot to search for them. Little did I know, they were there waiting in the car over by the side area, a kind of out of the way spot where I didn’t check at all. About forty minutes later I saw the wifeykins cruising the parking lot and had to chase her a bit till she saw me. She let me know she had been there for quite sometime and I packed the stuff into the car. Duder gave the littlest kidling an electrical toy that he was loving the last time we saw them and I gave duder a hug goodbye. We got into the car, and away we went. To home, and to a tasty Chinese buffet.
The Last Huzzah Part 11
So we talked, and soaked, and talked some more, and then it was time to boogey back to the RV. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. So I headed back and got ready for bed. My buddy walked back with me and he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow. I puttered around and arranged stuff and then passed out as well. Before I did though I set my alarm for 8:30 in the am as I was wanting to get some grub before we left. So I set the watch, doffed my glasses, and to sleep I went.
The next day duder made breakfast before I was even really conscious, so I awoke to the smells of eggs and oranges and tasty treats. As I was waking up he was already in the driver’s seat and had wolfed down his food. I got dressed, got semi awake, and was getting my boots on when he started up the RV and was ready to go. He had a prior dinner engagement at around six in the PM that night so he was all for splitting as soon as possible. He kept asking about whether I was going to eat or not and I told him to go ahead and drive on over to the office and check out. I put the yogurt and the eggs and all away in the fridge and got in the front seat. I was following through from my vow the night before to not eat any of his food. And I didn’t for the rest of the trip. He ended up eating the rest of my food, except for the yogurt as it was in the fridge. I don’t think he knew where it was.
I wanted to have breakfast at the philosophy café as the cook from the night before wasn’t going to be cooking and a full stomach for the road is a must have. But it was not destined to be. So I got a few scones from the office area, and went down to the café to pay for them. The dude doing the cooking tried like hell to get me to eat there as the road is ever longer when hungry, but I couldn’t as the buddy was chomping at the bit. So scones in tow we set off for the wild blue yonder.
The next day duder made breakfast before I was even really conscious, so I awoke to the smells of eggs and oranges and tasty treats. As I was waking up he was already in the driver’s seat and had wolfed down his food. I got dressed, got semi awake, and was getting my boots on when he started up the RV and was ready to go. He had a prior dinner engagement at around six in the PM that night so he was all for splitting as soon as possible. He kept asking about whether I was going to eat or not and I told him to go ahead and drive on over to the office and check out. I put the yogurt and the eggs and all away in the fridge and got in the front seat. I was following through from my vow the night before to not eat any of his food. And I didn’t for the rest of the trip. He ended up eating the rest of my food, except for the yogurt as it was in the fridge. I don’t think he knew where it was.
I wanted to have breakfast at the philosophy café as the cook from the night before wasn’t going to be cooking and a full stomach for the road is a must have. But it was not destined to be. So I got a few scones from the office area, and went down to the café to pay for them. The dude doing the cooking tried like hell to get me to eat there as the road is ever longer when hungry, but I couldn’t as the buddy was chomping at the bit. So scones in tow we set off for the wild blue yonder.
The Last Huzzah Part 10
Now at Sierraville hot springs the “quiet” rule really is in effect. No dogs are allowed, no loud noises, no cheering, no real expression of any kind, but they project a healing and tranquil environment. Tranquil it is, but for me at least, and possible for others as well, the tranquil bit is cool, but the yelling and laughing bit is sometimes quite meditative as well.
Now since they had a “no pets” policy I was a little on edge about the buddies psycho dog. Not the dog is a sweetie, little nutty, but a sweetie all the same. But he has a bizarre habit of, for no reason I might add, freaking out on passerby’s and objects in the road. Even objects on the side of the road. Even objects up the road. And he would freak out in the most vocal way right in my ear. Great dog, but as far as training goes not much on the manners angle. They had only had him for a month or so and he’s a German shepherd lab mix. Looks like its lab all over, especially the head and color, and a German Shepherd back end, especially around the hips. Good looking dog, and he was fun to have on the trip, but he was a kook. A lovable kook. So every time he started in with his barking I would yell “FUCK!!” out in tune to his barking. That started in Frisco, but as we went further on our adventure I began to do it when he least expected it. It was slightly exciting and always caused a laugh.
So back to the pool. Wouldn’t ya know it, as soon as I get in the pool and start chatting there were multiple people that had been to burning man. One guy, who wanted us to know that he was a geologist really badly, said he had gone ten years in a row. He said that when you go to burning man in the first ten minutes you’ll see things you didn’t know could exist, and thing that you wished you didn’t know existed. I’ll be using my stopwatch to count the minutes when I get there.
Now since they had a “no pets” policy I was a little on edge about the buddies psycho dog. Not the dog is a sweetie, little nutty, but a sweetie all the same. But he has a bizarre habit of, for no reason I might add, freaking out on passerby’s and objects in the road. Even objects on the side of the road. Even objects up the road. And he would freak out in the most vocal way right in my ear. Great dog, but as far as training goes not much on the manners angle. They had only had him for a month or so and he’s a German shepherd lab mix. Looks like its lab all over, especially the head and color, and a German Shepherd back end, especially around the hips. Good looking dog, and he was fun to have on the trip, but he was a kook. A lovable kook. So every time he started in with his barking I would yell “FUCK!!” out in tune to his barking. That started in Frisco, but as we went further on our adventure I began to do it when he least expected it. It was slightly exciting and always caused a laugh.
So back to the pool. Wouldn’t ya know it, as soon as I get in the pool and start chatting there were multiple people that had been to burning man. One guy, who wanted us to know that he was a geologist really badly, said he had gone ten years in a row. He said that when you go to burning man in the first ten minutes you’ll see things you didn’t know could exist, and thing that you wished you didn’t know existed. I’ll be using my stopwatch to count the minutes when I get there.
The Last Huzzah Part 9
“Man I’m friggin hungry. Do you have any bread duder?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Any crackers man?”
“Nope.”
“Oh well. Guess I’ll have another bowl of soup then.”
“Man! What are you doing?!!?? You eat soo much man!”
Slight confusion now as most of the food I had eaten I had either bought on the road or had brought. So I decided that I was done and had had enough.
“Alright man. I won’t eat any more of your food then man. I have nuts or something in my backpack man. Just go soak man, just go soak.” And I punctuated my non eating his foodness with an umpire “he’s safe” arm scissor thingy.
At this point he was standing over by the door and as I was looking in my bag o’ food I usually have on me and he began the cursing and the freak out, which had held off for a bit this time, came in full force.
“Well fuck you man. No, fuck you man, fuck you. Just fuck you man, no man fuck you.” And he went along that vein for a bit. I was looking at him thinking what exactly had brought this on, but I figured since his ear hurt him he was allowed. I tried to interject a bit to figure out what exactly he was going on about, but he would talk over me with a “Fuck” or two and I just let him wind down. I said “Alrighty man.” and he took off for the geodesic dome pool.
I sat there for a bit, shaking my head mostly, and then I ate some nuts that I have in my backpack and then I poured myself a rum and coke. I drank my drink, smoked a bit of the old frop, and decided that I would head on over to the pool myself.
The walk is about a mile or so, maybe a little less, and it winds around the front through the hot springs area along the long drive from the service road leading up to it. It was quiet, peaceful, and not at all like what had occurred in the RV. I let the night consume me, enfold me, and embrace me as I walked through the trees and along the lighted path up the hill to the geodesic dome that housed the hottest spring that Sierraville had to offer.
Within the dome, in the center of it actually, right in front of the big wooden Buddha, is the hot spring pool. Sand covers the bottom and the pool can reach temperatures of more then 115 degrees. There are other pools, like small stone sarcophagi, up stairs that curve a little over on the further wall from the hot pool that are no warmer then 55 degrees. If you have the stones, and they will shrivel when you do it I must say (from experience I might add), you jump from pool to pool and your immune system will boost like it never has before. This trip I was unable to really switch between the two as I had last time. I really don’t know why it was so difficult this time, but the water in the hot pool was sooo hot that the cool pools were soo cold that I hit then each a few times, till my hands cramped up and got sore, which took about fifteen seconds in the cold pool, and I was done. Now outside the dome there is an eighty-five degree swimming pool. There were a few people hanging out in it and I visited with them here and there.
“Nope.”
“Any crackers man?”
“Nope.”
“Oh well. Guess I’ll have another bowl of soup then.”
“Man! What are you doing?!!?? You eat soo much man!”
Slight confusion now as most of the food I had eaten I had either bought on the road or had brought. So I decided that I was done and had had enough.
“Alright man. I won’t eat any more of your food then man. I have nuts or something in my backpack man. Just go soak man, just go soak.” And I punctuated my non eating his foodness with an umpire “he’s safe” arm scissor thingy.
At this point he was standing over by the door and as I was looking in my bag o’ food I usually have on me and he began the cursing and the freak out, which had held off for a bit this time, came in full force.
“Well fuck you man. No, fuck you man, fuck you. Just fuck you man, no man fuck you.” And he went along that vein for a bit. I was looking at him thinking what exactly had brought this on, but I figured since his ear hurt him he was allowed. I tried to interject a bit to figure out what exactly he was going on about, but he would talk over me with a “Fuck” or two and I just let him wind down. I said “Alrighty man.” and he took off for the geodesic dome pool.
I sat there for a bit, shaking my head mostly, and then I ate some nuts that I have in my backpack and then I poured myself a rum and coke. I drank my drink, smoked a bit of the old frop, and decided that I would head on over to the pool myself.
The walk is about a mile or so, maybe a little less, and it winds around the front through the hot springs area along the long drive from the service road leading up to it. It was quiet, peaceful, and not at all like what had occurred in the RV. I let the night consume me, enfold me, and embrace me as I walked through the trees and along the lighted path up the hill to the geodesic dome that housed the hottest spring that Sierraville had to offer.
Within the dome, in the center of it actually, right in front of the big wooden Buddha, is the hot spring pool. Sand covers the bottom and the pool can reach temperatures of more then 115 degrees. There are other pools, like small stone sarcophagi, up stairs that curve a little over on the further wall from the hot pool that are no warmer then 55 degrees. If you have the stones, and they will shrivel when you do it I must say (from experience I might add), you jump from pool to pool and your immune system will boost like it never has before. This trip I was unable to really switch between the two as I had last time. I really don’t know why it was so difficult this time, but the water in the hot pool was sooo hot that the cool pools were soo cold that I hit then each a few times, till my hands cramped up and got sore, which took about fifteen seconds in the cold pool, and I was done. Now outside the dome there is an eighty-five degree swimming pool. There were a few people hanging out in it and I visited with them here and there.
The Last Huzzah Part 8
The way up was beautiful. As we climbed the mountain slopes into northern California it got cooler and cooler and then there was snow on the ground and on the tops of the mountains. It was stunning and beautiful.
On the way we stopped for gas and he decided to go into a fast food restaurant, but I dissuaded him stating that we would be at the philosophy café in a few hours and we should eat there. That was a big mistake on my part. We should have ate before we got there, but hindsight being twenty twenty we cruised along into the mountains and up and up and up.
Now the buddy has a GPS system that he acquired when we did our Vermont trip together (only available in The First Book From The Ridge. Buy your copy today!) and it kept at the same time of arrival for us, then began to work it’s way backwards through time. Therefore my buddy, when driving up to the hot springs in Sierraville, can move backwards in time. Cool trick if you can do it. As we moved back in time we continued to percolate our brain with fruity cannabis goodness and chatted about freakiness and different world issues. His ear was throbbing again but he refused to stop as he wanted to get to the hot springs as soon as possible.
We got to the hot springs and went directly to the philosophy café for a meal and some pseudo hippy pithy culture. When we went in though, there was mass chaos and confusion as the woman cooking there was swamped and had been invaded by more people then they had seen in months. In other words she was ill prepared and had no food ready. People had been waiting for half an hour or more for their food and it was unknown whether we would be able to get fed or not. The prices were reflective of the far removed aspect of the diner so for about eleven bucks you get either pizza or pasta. The website said that there were meals between the prices of seven and twelve dollars, though the seven dollar meals were not in evidence. Nor the eight, nine, or ten dollar meals either. So we waited. And we waited. And we waited. And we waited. And as the unconsciousness of lack of sustenance in our stomachs drove us ever closer to cannibalism, they handed us a spinach salad. My head bowed over the salad, and raised a half a minute later with an empty plate in front of me. Now during this entire episode not only did the “cook” complain about the fact that there was business in the diner, odd I must say for a profit run business, she also bad mouthed the burning man culture and the citizens of Black Rock City which didn’t make her any points I must say. She then passed over some cracker thin slices of “pizza” which didn’t really satiate the hunger I had. She handed us four pieces of the wafer thin crackerizza and I had a piece and my buddy had a piece. I shared a piece with a dude that was there looking hungry, I had one, and my buddy had two. The food, if that’s what it can be called of course, satisfied for a few moments, and in that time we went to the meditation pool which was close to where we had parked the RV for the night. As we soaked we talked to a dude in the pool that had some interesting ideas about the world and its current state of affairs, and we moved on to the trailer for some food a few hours later. We had a small bowl of some dehydrated split pea soup, and that’s when the serious freak out occurred. It went something like this.
On the way we stopped for gas and he decided to go into a fast food restaurant, but I dissuaded him stating that we would be at the philosophy café in a few hours and we should eat there. That was a big mistake on my part. We should have ate before we got there, but hindsight being twenty twenty we cruised along into the mountains and up and up and up.
Now the buddy has a GPS system that he acquired when we did our Vermont trip together (only available in The First Book From The Ridge. Buy your copy today!) and it kept at the same time of arrival for us, then began to work it’s way backwards through time. Therefore my buddy, when driving up to the hot springs in Sierraville, can move backwards in time. Cool trick if you can do it. As we moved back in time we continued to percolate our brain with fruity cannabis goodness and chatted about freakiness and different world issues. His ear was throbbing again but he refused to stop as he wanted to get to the hot springs as soon as possible.
We got to the hot springs and went directly to the philosophy café for a meal and some pseudo hippy pithy culture. When we went in though, there was mass chaos and confusion as the woman cooking there was swamped and had been invaded by more people then they had seen in months. In other words she was ill prepared and had no food ready. People had been waiting for half an hour or more for their food and it was unknown whether we would be able to get fed or not. The prices were reflective of the far removed aspect of the diner so for about eleven bucks you get either pizza or pasta. The website said that there were meals between the prices of seven and twelve dollars, though the seven dollar meals were not in evidence. Nor the eight, nine, or ten dollar meals either. So we waited. And we waited. And we waited. And we waited. And as the unconsciousness of lack of sustenance in our stomachs drove us ever closer to cannibalism, they handed us a spinach salad. My head bowed over the salad, and raised a half a minute later with an empty plate in front of me. Now during this entire episode not only did the “cook” complain about the fact that there was business in the diner, odd I must say for a profit run business, she also bad mouthed the burning man culture and the citizens of Black Rock City which didn’t make her any points I must say. She then passed over some cracker thin slices of “pizza” which didn’t really satiate the hunger I had. She handed us four pieces of the wafer thin crackerizza and I had a piece and my buddy had a piece. I shared a piece with a dude that was there looking hungry, I had one, and my buddy had two. The food, if that’s what it can be called of course, satisfied for a few moments, and in that time we went to the meditation pool which was close to where we had parked the RV for the night. As we soaked we talked to a dude in the pool that had some interesting ideas about the world and its current state of affairs, and we moved on to the trailer for some food a few hours later. We had a small bowl of some dehydrated split pea soup, and that’s when the serious freak out occurred. It went something like this.
The Last Huzzah Part 7
The stairwell I used to make my way upstairs had little cartoony ant creatures painted on the walls. And of course, more art. As I made my way upstairs I saw that the top floor was another area where there was more booths set up for different volunteer groups within the man umbrella that allows for the infrastructure to be established within black rock city. Some of the booths were the exodus, greeters, lamplighters, BMIR (burning man independent radio), and a guy from some flashing panda site where they sell light up fry toys. I spent a bit of time talking to the BMIR guy to see what it would take for me to get on the air and have a freak out beat poetry spin time and he was all for it. I left a card and got his name (yo bobzilla!) and the promise of a microphone in my direction anytime I walk in. I’d love to be able to play some groovy music and all during that time as well, I just don’t know if the CD’s would survive the heat of the car/day/desert/playa. Pity. I’ll try to come up with a solution but I’m not sure what it would be.
There were also a couple of guys there, they had said they had been to burning man since they were eighteen. They had to be in their early to late twenties, so a few years or so, and they offered their camping area to me as I’m still unsure whether my buddy will be going or not. They said they went to burning man, they set up their camp which takes them about eight hours or so, then they leave camp and explore the city, leaving their camp set up for all the other citizens of Black Rock City.
As the day continued they started the open suggestion forum where they were trying to come up with ideas for any ay for the man to be able to survive in the economic issues that our country, and even our world, are experiencing today. There were suggestions about the toilets, the cleanup, the mass of MOOP (matter out of place) left behind. During this meeting I came up with an idea for a themed camp maybe in a few years that I would love to do having to do with the reduction of garbage and waste on the playa, but I’ll keep that idea close to the vest for now.
There were a lot of different ideas that sprung up from the fertile minds of burners and virgins like me alike and also information about the man. Things like, for one week Black Rock City is the third largest city in Nevada. That the money to the BLM and other law enforcement agencies is only slightly more then the money spent on toilets.
So there were many different ideas and suggestions, and right in the middle of it my buddy started talking about how long it would be till we got to Sierraville hot springs if we left right then. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. And over. But for you out there, my reading little monkeys, my acolytes of bizarrity and untold strangeness, I tried to hang on for information’s sake. So we hung out for a bit longer, at least till the end of that meeting, and off we went to the hot springs.
There were also a couple of guys there, they had said they had been to burning man since they were eighteen. They had to be in their early to late twenties, so a few years or so, and they offered their camping area to me as I’m still unsure whether my buddy will be going or not. They said they went to burning man, they set up their camp which takes them about eight hours or so, then they leave camp and explore the city, leaving their camp set up for all the other citizens of Black Rock City.
As the day continued they started the open suggestion forum where they were trying to come up with ideas for any ay for the man to be able to survive in the economic issues that our country, and even our world, are experiencing today. There were suggestions about the toilets, the cleanup, the mass of MOOP (matter out of place) left behind. During this meeting I came up with an idea for a themed camp maybe in a few years that I would love to do having to do with the reduction of garbage and waste on the playa, but I’ll keep that idea close to the vest for now.
There were a lot of different ideas that sprung up from the fertile minds of burners and virgins like me alike and also information about the man. Things like, for one week Black Rock City is the third largest city in Nevada. That the money to the BLM and other law enforcement agencies is only slightly more then the money spent on toilets.
So there were many different ideas and suggestions, and right in the middle of it my buddy started talking about how long it would be till we got to Sierraville hot springs if we left right then. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. And over. But for you out there, my reading little monkeys, my acolytes of bizarrity and untold strangeness, I tried to hang on for information’s sake. So we hung out for a bit longer, at least till the end of that meeting, and off we went to the hot springs.
The Last Huzzah Part 6
Through the downstairs there was a door that led to a holding/storage area that in turn led out to the back of the building. It was here that the food was being cooked on outdoor grills and the Gray-B-Gone was at. Now for those of you not necessarily in the know, when you camp out on the playa there is a Leave No Trace philosophy that all must follow to allow for the Man to continue year to year. Nothing, from the smallest grain of shmutz to the grey water a camp will produce is allowed to touch the playa surface. The Gray-B-Gone is one mans solution to that problem. To really see what I’m talking/typing about the best bet is to go to instructables.com and check it out yourself. Suffice it to say the pulleys and belts and wind driven bicycle spoke propeller thingies make a large surface area rotate around and allows the sun to evaporate the grey water into the air. The guy running it said it could evaporate between five to ten gallons a day, and the dust from the playa won’t cause serious problems as the drum section revolves and doesn’t allow for the settling of dust onto a stagnant gray water removal system and making it unusable. It was a cool little invention, but I don’t think ill be using it as my gray water creation will be kept to a minimum if even non-existent. There were also these semi circular things that looked like satellite dishes, but on the inside there was seriously reflective surfaces that would concentrate the sun to a point about four feet (on the big one that is) out from the center of it. So what you did was take a long pole with a spike on it or a container that was metal and hold it out in the area. I went up and a woman was cooking a veggie burger and I asked her how long she was cooking the food she was cooking. She said it had been partially frozen and she had been cooking it for about a minute. She then opened the container thingy she was cooking it in and it was sizzling and done. After I got over the amazement and I could close my mouth again I went back over to the food table and had a few grapes.
I had already heated up the Shanghai I had brought and dropped it off at the table of food and gotten myself a burger, so when I went back to the table for grapes I was pleased to see all the shanghai was gone. About that time I got a call from my buddy wondering where he could park the RV and I told him about the big dirt parking lot and he started making his way to BMHQ.
As I was full, and wanted a head change, I went around to the back area of this weird industrial area, and had a few tokes. As I was swaying my way back (just a little sway) I saw one of the black rock rangers hanging out by his car. He offered to share a bowl and I shared as well and we headed back to the party. Someone said something about an upstairs and I worked my way to the stairs.
I had already heated up the Shanghai I had brought and dropped it off at the table of food and gotten myself a burger, so when I went back to the table for grapes I was pleased to see all the shanghai was gone. About that time I got a call from my buddy wondering where he could park the RV and I told him about the big dirt parking lot and he started making his way to BMHQ.
As I was full, and wanted a head change, I went around to the back area of this weird industrial area, and had a few tokes. As I was swaying my way back (just a little sway) I saw one of the black rock rangers hanging out by his car. He offered to share a bowl and I shared as well and we headed back to the party. Someone said something about an upstairs and I worked my way to the stairs.
The Last Huzzah Part 5
The ferry was fairly quick as far as mass transit goes, faster then the bus that is, and was rather an enjoyable way to travel. I called up another buddy and talked to him about the crazy night I had had as I cruised by San Quentin, a few other smaller islands, and Alcatraz. As I hung up with him we were already heading into the port and I was once again at the whims of the mass transit of Frisco.
I asked a couple of transit dudes, and was steered towards the street train area. After I found it it was a slightly harrowing, but in the end fairly boring ride to Burning Man Head Quarters and the potluck B-B-Q. I saw a guy on the train that was dressed in the same kind of outfit that the Ghostbusters wore when they were out not bring afraid of no ghosts and I asked him if he was there for the potluck. He said yes, then began to tell me of the glories of being a lamplighter volunteer. He had many little pendants on a length of leather around his neck that were given only to the lamplighters. The lamplighters are a group of people that volunteer to carry poles with twelve kerosene lanterns per pole. They roam the streets of Black Rock City at dusk o hang the lamps on the main streets leading to the Man, and also along the Esplanade. I let him know that I was going to the man this year, my first year, and that I was going to wander. Maybe next year ill carry the poles and light the avenues and ways of Black Rock City. I have yet to decide.
We walked together through the door to BMHQ and the first thing I noticed was the Merhorse art in the foyer. It was weird to be standing there, looking at something that I had seen many many pictures of and never thought that I would see in reality let alone touch. I reached out with tentative fingers and gently grasped the foreleg, the bent one, of a piece of art that was stationed out on the Playa. It was beautiful. Within the same foyer, leading up to the second floor were many poster sized pictures of different Man intensive things. There was a poster of the different stages of the Man burning, I think it was from a few years ago. There was a table set up, also in the foyer, where a woman was hanging out with other people. She would look at men walking by and say “I’ve got a big sausage!” and whip out a kielbasa from her purse. The lamplighter guy split I think upstairs, I saw him around later, and I went through the building looking at the different art pieces and posters. I did a quick look though, as my bladder had been screaming at me for about 45 minutes and I needed to relieve myself. In the bathroom at the urinals there were instructions that the wall needed to be written on before the buildings demise. I didn’t have a pen on me, so I couldn’t add anything pithy or intense to the destructible wall. After relieving myself I went back to the foyer and took my time walking through the building.
I asked a couple of transit dudes, and was steered towards the street train area. After I found it it was a slightly harrowing, but in the end fairly boring ride to Burning Man Head Quarters and the potluck B-B-Q. I saw a guy on the train that was dressed in the same kind of outfit that the Ghostbusters wore when they were out not bring afraid of no ghosts and I asked him if he was there for the potluck. He said yes, then began to tell me of the glories of being a lamplighter volunteer. He had many little pendants on a length of leather around his neck that were given only to the lamplighters. The lamplighters are a group of people that volunteer to carry poles with twelve kerosene lanterns per pole. They roam the streets of Black Rock City at dusk o hang the lamps on the main streets leading to the Man, and also along the Esplanade. I let him know that I was going to the man this year, my first year, and that I was going to wander. Maybe next year ill carry the poles and light the avenues and ways of Black Rock City. I have yet to decide.
We walked together through the door to BMHQ and the first thing I noticed was the Merhorse art in the foyer. It was weird to be standing there, looking at something that I had seen many many pictures of and never thought that I would see in reality let alone touch. I reached out with tentative fingers and gently grasped the foreleg, the bent one, of a piece of art that was stationed out on the Playa. It was beautiful. Within the same foyer, leading up to the second floor were many poster sized pictures of different Man intensive things. There was a poster of the different stages of the Man burning, I think it was from a few years ago. There was a table set up, also in the foyer, where a woman was hanging out with other people. She would look at men walking by and say “I’ve got a big sausage!” and whip out a kielbasa from her purse. The lamplighter guy split I think upstairs, I saw him around later, and I went through the building looking at the different art pieces and posters. I did a quick look though, as my bladder had been screaming at me for about 45 minutes and I needed to relieve myself. In the bathroom at the urinals there were instructions that the wall needed to be written on before the buildings demise. I didn’t have a pen on me, so I couldn’t add anything pithy or intense to the destructible wall. After relieving myself I went back to the foyer and took my time walking through the building.
The Last Huzzah Part 4
The next stop had a fellow that proceeded to freak out on the driver as he didn’t have the complete fare, he was short about four cents, and whether he needed to get off a few streets early as he didn’t have the fare. And he complained to all that would listen and all that wouldn’t about how the driver, the city, the people in the city, the visitors to the city, and everyone else in the world and/or universe caused the problems of fare increase. So in the end, I think the driver got what he deserved for his racist and idiotic remarks, and probably will for the rest of his working career.
So we rode the little cable car around the city and back again to the civic center, as that was the last cable car ride available in the city. We got back to the civic center and waited and walked and tried to find the right bus stop back to the RV, but little did we know that we had ridden the last bus into the city at the beginning of the adventure. So after hanging out, and walking from stop to stop, and asking passerbies, and using others cell phones we decided to catch a cab back to the RV. That in itself was a quest as the taxis, for some reason, don’t want to stop at the civic center. So we wandered for a bit till we got picked up by a Palestinian taxi driver and we headed back to the RV. Forty dollars lighter and informed of the thoughts and feelings of an immigrant from Palestine we went and found our respective pillows. I set my watch to wake me up for the first ferry into Frisco and fell into slumber.
The next day I got up and duder was feeling frumpy and bumpy. He was working on a serious ear infection, antibiotics and everything, so he was feeling considerably crappy and was in no mood to boogey on to the city. I heated up a few of the shanghai, as I was starvin, handed him one and stuffed the rest along with the bottle of spicy chili sauce into my little pouch I had. The pouch was the sleeve to the bladder that I had bought at the local surplus store, but the bladder made the water so heinous that I got rid of the bladder and used the pouch to carry stuff in. so I stuffed and strolled, taking hits along the way before I got to the ferry area, and bought the ticket to Frisco.
So we rode the little cable car around the city and back again to the civic center, as that was the last cable car ride available in the city. We got back to the civic center and waited and walked and tried to find the right bus stop back to the RV, but little did we know that we had ridden the last bus into the city at the beginning of the adventure. So after hanging out, and walking from stop to stop, and asking passerbies, and using others cell phones we decided to catch a cab back to the RV. That in itself was a quest as the taxis, for some reason, don’t want to stop at the civic center. So we wandered for a bit till we got picked up by a Palestinian taxi driver and we headed back to the RV. Forty dollars lighter and informed of the thoughts and feelings of an immigrant from Palestine we went and found our respective pillows. I set my watch to wake me up for the first ferry into Frisco and fell into slumber.
The next day I got up and duder was feeling frumpy and bumpy. He was working on a serious ear infection, antibiotics and everything, so he was feeling considerably crappy and was in no mood to boogey on to the city. I heated up a few of the shanghai, as I was starvin, handed him one and stuffed the rest along with the bottle of spicy chili sauce into my little pouch I had. The pouch was the sleeve to the bladder that I had bought at the local surplus store, but the bladder made the water so heinous that I got rid of the bladder and used the pouch to carry stuff in. so I stuffed and strolled, taking hits along the way before I got to the ferry area, and bought the ticket to Frisco.
The Last Huzzah Part 3
We first started trying to find the ferry, which was up and over the freeway directly from where we were, but it took walking about to find it, or really to get the right answer to the simple question “Where’s the bus stop around here?” So after finding the ferry and then the bus stop an hour or so later, after crossing the freeway multiple times in multiple ways we made it to the bus stop that actually had the busses stop at them that late in the evening. And that was the catch we should have realized. The time of the evening. But being freaks in need of a good time, that little fact of time tables and bus schedules didn’t dissuade us from our journey, our quest for the city.
We paid the four dollars and fifty-five cents to the bus driver, after questioning two women at the stop with us as to where and what bus we should take, and off we went.
As we rode the bus, through towns like Sausalito, Corte Madera, and Marin. My buddy was amazed, at what I’m not entirely sure. Whether it was the fact that we had finally found the bus, that we were actually on the bus to Frisco, or that he was still rushing from the endorphins coursing through his body still from the excessive walking. So we rode, rode, and rode some more till we got to the Civic Center at the heart of Frisco and we got off of the bus. From there we cruised to the BART train and tried to ride it around. But after buying the ticket to the train and seeing the train speed away before we got to it, we waited a bit till a blonde woman from the BART land of Frisco decided to inform us that that last train, the one right there speeding away, was the last one of the evening. Now that should have been our clue as to the evening’s course, but we were not deterred. We climbed back out onto the street and found the street cable car rides and jumped on them and rode them to the fisherman’s wharf area. The driver was a tallish roundish fellow that had to deal with quite a lot from the commuters he met. I actually had a bit of pity for him, until a black fellow came on the train.
He was having a problem coming up with the fare, a dollar and fifty-five cents I think it was, and was inebriated as well, which I think didn’t help either his ability to fish for change or his ability to converse coherently. So as he’s trying to find the change for his fare another fellow handed him his transfer ticket to use, as he said he had at least five of them already and it was not going to impede his traveling abilities. As the other gent tried to hand the driver his transfer the driver said he wasn’t able to take said transfer. At this point I got the feeling he, the driver, was trying to be either difficult or disagreeable. The other gentleman, he of the transfer ticket giving nature, got up and dumped a handful of change into the change receptacle. As the cable car started forward the one gent, he of the change giving, began to complain about the state of the country and the problems with transit in general. The driver then began to way in with his viewpoint of how people want a free ride and a mess of other inane objections. The one guy, he of the change, stated that in this country he had the right to state his opinion, his first amendment right actually, and an argument ensued till the two guys ended up hitting the stop and getting off the cable car. As they rounded the front of the cable car and ran across the street the driver opened the window closest to him and yelled “Fucking Niggars” and started forward again.
We paid the four dollars and fifty-five cents to the bus driver, after questioning two women at the stop with us as to where and what bus we should take, and off we went.
As we rode the bus, through towns like Sausalito, Corte Madera, and Marin. My buddy was amazed, at what I’m not entirely sure. Whether it was the fact that we had finally found the bus, that we were actually on the bus to Frisco, or that he was still rushing from the endorphins coursing through his body still from the excessive walking. So we rode, rode, and rode some more till we got to the Civic Center at the heart of Frisco and we got off of the bus. From there we cruised to the BART train and tried to ride it around. But after buying the ticket to the train and seeing the train speed away before we got to it, we waited a bit till a blonde woman from the BART land of Frisco decided to inform us that that last train, the one right there speeding away, was the last one of the evening. Now that should have been our clue as to the evening’s course, but we were not deterred. We climbed back out onto the street and found the street cable car rides and jumped on them and rode them to the fisherman’s wharf area. The driver was a tallish roundish fellow that had to deal with quite a lot from the commuters he met. I actually had a bit of pity for him, until a black fellow came on the train.
He was having a problem coming up with the fare, a dollar and fifty-five cents I think it was, and was inebriated as well, which I think didn’t help either his ability to fish for change or his ability to converse coherently. So as he’s trying to find the change for his fare another fellow handed him his transfer ticket to use, as he said he had at least five of them already and it was not going to impede his traveling abilities. As the other gent tried to hand the driver his transfer the driver said he wasn’t able to take said transfer. At this point I got the feeling he, the driver, was trying to be either difficult or disagreeable. The other gentleman, he of the transfer ticket giving nature, got up and dumped a handful of change into the change receptacle. As the cable car started forward the one gent, he of the change giving, began to complain about the state of the country and the problems with transit in general. The driver then began to way in with his viewpoint of how people want a free ride and a mess of other inane objections. The one guy, he of the change, stated that in this country he had the right to state his opinion, his first amendment right actually, and an argument ensued till the two guys ended up hitting the stop and getting off the cable car. As they rounded the front of the cable car and ran across the street the driver opened the window closest to him and yelled “Fucking Niggars” and started forward again.
The Last Huzzah Part 2
Friday came and I waited for what seemed like forever and was actually about six hours till I got the call from the freaky dude. He was heading over, after dropping off the wife and kidlings at the in-laws, and he was driving the rental they had acquired. I let him know the wifeykins was getting off a little earlier then normal and it was on.
I ended up packing the backpack, along with the lumbar butt pack, and the new MOLLE equipment bladder holder for the water and I was set. I filled the Nalgene flask with some Sailor Jerry’s rum and figured I was ready.
The wifeykins showed up just before freaky boy and he helped me carry the tyedyes and the rest of my stuff out to the car he had brought. We both hopped in and it was off to the races.
We made it through the hills and valleys of the central coast up to the house where the RV was at and we got ready to pull out. My stuff was transferred and we made our way to Wally world for some supplies. I needed a liter of coke for the rum, a pair of insoles as the ones I had were beginning to give up the ghost, and a phone card for my suck phone (not a registered company). After the required procurement of said stuffers and thingses we once again got on the road north to the town of Frisco.
The ride was semi uneventful. The road unfolded beneath us and we talked and smoked bowls and hung out. I had researched the RV parks around and within the SF area and had found one at Candlestick Park and a few outside the city. But how far outside we had no idea. He, the buddy of the freakiness, had called the candlestick one and being how it was in a high crime area and was more expensive we opted to go to a small park north of the city proper. It was in a small town called Greenbrae and the site said that the ferry to the city was a short distance away, about a ten minute walk.
We arrived after the normal check in hours and picked a spot right next to the exit. For easier escape in the morning hours. We had a delicious meal of steak and fresh spinach salad and some dehydrated split pea soup. As little freakiness was cooking it, he would cut sections out of the center and eat it, in a weird hunched hiding gesture, and then feign ignorance when I asked him how it tasted.
After the meal we decided to take the bus to the city and check out the crazy night life. And so began the odyssey to make it to the city and back again before the next day using the public transit system.
I ended up packing the backpack, along with the lumbar butt pack, and the new MOLLE equipment bladder holder for the water and I was set. I filled the Nalgene flask with some Sailor Jerry’s rum and figured I was ready.
The wifeykins showed up just before freaky boy and he helped me carry the tyedyes and the rest of my stuff out to the car he had brought. We both hopped in and it was off to the races.
We made it through the hills and valleys of the central coast up to the house where the RV was at and we got ready to pull out. My stuff was transferred and we made our way to Wally world for some supplies. I needed a liter of coke for the rum, a pair of insoles as the ones I had were beginning to give up the ghost, and a phone card for my suck phone (not a registered company). After the required procurement of said stuffers and thingses we once again got on the road north to the town of Frisco.
The ride was semi uneventful. The road unfolded beneath us and we talked and smoked bowls and hung out. I had researched the RV parks around and within the SF area and had found one at Candlestick Park and a few outside the city. But how far outside we had no idea. He, the buddy of the freakiness, had called the candlestick one and being how it was in a high crime area and was more expensive we opted to go to a small park north of the city proper. It was in a small town called Greenbrae and the site said that the ferry to the city was a short distance away, about a ten minute walk.
We arrived after the normal check in hours and picked a spot right next to the exit. For easier escape in the morning hours. We had a delicious meal of steak and fresh spinach salad and some dehydrated split pea soup. As little freakiness was cooking it, he would cut sections out of the center and eat it, in a weird hunched hiding gesture, and then feign ignorance when I asked him how it tasted.
After the meal we decided to take the bus to the city and check out the crazy night life. And so began the odyssey to make it to the city and back again before the next day using the public transit system.
The Last Huzzah Part 1
Once again, even after the eleven hours of sleep I had, I am exhausted. And of course, the trip to Frisco for the last Burning Man hoorah has come and gone. Almost exactly like the building that it was at will be gone as well. Yes little monkeys once again your favorite tye dyed informer has gone and returned, where some fear to tread I might add, to the last gathering of the few, the proud, the freaky at burning man headquarters in San Francisco. This was the to be the last great shindig at said building as the University of California at San Francisco is going to be raising it to the ground and in its stead will be a women and children’s hospital for cancer research I think. Or maybe just a clinic. At any rate it will be for a good cause, and as they (the BM crew that is) knew of the tenuous grip they had on the building, they are fine with it as they knew when they rented the building and are waiting to move somewhere tasty enough for the BMHQ. But I once again get ahead of myself.
This whole moving saga begins, as does most of anything in life, at a hot spring here in California. Well, maybe not everything in life begins at a hot springs, but maybe it should. No maybe, it really should. But I digress. Our freaky buddies had come out from Vermont and we had met them at Franklin hot springs and it was the next day. We were grooving on our early morning soak, weird gas powered RC boats were zipping around the pond and I was getting excited as the next week was another burning man outing I had scheduled for myself. I, of course, invited the freaky buddy to go since it was going to be a one day outing, or so it had been planned that way originally, and he came off with the “why not take the RV?” I ended up staring at him for a bit then said I didn’t think so as I needed to be back for my wife to have the car as she was going to visit a friend a few towns away. Which after I said it didn’t make much sense as she would have the car all weekend and would be free to do what she wanted. So she agreed (what a wifeykins I have I tell ya) and it was on. So as we began to talk, while soaking, it became more involved then when I first planned it. It started with “why don’t we go to Sierraville after the burning man thing dude?” Sierraville hot springs is this awesome hippy sanctuary in northern California where, to keep their non-profit status I think, you have to join their church before you’re allowed to soak. I had been there with him about three years ago and was ready and willing to go back. But once again, as it’s not just about me, I was not sure the wifeykins would be ok with no hubby. Yet when asked the joy that came over her face at the thought of a weekend alone with her kids made her say yes.
So once again I was anticipation.
This whole moving saga begins, as does most of anything in life, at a hot spring here in California. Well, maybe not everything in life begins at a hot springs, but maybe it should. No maybe, it really should. But I digress. Our freaky buddies had come out from Vermont and we had met them at Franklin hot springs and it was the next day. We were grooving on our early morning soak, weird gas powered RC boats were zipping around the pond and I was getting excited as the next week was another burning man outing I had scheduled for myself. I, of course, invited the freaky buddy to go since it was going to be a one day outing, or so it had been planned that way originally, and he came off with the “why not take the RV?” I ended up staring at him for a bit then said I didn’t think so as I needed to be back for my wife to have the car as she was going to visit a friend a few towns away. Which after I said it didn’t make much sense as she would have the car all weekend and would be free to do what she wanted. So she agreed (what a wifeykins I have I tell ya) and it was on. So as we began to talk, while soaking, it became more involved then when I first planned it. It started with “why don’t we go to Sierraville after the burning man thing dude?” Sierraville hot springs is this awesome hippy sanctuary in northern California where, to keep their non-profit status I think, you have to join their church before you’re allowed to soak. I had been there with him about three years ago and was ready and willing to go back. But once again, as it’s not just about me, I was not sure the wifeykins would be ok with no hubby. Yet when asked the joy that came over her face at the thought of a weekend alone with her kids made her say yes.
So once again I was anticipation.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 7
Now the 198, between King City and Coalinga, is a bizarre two lane highway that snakes through different valleys and summits that are actually quite beautiful in the summer as well as in the spring. This time though it was green and beautiful instead of all sere and browned. And it was curvy enough to allow for my heightened, somewhat, sense of awakeness.
I got to his pad around eightish and knocked on the door to their home. He gave me the key to the trailer and I went to go to sleep. As I stood there trying to get the key to work after about ten minutes I realized it must be the wrong key or I was doing something wrong. I took the key he gave me back to him and got another which worked and I was in and out in the time it took me to strip down to the spandex and snuggle into the sleeping bag.
About 6 hours later I woke up and started to get dressed slowly but surely. And no I’m not calling any of you Shirley. I had on my pants and was putting on my shirt when my buddy came around the corner of the doorway. I had asked him to be sure to wake me up by 2p.m. as I had to go get my daughter from the sisters’ house. So there he was, ready to wake me, with a semi-automatic .22 caliber rifle. It was nice to have a big smile on ones face when waking up after a night of rave dancing. So I guess it was more of a smile continuation. I smoked a bit of the frop with him, after a delicious cheeseburger he made me, and was once again on the road. I cracked the other monster and drank it down, and then I took the small one landed road out of the valley and down the range of mountains to the 101 and off to my sisters’ house.
Now they weren’t at the house. They had gone to someone else’s house, a scouting individual I think, that was out in the booneys and I had to find them by constant contact to my wifey who had the directions. Which after driving around the town of Templeton and the outskirts of same said town, I called my bro-in-law. He had no idea where I was but he said that my sis had driven my daughter to their house so I went there and got her. Now for anyone that has ever tried to remain awake for any length of time, it’s hard as hell to actually be able to hold a conversation. But I did try and hopefully I made a small amount of sense. But then again, maybe not. So with girl child in tow, we went together down the road to home, to hearth, and to life after the Burnal Equinox.
I got to his pad around eightish and knocked on the door to their home. He gave me the key to the trailer and I went to go to sleep. As I stood there trying to get the key to work after about ten minutes I realized it must be the wrong key or I was doing something wrong. I took the key he gave me back to him and got another which worked and I was in and out in the time it took me to strip down to the spandex and snuggle into the sleeping bag.
About 6 hours later I woke up and started to get dressed slowly but surely. And no I’m not calling any of you Shirley. I had on my pants and was putting on my shirt when my buddy came around the corner of the doorway. I had asked him to be sure to wake me up by 2p.m. as I had to go get my daughter from the sisters’ house. So there he was, ready to wake me, with a semi-automatic .22 caliber rifle. It was nice to have a big smile on ones face when waking up after a night of rave dancing. So I guess it was more of a smile continuation. I smoked a bit of the frop with him, after a delicious cheeseburger he made me, and was once again on the road. I cracked the other monster and drank it down, and then I took the small one landed road out of the valley and down the range of mountains to the 101 and off to my sisters’ house.
Now they weren’t at the house. They had gone to someone else’s house, a scouting individual I think, that was out in the booneys and I had to find them by constant contact to my wifey who had the directions. Which after driving around the town of Templeton and the outskirts of same said town, I called my bro-in-law. He had no idea where I was but he said that my sis had driven my daughter to their house so I went there and got her. Now for anyone that has ever tried to remain awake for any length of time, it’s hard as hell to actually be able to hold a conversation. But I did try and hopefully I made a small amount of sense. But then again, maybe not. So with girl child in tow, we went together down the road to home, to hearth, and to life after the Burnal Equinox.
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 6
After dancing for a few hours I checked my watch and realized that it was three thirty in the morning. The music in the area I was in, downstairs inside, had stopped and I was standing there trying not to reel and I figured that it was time to go. I had wanted to get the entire experience and had forced myself to stay long after I thought I would go. But since I had hopped myself up on ginseng and monster drinks, I was okay to drive. So I left the pseudo Playa and started my journey back to the land of the straights.
As I had toured most of the streets of San Francisco I was quick and dandy fast on my way out of there and onto the freeway. Of course it was the wrong one, until I realized that the freeway I was on would take me to the 101 that would then take me home. So the next thing was trying to find a 24 hour food joint that was open. As Denny’s was the only place I could think of I spent the next hour or so trying to find one directly off of the freeway, which is no small feat I might add. I passed by an exit somewhere in Santa Clara I think and there was the wondrous yellow sign that shows the way to 24 hour eating. Of course I didn’t notice it till I passed it, so I went to the next exit, flipped the rurudo around, and headed back. I went in, was seated by a cute little Mexican girl with a great smile, and had her not even bother to give me the menu. I knew exactly what I wanted. A side salad with blue cheese dressing, a super bird with fries, and a coffee so I wouldn’t nod out. It arrived quickly and was gone almost as quick. I inhaled my food and a few cups of Joe, and gassed up the tank before I went back to the road. I had to make it as far as my buddies joint to sleep, but as his pad was off of the road about 23 miles down a curvy road of death, I had to be especially careful. And I was fine, until about 7:30 in the A.M. and then I started to nod out. I stopped by the 198 exit, the road to sleepy time, and called the wifey to let her know I was going to be hibernating for a few hours in about 45 minutes, told her I loved her, and was back down the highway.
As I had toured most of the streets of San Francisco I was quick and dandy fast on my way out of there and onto the freeway. Of course it was the wrong one, until I realized that the freeway I was on would take me to the 101 that would then take me home. So the next thing was trying to find a 24 hour food joint that was open. As Denny’s was the only place I could think of I spent the next hour or so trying to find one directly off of the freeway, which is no small feat I might add. I passed by an exit somewhere in Santa Clara I think and there was the wondrous yellow sign that shows the way to 24 hour eating. Of course I didn’t notice it till I passed it, so I went to the next exit, flipped the rurudo around, and headed back. I went in, was seated by a cute little Mexican girl with a great smile, and had her not even bother to give me the menu. I knew exactly what I wanted. A side salad with blue cheese dressing, a super bird with fries, and a coffee so I wouldn’t nod out. It arrived quickly and was gone almost as quick. I inhaled my food and a few cups of Joe, and gassed up the tank before I went back to the road. I had to make it as far as my buddies joint to sleep, but as his pad was off of the road about 23 miles down a curvy road of death, I had to be especially careful. And I was fine, until about 7:30 in the A.M. and then I started to nod out. I stopped by the 198 exit, the road to sleepy time, and called the wifey to let her know I was going to be hibernating for a few hours in about 45 minutes, told her I loved her, and was back down the highway.
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 5
Now mixed into the 140 beats a minute crazy techno electronica there were live bands as well. One was a pretty good bluesy kind of vibe with top hats and Playa wear. There was a gypsy band as well, after the mash up guy, who sang a song called, of all things, “Gypsy”. But it was all about the rave aspect of the night. Many many many DJ’s all great, some more intense then others, but all great. They were mixing, out on the jiggly pier thingy, on a suspended table. It was on rope, looked like climbing rope of all things, and the different equipment was used on the table. The reason being I think they were allowing for swing and dance dance dance.
Now in the middle of all this crazyness, the wifeykins called. Our daughter was at my sisters house and the wifey and the boy child were at home hanging out. Now as I’m standing amongst the last great nomad peoples of North America she begins to say that she would love to sell everything and be nomads. Home school our children on the road and travel the land. Now this really blew my mind as my wifey is a sweet woman whom I love absolutely, but a nomad she ain’t. So I chatted a bit with her, while I was trying to find a quiet spot which was no mean feat I must say, and we signed off from each other with a resounding “I love you”. And I continued to swim through the masses.
Now to some of you, as to me before this experience, I was thinking that the freak out factor would outweigh any and all possible feelings of humanity or community. But I was wrong. Every person I met, including the guys with the fake colored contacts and the hats and the Playa gear, were some of the nicest people around. The overwhelming feeling of humanity and sharing and group goodness was so strong it was hard not to have a perma grin on my face through most of the night. Well, the crazy interplanetary frop these people had helped as well. I was kind of paranoid entering so I didn’t take in my pipe or any joints or anything, and that was a waste of a freak out. I was asked at the entrance whether I had a bag or not, and as I didn’t I walked on through. With all the colors and all the finery, it was a sensational party and gave me my first real vibe of the Playa. And truthfully, it was as if I had come home and my people were there to meet me.
Now in the middle of all this crazyness, the wifeykins called. Our daughter was at my sisters house and the wifey and the boy child were at home hanging out. Now as I’m standing amongst the last great nomad peoples of North America she begins to say that she would love to sell everything and be nomads. Home school our children on the road and travel the land. Now this really blew my mind as my wifey is a sweet woman whom I love absolutely, but a nomad she ain’t. So I chatted a bit with her, while I was trying to find a quiet spot which was no mean feat I must say, and we signed off from each other with a resounding “I love you”. And I continued to swim through the masses.
Now to some of you, as to me before this experience, I was thinking that the freak out factor would outweigh any and all possible feelings of humanity or community. But I was wrong. Every person I met, including the guys with the fake colored contacts and the hats and the Playa gear, were some of the nicest people around. The overwhelming feeling of humanity and sharing and group goodness was so strong it was hard not to have a perma grin on my face through most of the night. Well, the crazy interplanetary frop these people had helped as well. I was kind of paranoid entering so I didn’t take in my pipe or any joints or anything, and that was a waste of a freak out. I was asked at the entrance whether I had a bag or not, and as I didn’t I walked on through. With all the colors and all the finery, it was a sensational party and gave me my first real vibe of the Playa. And truthfully, it was as if I had come home and my people were there to meet me.
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 4
There were four areas, one of which was a private party for a bit, and off limits to us plebian classes, and in each of the areas was a different musical freak out. Being myself, the guy in my clothes that is, I “surfed” the area constantly, with small breaks for dancing and spinning and grooving. One area was, as I said, upstairs. There was one downstairs directly under the one upstairs, one outside by the entrance to the place, and one at the other end on a pier of sorts. The pier one was the most thrilling as every time I was over there dancing I would stop for a moment and feel the entire pier vibrate and jump due to the huge gaggle of people jumping in tandem to the crazy beats spun by the DJ. Upstairs was a guy, he called what he did the mix and match up “as you wait right on the spot for YOU!” He had two wheels one inside the other and would have people, brought up to the wheels by the “mashettes”, who would spin the wheels and then whatever the wheels landed on would be the music he played. One was the music and one would be the vocals. One mash up was sly and the family stone with the music from Breeders cannonball. One was Michael Jackson and beastie boys I think. It was bizarre but tasty at times, though he did kind of peter out at the changes in the music, from one to another that is. He had a ginormous lit up screen with what looked like a windows operating system on it and he would cycle through the different bits and tasty nuggets of music and mash them together. I actually went up to him and said “how bout Dead Kennedy’s and Anne Murray or a hard core religious right onward Christian soldiers?” he said he tried the DK thing, and for a thematic angle it was tasty.
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 3
The first thing I noticed were all the top hats. It seems that the Playa needs aeration in the head so the height of the hat seems to be a factor. At least for some. And then all the kilts. There seems to be a lot of kilts in the Playa which made me think of getting one. After checking the prices when I got back though, the kilt thing is way out of my league. After those two, the myriad changes and fluctuations in the Black Rock plumage varies specie to specie. There was one girl, she had the fur loin cloth thing going and the fur bikini top. A few feathers out of the top of her head and the facsimile of a lithe Native woman was born. There was one girl who had on a pair of whitish chaps with a silvery bedazzle thing going all over it with a orange day glow bikini on and a fur coat. That’s the other thing, fur. Fake fur. Faux fur. The Playa must be cold, or colder then these folks are used to, as the abundance of fur and cloaks and capes and trench coats would show. Now when I had gone to Sacramento to the smaller little get together of Man folks there was a contingent of fur bearers, but in Frisco it was in abundance. Fur cloaks or coats with little underneath and in some cases fur boots as well.
The other thing I noticed was that some people, more then less I might add, were absolutely glowing. One guy was so decked out in what I found out was EL wire that I was forced to ask him how many times he had seen the Disney movie Tron. He said he had seen it at least six times and that of all things there was a Tron 2 trailer on you tube. I have yet to check it out. But back to the guy. He had EL wire all over himself following the lines of the chest armor piece and gloves and goggles he was wearing to the point that you had to stop and realize he had done it all by hand. Another guy had a bike helmet on and in the segmented areas he had put small laser pointers that shone everywhere on the ceiling above him. He was the one that had brought a green glowing hand held “flashlight” of sorts. It projected many separate green beams and when you shook it it would fracture out the beams to quite wonderful end results. At one point during the festivities there was a girl with a section of shimmery cloth and the guy aimed the green beams at the cloth and the beams were fragmented all over the room and the people surrounding her. She moved the cloth in tandem with the beat of the music as well, which in the moment was quite groovus.
The other thing I noticed was that some people, more then less I might add, were absolutely glowing. One guy was so decked out in what I found out was EL wire that I was forced to ask him how many times he had seen the Disney movie Tron. He said he had seen it at least six times and that of all things there was a Tron 2 trailer on you tube. I have yet to check it out. But back to the guy. He had EL wire all over himself following the lines of the chest armor piece and gloves and goggles he was wearing to the point that you had to stop and realize he had done it all by hand. Another guy had a bike helmet on and in the segmented areas he had put small laser pointers that shone everywhere on the ceiling above him. He was the one that had brought a green glowing hand held “flashlight” of sorts. It projected many separate green beams and when you shook it it would fracture out the beams to quite wonderful end results. At one point during the festivities there was a girl with a section of shimmery cloth and the guy aimed the green beams at the cloth and the beams were fragmented all over the room and the people surrounding her. She moved the cloth in tandem with the beat of the music as well, which in the moment was quite groovus.
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 2
The road is long and took me north to the fabled land, and I arrived following the directions from mapquest. Now for some reason when at home I didn’t necessarily print out the maps the way I wanted them. Which I didn’t know until there, on the “streets of the city” as they say, and it was a warren of weird one ways and totally screwed up byways. I went way past the place I needed to go to and had to backtrack, but only once. The place it was at was a nice sized joint called the Mission, I think, as the sign when I arrived said “Flambé’ Lounge” and I knew I was in the right place. I actually knew it was the place because when I drove by the front of it I saw a smaller version of a step side van that was painted with pretty swirlies and spirals and then I saw all the cars and I knew it was the place that would contain my people. And they, the people, were there en masse.
Walking up I forgot I had my knife on me, as I always have my knife on me, and I had to back track a bit and remove it from me and install it in the car. I had a couple puffs off of the pipe of froppery, and headed back to the place. As I walked to the entrance I passed a few street guys living in a small park. Off of the edge of the land there were strange glyphs of wood sunk into the water. Ancient extinct piers. They were beautiful, and I watched them for a time. I finished up my smoke, yes the devil still has my lungs if not my soul, and walked in to my first real burning man experience.
The e-mail I had been sent had said that if you dressed in your Playa finest you would get into the shindig for fifteen dollars instead of twenty. The guy at the front listened to my thoughts on my normal gear I’m in twenty four seven and agreed that it was Playa certified. So fifteen dollars lighter I entered and witnessed the menagerie.
Walking up I forgot I had my knife on me, as I always have my knife on me, and I had to back track a bit and remove it from me and install it in the car. I had a couple puffs off of the pipe of froppery, and headed back to the place. As I walked to the entrance I passed a few street guys living in a small park. Off of the edge of the land there were strange glyphs of wood sunk into the water. Ancient extinct piers. They were beautiful, and I watched them for a time. I finished up my smoke, yes the devil still has my lungs if not my soul, and walked in to my first real burning man experience.
The e-mail I had been sent had said that if you dressed in your Playa finest you would get into the shindig for fifteen dollars instead of twenty. The guy at the front listened to my thoughts on my normal gear I’m in twenty four seven and agreed that it was Playa certified. So fifteen dollars lighter I entered and witnessed the menagerie.
Burnal Equinox 2009 Part 1
Bodies pressed against each other, barely any room to move let alone dance. The music is crystal and electronic, about 4 billion beats a minute and the guy actually mixed in “Jail House Rock” from Elvis. Oh wait, that was the other area of electronic undulation. It was the Burnal Equinox, the time between the last Man burning and the next Man to burn. It was held in San Francisco and I will relate to you the events as they transpired.
The Ford we have, resurrected and ready, somewhat, was traveling fine and dandy thank you very much, when it started to not. So much. It started to have the hitching and weird running and then fine then running then fine, but after the “pedal to the metal” it seemed to still suck. So, that which does not stop me makes me closer to the equinox, I continued out and up, as far as the coast and north are, to the land that rises and falls in very close increments. The land of San Francisco.
On the way I stopped off at a buddy’s, the one that bought the bar then lost the bar that is out in the boondocks, to acknowledge that I was going to be there, at some point in the morningishness, and continued down the road. Well, after a bit of the interplanetary frop that is.
Now for some reason I didn’t get gas before I went up there, and on the way back I was sweating it hard. When I finally made it to a gas station, a small one just outside of Kings City, I filled up the tank. After filling it up I found that I had about a half a tank left before it was finally empty. So after that, it was back to the road and where she took me.
The Ford we have, resurrected and ready, somewhat, was traveling fine and dandy thank you very much, when it started to not. So much. It started to have the hitching and weird running and then fine then running then fine, but after the “pedal to the metal” it seemed to still suck. So, that which does not stop me makes me closer to the equinox, I continued out and up, as far as the coast and north are, to the land that rises and falls in very close increments. The land of San Francisco.
On the way I stopped off at a buddy’s, the one that bought the bar then lost the bar that is out in the boondocks, to acknowledge that I was going to be there, at some point in the morningishness, and continued down the road. Well, after a bit of the interplanetary frop that is.
Now for some reason I didn’t get gas before I went up there, and on the way back I was sweating it hard. When I finally made it to a gas station, a small one just outside of Kings City, I filled up the tank. After filling it up I found that I had about a half a tank left before it was finally empty. So after that, it was back to the road and where she took me.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The Trip to Sac: The Time of Carnal-Val Part 5
I woke up to the gentle sounds of their little monkey talking to her daddy. I looked up and she asked what I was doing, then came over, snuggled up to me and pulled the sleeping bag over herself. So I was able to awake to the snuggles and hugs of a cute little monkey which was good because at least once a day I need kid time especially when I’m away from my kids. I woke up, gradually, and after a bit of candy coffee we ended up going out to lunch.
The place they took me to was called the sizzling tasty Mongolian barbeque. This is the coolest place I’d ever been to. You take a bowl and go into the line were there are different items you place into the bowl. Broccoli, pork, beef, chicken, ham, carrots, bean sprouts, and much more with a huge vat of noodles at the end. There was more stuff and more stuff and more stuff and at the end of the line you were able to choose different sauces and oils and you hand your stuffed bowl over to the cooks at the end. The cooks then take your bowl over to a gigantic round metal donut looking grill and they pour out your food onto it to cook it. As they cook it they push the food around on the grill with two long sticks, spreading it out and moving it around the grill to the hottest areas. It’s dinner and a show really and the food when done was hot and delicious. So we ate and talked and tried to remain conscious, and after the stuff fest we went over to the local BevMo and I bought my buddy a decent bottle of rum.
We went back to his house and got a little more loaded and I was then on the road. I drove and drove and drove and tried like hell to stay conscious and aware. Which I did, barely.
I stopped by another buddy’s house on the way home and stirred his brain with my mixer of burning man, and drove on. He had told me of a new road to the freeway from his house so I took it and was pleasantly surprised. It was a single lane road that wound through the country and out to the 101. I took the freeway and the corresponding smaller highways back to my home by the bay.
The place they took me to was called the sizzling tasty Mongolian barbeque. This is the coolest place I’d ever been to. You take a bowl and go into the line were there are different items you place into the bowl. Broccoli, pork, beef, chicken, ham, carrots, bean sprouts, and much more with a huge vat of noodles at the end. There was more stuff and more stuff and more stuff and at the end of the line you were able to choose different sauces and oils and you hand your stuffed bowl over to the cooks at the end. The cooks then take your bowl over to a gigantic round metal donut looking grill and they pour out your food onto it to cook it. As they cook it they push the food around on the grill with two long sticks, spreading it out and moving it around the grill to the hottest areas. It’s dinner and a show really and the food when done was hot and delicious. So we ate and talked and tried to remain conscious, and after the stuff fest we went over to the local BevMo and I bought my buddy a decent bottle of rum.
We went back to his house and got a little more loaded and I was then on the road. I drove and drove and drove and tried like hell to stay conscious and aware. Which I did, barely.
I stopped by another buddy’s house on the way home and stirred his brain with my mixer of burning man, and drove on. He had told me of a new road to the freeway from his house so I took it and was pleasantly surprised. It was a single lane road that wound through the country and out to the 101. I took the freeway and the corresponding smaller highways back to my home by the bay.
The Trip to Sac: The Time of Carnal-Val Part 4
Now the people there were dressed in their playa dress and it seemed that faux fur was the dress of success. There were long coats that were purple and shaggy with a matching hat. There was a girl there, a very tall girl there, that was in a body stocking with a little purple shiny bikini on over the top of it. She had on a feather hat that was shaped like an old top hat. There were a lot of top hats around the bar and you could tell who had been to the Man and who was a friend of someone that had been to the Man. There were also a lot of goggles and bare chests. At least male bare chests.
As I was standing there drinking water and trying to tell if I had sobered up from my meager two drinks, after the belly dancing if the acid wasn’t tickling your cerebral cortex the night was somewhat dull, a dude shambled up to the bar and offered to rochambeau for a drink. Best two out of three. So I threw out a scissor, a paper, and a scissor and another captain and coke came my way. I hope I see him on the playa so I can return the favor or at least get the dude loaded. So I drank the drink and had two more waters and after about an hour we went the long road back to the house of duder.
We went in and his woman said “You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She was right, but after we described the fun she understood and that was that.
Due to her, my buddies woman, insomnia I was up till at least five in the morning chatting. Ghosts, haunted houses, and craftiness were the main topics of conversation. I think we also covered cesarean birth and ovary pain. Lots and lots and lots of chatter until the pass out stage had been met. I ended up passing out on their floor in my sleeping bag on a blow up bed she had put up for me and I dreamed of playa times and half naked women.
As I was standing there drinking water and trying to tell if I had sobered up from my meager two drinks, after the belly dancing if the acid wasn’t tickling your cerebral cortex the night was somewhat dull, a dude shambled up to the bar and offered to rochambeau for a drink. Best two out of three. So I threw out a scissor, a paper, and a scissor and another captain and coke came my way. I hope I see him on the playa so I can return the favor or at least get the dude loaded. So I drank the drink and had two more waters and after about an hour we went the long road back to the house of duder.
We went in and his woman said “You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She was right, but after we described the fun she understood and that was that.
Due to her, my buddies woman, insomnia I was up till at least five in the morning chatting. Ghosts, haunted houses, and craftiness were the main topics of conversation. I think we also covered cesarean birth and ovary pain. Lots and lots and lots of chatter until the pass out stage had been met. I ended up passing out on their floor in my sleeping bag on a blow up bed she had put up for me and I dreamed of playa times and half naked women.
The Trip to Sac: The Time of Carnal-Val Part 3
About that time my buddy came up with a great way to describe the event. He said it was like waiting for a hit of bunk acid to hit. You didn’t know it was bunk, but after hours the wait was telling enough. Now this doesn’t mean it was sucking completely, it was just kind of a let down after hours of driving and waiting and anticipation for my first taste of Man art. I’m not saying I was disappointed, I just think if I had dropped some acid it would have been more awe inspiring. So there we stood, sipping, in my case sucking, on our drinks until the belly dancer girls came out.
Now let me first say that these women, attractive tatted snake moving women, were quite attractive. And then they started to dance and their looks, as much as they could, faded a bit and their dancing was the focal point. They went for at least fifteen minutes or more. And we’re not talking your grandma’s belly dancing. The music they choose started off as the semi-normal belly dancing Indian vibe, but from there they went to a techno wonderland of undulation and floor crawling. I was amazed as was everyone else in the place. After that I needed a smoke so I retired outside on the smallish patio that they had there.
Outside was a collection of normal park bench type sitting along a small wall, with a couch on the opposite wall. The couch had a pair of mannequin legs sticking up from it, the feet aimed towards the sky, and there was a dude with an amazingly colored shirt snapping photos of it. So I choked down a cig and went back inside.
The music was a deafening thumping beat that didn’t stop for hours, and melded into and out of itself. You couldn’t stop your movement. You would jiggle and bounce, even at the bar, and the drinks flowed.
Now let me first say that these women, attractive tatted snake moving women, were quite attractive. And then they started to dance and their looks, as much as they could, faded a bit and their dancing was the focal point. They went for at least fifteen minutes or more. And we’re not talking your grandma’s belly dancing. The music they choose started off as the semi-normal belly dancing Indian vibe, but from there they went to a techno wonderland of undulation and floor crawling. I was amazed as was everyone else in the place. After that I needed a smoke so I retired outside on the smallish patio that they had there.
Outside was a collection of normal park bench type sitting along a small wall, with a couch on the opposite wall. The couch had a pair of mannequin legs sticking up from it, the feet aimed towards the sky, and there was a dude with an amazingly colored shirt snapping photos of it. So I choked down a cig and went back inside.
The music was a deafening thumping beat that didn’t stop for hours, and melded into and out of itself. You couldn’t stop your movement. You would jiggle and bounce, even at the bar, and the drinks flowed.
The Trip to Sac: The Time of Carnal-Val Part 2
Well, the adventure began on the wrong freeway, cutting across Sacramento in a criss cross pattern until he called his woman and asked her to check the location. With location acquired and, hopefully, remembered we made our way to the Silk bar. As we drove down the street to the place he stated “Here it is.” and I was unsure this was the place until I saw the little burning man in EL wire outside the place, glowing in the night. I slowed down and went by the place slowly and checked out the car level in the parking area. There seemed to be two trailers and about 4 cars which seemed like a smallish group for something so intensive and all encompassing. So with heavy heart we went around the corner and parked the car in the street.
We walked over to the entrance, which was around the back, and as we got there the parking lot was more full then it had seemed from the street so our hearts lightened somewhat. Somewhat. As we entered the first thing I noticed was a guy in a really bitchin’ leather kilt. He stated that since he had worked for the company for years he decided that he should have one of the products himself. And we were in.
The art pieces were small, but one of them, the squid thingy on the wall, was impressive. It was glowing softly from the inside and had puffy little arms spread along the wall. There was another piece that was internally lighted and in the shape of a pyramid with a gigantic eye on it. It was about four and a half feet tall. That was it.
We walked over to the entrance, which was around the back, and as we got there the parking lot was more full then it had seemed from the street so our hearts lightened somewhat. Somewhat. As we entered the first thing I noticed was a guy in a really bitchin’ leather kilt. He stated that since he had worked for the company for years he decided that he should have one of the products himself. And we were in.
The art pieces were small, but one of them, the squid thingy on the wall, was impressive. It was glowing softly from the inside and had puffy little arms spread along the wall. There was another piece that was internally lighted and in the shape of a pyramid with a gigantic eye on it. It was about four and a half feet tall. That was it.
The Trip to Sac: The Time of Carnal-Val Part 1
Ahhh the torture of being a gypsy in the wilds of California.
There was a strange meeting of like minded Playa people in Sacramento that was opened to the straights and for a taste of playa people I was bound and determined to go. So I tried to get the one car, our ford of all things, to resurrect but I was unable to do it. As the other car was unregistered do to an inability to smog it, the smoke from the undercarriage would probably non-passable it, I went to the internet and checked the prices on rental cars. After much whining and pleading, with the “looks” from the wifeykins, I rented a car the next day. The beginning of that day started at 7:30 A.M. as I was struggling to fix the ford. I was unable to get it done as I didn’t have the right socket for the job. I had a shorty and the longy was needed, so I went back into the house and pleaded a bit more and then we were driving down to the airport and getting a car. A few moments later I was behind the wheel of what I affectionately referred to as the “pimp mobile”. It was a mercury sable, unsure of the year though. So electronic everything installed I shot back to the casa, after caffinating the wifeykins at her favorite place of coffee worship, I went back home, threw the stuff I would need into the car, and was on my way to Sac town.
I traveled through the rolling hills of California, down the 46 highway through the center of the state, smokin’ a little interplanetary frop, and listenin to the tunes off of the powerhouse of the valley, KRAB radio. Fairly uneventful ride, a great double double with grilled onions from In and Out and I arrived at my buddy’s house around fourish in the afternoon. After many squeezles and love, we retired to his garage and commenced to smoke the crazy interplanetary frop and get glassy eyed. The festivities started at eight in the evening and as the joint was at, according to the buddy, a close proximity to his domicile we decided that 7:30ish was around the time to go. So we hung out, got a few five dollar foot longs from Subway, and were on the road before you could slowly and gigglingly say “Ggggggooooooooooo”.
There was a strange meeting of like minded Playa people in Sacramento that was opened to the straights and for a taste of playa people I was bound and determined to go. So I tried to get the one car, our ford of all things, to resurrect but I was unable to do it. As the other car was unregistered do to an inability to smog it, the smoke from the undercarriage would probably non-passable it, I went to the internet and checked the prices on rental cars. After much whining and pleading, with the “looks” from the wifeykins, I rented a car the next day. The beginning of that day started at 7:30 A.M. as I was struggling to fix the ford. I was unable to get it done as I didn’t have the right socket for the job. I had a shorty and the longy was needed, so I went back into the house and pleaded a bit more and then we were driving down to the airport and getting a car. A few moments later I was behind the wheel of what I affectionately referred to as the “pimp mobile”. It was a mercury sable, unsure of the year though. So electronic everything installed I shot back to the casa, after caffinating the wifeykins at her favorite place of coffee worship, I went back home, threw the stuff I would need into the car, and was on my way to Sac town.
I traveled through the rolling hills of California, down the 46 highway through the center of the state, smokin’ a little interplanetary frop, and listenin to the tunes off of the powerhouse of the valley, KRAB radio. Fairly uneventful ride, a great double double with grilled onions from In and Out and I arrived at my buddy’s house around fourish in the afternoon. After many squeezles and love, we retired to his garage and commenced to smoke the crazy interplanetary frop and get glassy eyed. The festivities started at eight in the evening and as the joint was at, according to the buddy, a close proximity to his domicile we decided that 7:30ish was around the time to go. So we hung out, got a few five dollar foot longs from Subway, and were on the road before you could slowly and gigglingly say “Ggggggooooooooooo”.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Lysergafunkalicious
It Begins,
The first take, as it hits the tongue,
Is almost the same as chewin’ on a penny.
The worm turns and grinds in your mind,
It burrows deep and shows you things.
What you may ask?
The doors of perception,
The ones that yogi’s try for lifetimes,
To meditate their freak on,
To get to the ohm of oneness,
But whitey needs no time,
Just a jaunt of twelve to fourteen hours,
And the oneness is reached and surpassed.
A story I heard said,
There was this guy.
Don’t they always start off like that?
So he goes up a mountain,
Stairways to the gods,
Up, and up, and up,
Into the places in the clouds.
He brought with him the dose,
To see if they felt,
To see if they see,
He gave them a lot man,
Mics on mics,
And it did…..
Nothing.
The fact that they were there,
Is not wasted on those of us,
That have allowed the boot,
To enter our minds,
And kick open those doors of perception,
And free us from the land,
And from the world.
The first take, as it hits the tongue,
Is almost the same as chewin’ on a penny.
The worm turns and grinds in your mind,
It burrows deep and shows you things.
What you may ask?
The doors of perception,
The ones that yogi’s try for lifetimes,
To meditate their freak on,
To get to the ohm of oneness,
But whitey needs no time,
Just a jaunt of twelve to fourteen hours,
And the oneness is reached and surpassed.
A story I heard said,
There was this guy.
Don’t they always start off like that?
So he goes up a mountain,
Stairways to the gods,
Up, and up, and up,
Into the places in the clouds.
He brought with him the dose,
To see if they felt,
To see if they see,
He gave them a lot man,
Mics on mics,
And it did…..
Nothing.
The fact that they were there,
Is not wasted on those of us,
That have allowed the boot,
To enter our minds,
And kick open those doors of perception,
And free us from the land,
And from the world.
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