[MD] Thrills, Spills and Chills

[X Acto]

John,
what happened when the storm hit? did the SIP survive?
did the pinkie heal? did you finish the beer? did Chris
lighten up? did you steal another bike? touch a boobie?



----- Original Message ----
From: John Carl <ridgecoyote at gmail.com>
To: moq_discuss at moqtalk.org
Sent: Thu, November 5, 2009 12:23:42 PM
Subject: [MD] Thrills, Spills and Chills

Thrills <http://popup.lala.com/popup/1657606176771507454>


by Cake


Man is born, man lives, and man dies

And it's all vanity.


And that's about the way it is in the merry-go-round

You get on, you go around, standing in the saddle


Man is born, man lives, and man dies

And it's all vanity.


He tried thrills

He said i gave myself to enjoy pleasure

What are teenagers doing today?

They're trying every thrill there is in the books.

They got color TV.

But it is still isn't satisfying.


Man is born, man lives, and man dies

And it's all vanity.


You can't understand it

It's going so loud and so forth

And they're a-wigglin' and a-wobblin' around

And everything else

And, and, and yet they're not satisfied

And, and these disc jockeys,

They hear the tune that is different.


Man is born, man lives, and man dies

And it's all vanity.



When we arrived at Burning Man,  I scattered the SIPs off the trailer,
arranged a sleeping space and headed out toward the music.  Chris stayed at
the camp.  He had a headache.  Chris suffers from headaches and depression
and he was depressed because he had bought his ticket second-hand over the
internet and it wasn't waiting for him in will call and we had to buy
another for him.  I had enough with me to pay for the ticket and I'd
promised to pay his way anyway and I didn't care so I didn't see why he
should.  But he did.  To my thinking, to let one small glitch ruin his
experience was the height of foolishness.  So I was glad to scamper off into
the magical night alone and leave Chris to his gloom.


Music, dancing, art, under the full moon gave me plenty to do.  A total
lunar eclipse was scheduled for 3:00 AM.  I don't know how they managed
that, but it was amazing.  Since I'd decided that the most efficient way to
bring plenty of beer to the desert was to bring a keg, I availed myself
freely.  A whole keg for Chris and me, and he doesn't even drink beer.  I
figured I'd drink as much as I could while we still had ice left.


There was one thing I'd heard about at Burning Man that I'd always wanted to
try - stealing a bicycle.  There is a saying, "no bike is stolen till the
last day."  It's a tradition that if you have a bike with no fancy
decorations, lights or personal markings it is fair game to be whisked away
by anybody needing one, and believe me, at Burning Man you need one.  I went
from place to place, dropping the bike I was riding to go and see what there
was to see, dance what there was to dance, then getting on a completely
different bike and going to another place.  What mayhem I must have been
creating for every time I stole somebody's ride, they of course had to steal
somebody else's bike, who then... you get the picture?  It was like a vast
game of negative pay it forward.


It was so exhilarating!  I've never stolen anything in my life and this
experience of communal borrowing/sharing was a feeling of freedom from the
tyranny of possesiveness and protectiveness that we're all saddled with day
to day.  Being half drunk probably contributed to the feeling.


Exhilaration, strange bikes and much beer add up to a recipe for disaster
and mine came sometime before the eclipse when I took a nasty tumble and
hurt my pinky finger.  The next day, it hurt so much I figure I must have
broken it and at the central coffee lounge of burning man (they only have
two vendors at Burning man, the only things you can buy when you get there
are ice and coffee)  and I overheard a girl complaining about the fact that
last night somebody stole her bike, and how it just ruined her evening.
Evidently she didn't know how the game was played.  My finger throbbed. I
saw it as karmic repercussion for contributing to somebody's misery and
thus viewed my own suffering noble.


The big news though everywhere  was while the moon was eclipsing, somebody
set the man on fire.  This was the infamous year of the "early burn".  In
Burning man lore, there is always a movement to burn the man early; this
year somebody actually gave it a good try.  He was widely reviled but toward
the end of the week, I was so fed up with the constant techno music
throbbing throbbing throbbing, the Las Vegas - oriented corporate sponsored
garishness of it all that I was on his side.  I'd have burned the Man myself
if I had the opportunity.  I hadn't witnessed the early burn except as I
was


My beer was warm, my finger hurt, my SIP house had come together nicely but
while lots of people were interested in it, I certainly hadn't had any
orders.  It was a good place to demonstrate product, but a lousy place to
close a sale.  And the loud and constant music had gotten annoying.  The
naked girls on parade had gotten old and I missed my wife.  Enough with
boobies all over the place!  I wanted real ones I could touch and snuggle at
night.  I was bummed.  I wanted to go home.


And then came the storm...
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