[MD] Thrills, Spills and Chills

[John Carl]

Like an approaching storm Ron, the story's unfolding approaches inevitably.
 When it hits, I hope your structures are well anchored.



On Thu, Nov 12, 2009 at 6:03 AM, X Acto <xacto at rocketmail.com> wrote:

> 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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