[MD] MOQ/BOC

[MarshaV]

Krimel, John,  



Brings to mind a quote from a favorite movie:

Rafi Gardet:  His penis is so beautiful I just want to knit it a hat.   



Marsha 



On Aug 13, 2010, at 12:56 PM, John Carl wrote:

> Krimel,
> 
> You caught me off guard with this one.  Thank YOU.
> 
> I went to Burning man once, where the patterns you describe ( the creation
> of streets, sharing and nudity) all have evolved into an annual event, and
> it's interesting to consider the many similarities, even though years and
> years and a continent away.    One wonders if we took a group of stock
> brokers and cops, and stuck them in some muddy situation with no real social
> guidelines, if they'd start shedding clothes.  Or do you have to have a
> pre-existing hippy, drugs and fun mentality in order for these patterns to
> exhibit themselves?
> 
> I wonder if I could get some kind of scientific grant, to study naked girls
> and puppies and music and drugs.    If you could put the request together
> for me, I'd be eternally grateful.
> 
> John
> 
> 
> 
> On Fri, Aug 13, 2010 at 9:43 AM, Krimel <Krimel at krimel.com> wrote:
> 
>> Hi Dan,
>> More years ago than I can count exactly, I went to a rock festival. It was
>> in those post Woodstock years when many of us felt empty and incomplete
>> because we had missed one of the defining moments of our generation. Some
>> would end up lying in our waning years,  concocting outrageous tales of our
>> back stage exploit with dead rock idols. But I am a horrible liar.
>> 
>> It started when a buddy of mine saw a poster advertising a festival called
>> "The Celebration of Life." It was to be in Louisiana and would feature
>> people like Joe Cocker, Chuck Berry and The Animals. Bunches of bands like
>> Pink Floyd and the Allman Brothers were supposed to show but didn't.
>> 
>> At this remove I can't say why adult authority didn't step in but four of
>> us
>> barely out of high school scrounged up enough cash, loaded our camping gear
>> into the trunk of a '61 Impala and headed out for our first road trip. I
>> was
>> shocked at the Florida/Alabama border where Interstate 10 abruptly turned
>> into two lane blacktop. I think George Wallace was still governor at the
>> time and perhaps federal highway construction was not a priority.
>> 
>> The four of us were looking forward to getting to Louisiana because the
>> legal drinking age at least for beer and wine was 18. We spent a night
>> jammed into a cheap hotel drinking Boonesfarm Apple. As it turned out the
>> concert promoters had done less that a stellar job of organizing and
>> eventually it seemed like 50,000 of us got diverted off of the state's
>> highways and onto a network of dirt roads that ran across the top of a
>> system of levies.
>> 
>> We spent to next night on top of the levies meeting hippies and stoners
>> from
>> Tulsa and New York. By the middle of the second day it became questionable
>> as to whether there really would be a "Celebration of Life" at least in the
>> musical sense. There was a bit of frustration of course but pretty soon
>> people began to celebrate in ways of their own. We were parked near a small
>> stream or maybe a pond... it's been awhile... At any rate someone got the
>> bright idea of rolling around in the mud until completely covered in the
>> stuff. Pretty soon a whole species of mud people emerged from the ooze.
>> After a skinny dip in the pond and a roll in the slime, they walked around
>> the levy tops wearing nothing but mud.
>> 
>> Trapped as we were off the beaten path people shared their food and wine
>> and
>> substances and although there were none of the usual trappings of
>> civilization a kind of pleasant social order emerged. If you had a bottle
>> of
>> wine and someone asked for a hit you gave them a hit. Perhaps it was the
>> sound of Neil Young's After the Gold Rush album streaming out of the back
>> of
>> microbuses but it changed my ideas about the nature of the social order.
>> Here people were being kind to one another without the formal force of law
>> and order. Many of the traditional social conventions remained while others
>> were discarded or treated as optional; clothing for example.
>> 
>> At some point the State of Louisiana supplies a host of state troopers and
>> cops from far flung parishes to supervise. There wasn't really much they
>> could do but try to keep the peace and there was already plenty of that.
>> Any
>> attempt to enforce "laws" that were being treated as optional by the
>> community would have been disastrous, time consuming and ultimately futile.
>> 
>> I think it was on the third morning I was sitting on the hood of the Impala
>> listening to Neil's falsetto... "Well, I dreamed I saw the knights in armor
>> coming."
>> 
>> There was a Louisiana state trooper with dark aviator glasses and blue
>> Smokey hat sitting on a horse near me with his arms crossed. He was a big
>> man and his saddle creaked that leather sound when he or the horse moved.
>> 
>> "Sayin' something about a queen..."
>> 
>> It was hot, summer hot, Mississippi delta muggy hot, but we were in a shady
>> patch and it was still morning and we had the midday sun head of us. After
>> a
>> while a girl walked by with two black and white puppies on leashes. The
>> pups
>> bounced along the dirt road with their tiny tongue moving in time with
>> their
>> breath and adorable pink wet noses sniffing the air.
>> 
>> "There was a fanfare blowin' to the sun. That floated on the breeze..."
>> 
>> The girl was beautiful. Dark hair pull back in a bun, wearing only a pair
>> of
>> black panties. Her breasts bounced before her in perfect harmony with the
>> puppies. Round and liquid they swayed and rippled, nipples catching the
>> breeze. It was a symphony of sound and color and movement that sings to me
>> from the edge of a bayou, distant in space and time.
>> 
>> "There was a band playin' in my head. And I felt like getting high"
>> 
>> The troop watched her pass, the aviators concealed his emotion at this
>> flagrant violation of Louisiana state law. But as she passed he tipped his
>> hat and I distinctly heard him tell her, "If you got it. Flaunt it, I say."
>> 
>> "There were children crying and colors flying, all around the chosen
>> ones..."
>> 
>> Eventually there actually was music at the festival. The anarchy continued
>> and midway through the event, streets formed in the makeshift "city."
>> Troopers idled their time away at intersections marked by card board signs
>> proclaiming the meeting of "Smack Street" and "Cocaine Lane." On the last
>> night we were there someone was advertising a future street festival in LA.
>> They passed out postcards in the crowd. On the post cards there was a
>> drawing of a sun with a small orange barrel pasted in to add color. Turned
>> out the barrels were orange sunshine, a powerful close cousin to Purple
>> Haze, but without a song of their own...
>> 
>> "All in a dream, all in a dream..."
>> 
>> I still think of those black and white puppies and those perfect breasts
>> from time to time. Noses and upright nipples catching the breeze in harmony
>> with the crazy rhythm of jello beneath those nipples and the wide V of
>> those
>> black panties shrinking in the distance as she passed with that trooper's
>> wisdom hanging in the air. "If you got it, Flaunt it, I say..."
>> 
>> "Flyin' mother nature's silver seed. To a new home in the sun..."
>> 
>> Beyond noses and nipples and my eternal gratitude that she was not one of
>> those mud people, there is no-point to any of this.
>> There is no-reason for it.
>> I have no-thing to flaunt.
>> 
>> And so, I did...
>> 
>> Which, I suppose, brings to mind another bit of Louisiana folk wisdom that
>> applies equally  to nipples and Zen-esque MoQ posts: "If you can't lick 'em
>> join 'em, I say."
>> 
>> Thank You,
>> Krimel
>> 
>> 
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