Post-Burn Report 2010

I just re-read my Pre-Playa report and noticed that it's lacking vastly-not only in proper wording and grammar, but also in content validity-as predicted. This is due in part to my tongue-in-cheek, gonzo journalism, and in part to a complete inability by anyone to accurately predict or execute anything in such an environment.

A few aspects were easy to predict. I was right about the hot, dry and sunny conditions and, of course, the dustiness. You can't go wrong predicting thieving hippies or the need for carbonated beverages, I suppose. The second appearance of a double rainbow, and can it be, even triple rainbow on opening Monday was less expected, however, as were the intense rains that summoned them.

Fortunately, I was wrong about other key factors. The bug situation, for example, was auspiciously resolved before the start of the event. I'm not sure if they were just passing through or if killing every single bug we saw actually did the trick. Did anyone bring bug zappers, anyway? What about the flame throwers? I didn't see many and I was disappointed about that.

The thousands of people who poured into the city on opening Monday were thankful that I was incorrect about the long lines at the gate. Since the layout of gate road was drastically re-engineered, no one could foretell the ease and efficacy of this year's gate process. A few brilliant engineers designed a sorting point to provide space for navigating among Will Call, D-Lot and Staging lots. This slashed wait times, as did the "soft-opening" that let citizens pour in a full six hours early.

As a worker for the gate, I got to enjoy another ingenious addition to this year's gate-the "standing D-Lot," or "D-Pen," as I referred to it. This small area was blocked off by trash fence, complete with a bouncy Pooh Bear ball and a burn barrel, to take care of the special arrivals who showed up needing a ticket, or those who got caught sneaking in.

Short of a little friendly harassment and the penalty of having to walk into an area marked by a sign reading, "Entering 25-40 IQ Zone," these participants got in as smoothly as the other thousands of citizens who waited an estimated 5 to 8 hours less than in previous years. The comedic characters who occupied that pen provided someof the most entertaining experiences of my Burn. There was the guy dressed in bondage holding a sign looking for a master, and several shoeless hippies with all variety of sob stories about how they ended up in the middle of the desert unprepared and un-ticketed. I had no clue how many people would show up without a clue.

So, even the headline of my pre-Playa article was blatantly erroneous. I warned sardonically that "Burning Man was not going to be that good this year..." it's just something I heard, okay? I guess everything you hear online isn't true-indeed, Burning Man was nothing short of epic this year. For me, the shenanigans and celebrations in the two weeks before the event were more genuine and fulfilling than the parties the week-of. Rolling around Playa in a '76 Lincoln Town-Car Limousine and taking afternoon breaks at the near-by hot springs just can't be topped in some ways. Neither can working as the first smiling face at our fair city gate to ensure that thousands of citizens enter the city fairly and safely.

As the city became populated, the pleasures and challenges intensified. On the first Tuesday of the event, the Thunderdome stuck up with lights and cheers for the annual DPW family night, when DPW workers are invited to duel it out in the most notorious grudge-buster at Burning Man. Perched in one of the triangles about half-way up the dome, I watched as several sets of contenders battled it out. Medics stood by in case of injury, but no one was expecting that the most severe injury would be inflicted on one audience member from another. I didn't witness the fall but I looked over when I saw an interruption in the crowd below. A girl had fallen from about the same height as my perch and had already run off by the time I looked down to see my friend and fellow crew member, Zero, gasping for breath as he went down with his eyes rolling back in his head. He sustained only a compression fracture to his L-1 vertebrae, which was nothing short of miraculous considering the severity of the impact.

Luckily, most of the epic moments were of a much lighter note. I got to hang out with many of the artists from Megatropolis, American Steel's giant industrial plant-life sculptures (which many people mistakenly accredited to the Flaming Lotus Girls, who actually played a major hand in this year's Temple construction). One of the Temple crew just happened to be the guy responsible for that cute little YouTube cartoon that I was quoting in the previous report. Meeting him was definitely an epic contribution to my experience this year.

The parties at Nexus and Entheon Village definitely did not suck, and everyone seemed to agree that this year's art was plentiful and thought-provoking. Some of the smaller camps provided the most fun, though. I visited the Petting Zoo, step-child of Gigsville, as often as possible, since I consider it to be the best daytime bar on the Playa. While drinking one of their potent concoctions, I was invited to serve as maid of honor in a Playa wedding. The bride and groom exchanged outrageous vows of socio-economic status and spilled champagne all over each other as their drunken wedding party cheered on ...I don't think I ever did find out their names.

The Stone Cold Belligerence Camp across the street hosted a small reception. Aptly named, this is by far the most belligerent camp on the playa-Again and again. The neighbor's Disk Golf goal was broken in the middle of the camp, duct taped and wired to their shade structure. The immediate surroundings included, but were not limited to, spilled beers, broken chairs, tents half-collapsed and covered in mayonnaise, and several half-naked people drunkenly yelling obscenities and wallowing on a muddy tarp they had created from Playa dust and beer-Madness-and I loved every minute of it.

Hats off to those of you who made Burning Man your own, and especially to those who work your butts off for half the year so everyone else can be carefree for one week. See you at Decom.