Burning Man 2008: IS A WORLD WITHOUT COMMERCIALISM A DAY WITHOUT SUNSHINE? ONLY IF YOU’RE SELLING OJ
LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION!
DCP Zone, CA – Tuesday morning brought out the best in Black Rock City, the home of the Burning Man and my greatest adventure – bar none! The mother of all dust storms was over and the skies were a clear blue. People continued to stream into the ‘city’ 
and build their campsites, structures, and habitats, so it was time to shake the mud ball bearings from my eye sockets and look around at the neighborhood we had staked our campsite in. First, we were close to a line of porta-potties that were serviced so well by United, who replaced ‘Johnny-on-the-spot’ cause Johnny wasn’t according to some of last year’s ‘burners’. This close-to-the-John accessibility also provided a continuing eye-opener as many of the young women who looked like SI models and visited the potties came dressed for the weather. (Ed. Note, if you are under 18 and reading this report, please
go and tune in Spongebob or the Fairly Oddparents as the rest of this article will be a hard PG-13. OK, you’ve been warned).
Dressing for the weather in Black Rock City means clothing is optional, be ye male or female. Interestingly enough I had been having a conversation about this very idea with some Muslim friends of mine. I held the position that if clothing became extinct in a flash, people (guys) would gawk a bit at first then the ‘newness’ or in this case the ‘nudeness’ would wear off and we would forget our shame incurred from The Garden Caper. The society of Burning Man and the city of Black Rock proved me right in my opinion. Whether you were a ‘shower’ ( a male whose penis is already as large as it will get exc
ept flaccid), or a ‘grower’ (a male whose penis grows longer & larger when going from the flaccid state), or a model from America’s Next Top Model show like JL who placed fifth last season, no one gawked at you, either male or female. The body is accepted just the way God delivered you into the ‘Default World’. Of cou
rse not everyone was doing a full Monty but the ones who were came in all ages. (I broke down once as I ran behind a water truck for an impromptu shower).
Some people on learning that I was a writer worried that The Man might become mainstream but I don’t think that will ever happen because to come here, you can’t be homophobic or a prude. You can’t depend on money to give you status. You can’t buy a drink here* or impress a woman with your bling. With the absence of commercialism and money to set up a class structure, the BRC is a level playing field for all the people there, young and old, fat and thin, tanned or white as a ghost. Of course having daytime temps in the 90’s-110° range fosters that freedom and liberation. But it’s more than that at BRC. And the location we had was awesome.
Besides our three friends at Coffee Camp, there was another campsite facing Dart Street just in front of our camp. Three college girls, two wit
h male companions, took open showers periodically. Across the street on ‘D’ was a large camp that played a lot of Rolling Stones and had a triple X bar lounge but I never did find out why they had the triple X nam
e. Next to that bar sat a fire truck that had its hook ‘n’ ladder fully extended (a ‘shower’) where people who climbed to the top rang a bell. One afternoon a young lady performed various trapeze stunts using a sash that dropped from the ladder. Against the setting sun backdrop it was hard to see whether she was performing ala cart.
Behind the fire truck was parked a ‘mutant’ vehicle that resembled a very large bug with two big eyes that were actually metal grill framing that held any bicycles put there. Mutant vehicles are called ‘art cars’ and this one was my redeeming ‘landmark’ that pointed me back to my side of town after the mind-altering after-burn walk around the smoldering Man early Sunday morning long before the crack of dawn. But perhaps the coolest feature close
to our corner real estate was a place that became my favorite watering hole, a place called both ‘Raise the Bar’ and the Spectator Camp. My name for it was the Tree Top Lounge because it was as high as a tree top 
and offered a compelling view of the city.
I’ll cover this bar in more detail in ‘A Place Where Everybody Knows You’re Game’.
The TTL operates in one of the three ways you can obtain a drink, be it a beer, a highball, or a cup of ice, at Burning Man*. At the TTL you throw the dice, then you perform as indicated by the number you threw that is written down on a cardboard menu. At other establishments you may either spin a wheel of fortune or mosey up to the bar with your empty cup and just a parched look on your face to receive a drink.
One other mention about my favorite bar this time out is the fact that they provided live entertainment through a funky, hot seven piece band called Moogot2 
(moo-got-two) who came over from Humboldt County and played in the adjacent camp lot. For those of you who know me from reporting the new music scene around the Valley, you know that this ‘live entertainment’, playing original music within walking distance, was ambrosia for me.
To be continued…
Next: So Many Bars, So Little Time – A Place Where Everybody Knows You’re Game
(*- You may use money to purchase coffee at Center Camp, the only spot for it)
All Photos my columns PTR/BRC 2008 used with permission.