Burning Man 2008 - A WAVE GOOD-BYE, WITH A TEAR IN MY EYE

September 29, 2008 by PT Rothschild.

“IN THE WORLD, BUT NOT OF THE (DEFAULT) WORLD”

Temecula, CA – Although the title says it all, the tear and the accompanying ‘lump in the throat’ actually came on Friday morning, two days before we left. The words ‘Burning Man’ are constantly in the air (along with the Playa dust), in the notes and in the limericks by Gonzo Frothwood which are found inside and out on every potty (at least all the ones in our ‘hood), where you could even find ‘moop’ (matter out of place, which is usually souvenir stuff left anonymously on occasion but towards the end, of course, dropped trash too), and in symbols everywhere. So the whole week is leading up to the Man burning. On Friday I realized that in one more day the Man burned. Unlike the Kentucky Derby, which is also a week long festival event, the Man was going to burn a lot longer than two minutes in climax. So you would think that I’d be dreaming about returning to daily showers, ‘real’ food gotten at my convenience, my own space overlooking this beautiful valley, the hubbub of the hoopla, not to mention computers that work (see Capt. Tuesday’s Tuesday story of dictation), TV, movies, cell phones and the daily news, in short, all the things we have come to depend on, rely on, and demand. You’d think that I would have gotten tired of being continuously dirty, covered in a thin layer of fine Playa silt; hearing people party all night long to the sound of potty doors slamming shut occasionally; and seeing nothing familiar to me from the Default World, including only fully dressed men and women. Yeah, you’d think that, wouldn’t you? But I wasn’t! In fact, I was very sad at having to return to the world. That was when I started to realize that over the past 5 days, including ‘white-out Monday’, something spiritual had happened to my consciousness. I had lived in an uncompromisingly impossible situation undreamt of by me just six days ago, and had not only survived, but adjusted and adapted. I had staked out my day and nighttime territory like a cat. I had made neighborhood friends, had a favorite bar hangout where if they didn’t know my name, they at least knew my face (and my secret thrill), knew certain landmarks as location bearings, and was finding my way around town pretty swell. I had seen a lot of unique stuff and there were gobs more to see. They knew me at the Post Office by name (“Hey, it’s Mr. Pete, the guy with all the cool swag” – thanks to the product manager at Premiere Innovations for providing me with all the gadgets to field test, like Bond, which passed with flying colors). I had taken an impromptu outdoor shower behind a passing water truck (“Mr. Pete, I’m still trying to scrub that image from my mind” – Capt. Tuesday). Heck, I had even grown bold enough to start taking a ‘bowl’ outside the tent in the camp site, to the chagrin of both the Capt. and Goose. (Nevada is one of the states that allow personal use of the weed that Mother Nature provides). By Friday, we, the city of Black Rock could have been all that was left on an apocalyptic Earth. I was enjoying being a non-violent Mad Max. We existed outside the World’s bubble, where even the Devil’s influence seemed nullified. I really didn’t want to leave.

Now that I’ve been back in the Default World three weeks, I miss Burning Man more than on that Friday that I spoke of. Actually, it’s more a longing akin to a wonderful ‘shipboard romance’. I’ve fallen in love with a Man, a Burning Man. Realistically I know that I have to wait to return until next year, though I hope to take in a regional happening in the desert down in SD. Almost as soon as I got back I could feel the layer of the Default World. The stress over business money, payments to be made, the ever developing banking crisis, Ike and all those people who only have one home, now ruined because they don’t live in the Bush/Cheney/McCain stratosphere, except at election time. The difference between Black Rock City and the rest of the planet is like two plateaus separated by a wide chasm where a bridge exists between them for a round trip once a year, visible only to those who look for it. Crossing this bridge, I learned a few things about myself, and a few things in general, to which, I can only thank the team I was part of, and Coffee Camp, that by the end even caffeine couldn’t resurrect. I have to give a ‘shout-out’ in particular to the ‘Queen’ of this expedition as I close this chapter called my first Burning Man, to IPod herself, the always stimulating, ever perplexing, routinely controversial, never boring, extremely loyal ‘man-rancher’, the rascally Keirah Ann Robbins aka IPod. Though some recent news has done much to prove that I am indeed back in the Default World personally, I still see some ‘epilogue’ magical gifting much as I did with the ‘prologue’ part of getting ready for BM. The beautiful valley that I call ‘Barbie-Land’ and once adored like a ‘Ken’ now I see as a part of the Default World. I still like living here but the allure is gone. The weather still turns my head, but the desert was like a BDSM woman in its harshness one day and perfect weather the next. At first it’s a bit tough, a bit rough, a little different, but then your nature adapts to the pleasure pain syndrome and you start to look forward to taking part in the punishment for the pleasure. Living completely free, enjoying Liberty to the fullest, where common sense and Jesus’ two Commandments are supreme, leads me to feel that I had visited a ‘Promised Land’ that Moses or Dr. King never did. Don’t know about Moses, but I do think that Dr. King might have gotten pleasure from taking part in this unique week. I think he would enjoy seeing grown-ups (though there were children present) of all colors, sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching and cheering as the Man, aka the ‘White’ Man’s power structure aka ‘The Establishment’ and the Devil, being rejected and burned in effigy. I think he could have related to the symbolic relevance of the Old Testament Jewish celebration of the ‘scapegoat’ which also happened once a year. He may have frowned, at least, publically, on some of the more ribald features of Burning Man found in Black Rock City, but I guess we’ll never know the answer to that one. Locally a number of my closest scene friends have all said they want to go next year, including one who seems made for this event. I’m smelling ‘sequel’ here, Sports Fans, but next year is a long ways off and a lot can happen between now and then, but, “Lord willing and the creek don’t rise…” END

THE BURNING MAN EXPERIENCE – LIFE AFTER THE RAPTURE – PT ROTHSCHILD

Epilogue: Two weeks after BM, the first thing that IPod said to me was, “I can’t wait to go back home”, indicating that she too had felt that connection and had made that connection. Two weeks after BM IPod returned to T-Town and to an amazing ‘welcome back’ music show at Murrieta’s Corner Pocket with Tree Fingers, Violent Eden, Nice Day, and the Elm Street Rockers. That same night she charmed the pendant from me that I had held out for ransom, and no, I won’t reveal what that ransom was, but what could I do? If not for her, I wouldn’t have even had the pendant, or experienced ‘life after The Rapture’.

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