Burning Man 2007

Third time's a charm they say; I can't argue with that. Now that I've attended Burning Man 3 times the playa seems familiar to me. The taste of alkaline dust, the angle of the sun, the direction of the breeze, the dry, hot air, the cool of the dawn and the freaks that surround me--all strangely familiar; all strangely warm and comforting. It amazes me how so many are quick to judge the event; so quick to put this or that label on it. I alluded to this fact the first time I posted about my Black Rock City experience in 2005. Burning Man is this, Burning Man is that, blah blah blah. Here's what Burning Man is--it's exactly what you make it.




This year I did not purchase tickets early when they are the cheapest due to the fact I did not think we would be attending since we now have a 7 month old daughter at home. I am not opposed to taking a child to the playa, in fact I think it's a great place for a kid of the right age under the right circumstances. However, I am of the opinion that it is no place for a 7 month old. If you're too young to verbalize what is making you uncomfortable, you're too young for the playa. What I did not expect was how bad my wife wanted to attend this year after sitting out last year due to her pregnancy.




As the event drew near, I could see she was serious, so I started to make plans. The first order of business was securing a motorhome. It's perfectly fine to camp on the playa--most people do--but I know enough to know that a comfortable wife means a happy husband; and the only place where comfort is guaranteed on the playa--for happily married people at least--is the inside of their own motorhome. Though I've never been a particular fan of RV living, being new parents, I could see the benefits of owning a motorhome beyond the comfort it would ensure while at Burning Man. As luck would have it, our friends Mark and Shannon who live outside of Sacramento and also have a young daughter decided they were in the market for an RV as well, so we thought it wise to pool our resources and partner in the purchase of one. We certainly did not want to buy a brand new model as they depreciate quicker than an automobile, so we figured a well maintained used RV would be our target. It did not take us long to find what we were looking for, which turned out to be a 1993 31 ft class "A" Bounder. It was a little bigger than what we had idealized, but the price was right and the features and floor plan exceeded our expectations. Burning Man would be "Thumper's" maiden voyage, and I would be the captain.



Labor day weekend being what it is, we already had plans to be in Mexico for a big 40th birthday party, so the time we could be on the playa was limited to a few days at the front end of the week. Fortunately a few members of our camp had planned on arriving even earlier than us, so we pulled into an already constructed camp just before dawn on Monday morning. Sunrise on the playa is by far my favorite time, so we quickly unloaded our bicycles, greeted our camp mates who were in various stages of sleep and headed out to say good morning to the "work week."



One of the more striking differences between the first and last days of Burning Man is the relative tranquility at the beginning. In my mind the playa resembled a meadow just after a fresh snowfall: unsullied and serene. Much of the art remained in various stages of completion, and the prevailing mood of the people I met seemed to be relaxed and rested, sort of like the mood of most cities early in the week.




We decided to call our camp the Garden of Heathens, and it was our best camp to date. Pretty much from the day Burning Man ended last year up to the commencement of this year's event, my friend from high school Steve had been planning for our camp, and he did not disappoint. His contribution included a military surplus desert tent that acted as our living room, a bar and bar stools; he even put a beer tap on the outside of his small RV that was connected to a keg (6 actually!) chilling in the closet inside. Pure genius. Dave, in what has become his custom and trademark, provided the "mini-mog" sound system and hours of full spectrum beats. Banyra, in a demonstration of dream-into-action, built a carnival wheel that morphed into the "Wheel of Miss Fortune" and became the centerpiece of our bar. That wheel took on a life of it's own. Games were created, rules were invented, and a naked barbie was eventually ritualistically nailed to the center. Mrs. Jrod and a random denizen of BlackRock City painted and decorated the bar. Goldie provided the "Garden of Heathens" banner. It's great to see the gang rise to the occasion.





Despite early reports of severe wind and dust storms, the weather while we were there was nothing short of perfect. We were even treated to a full lunar eclipse Monday night that turned the playa from a full moon playground to a dark and mischievous fun house in a matter of minutes.







And mischievous it was. For the first time ever, the Man burned before his time. The most shocking thing about this is that it took this many years to happen. Though we'll never really know exactly how it happened, conventional wisdom holds that a fella by the name of Paul Addis decided to climb the Man just as all eyes were on the lunar eclipse and toss a molotov cocktail at him. Mr. Addis then jumped onto the green canopy underneath and slid down to the ground where he was apprehended by BRC rangers without incident.


At the time, I had been taking a "nap" after an initial 36 hours of being up and at 'em. Mrs. Jrod had just come back to camp to get me up for the eclipse--I definitely did not want to miss that. We were heading back out to the Opulent Temple to meet our friends. When we approached the playa, we heard the tremendous roar of a crowd--similiar to what one might hear at a baseball game. I though, "man, there must be something really good going on out there." As we got closer, we could see that the Burning Man Pavillion was surrounded by art cars and a sea of people. It looked and sounded just like it would on the Night of the Burn. It was then that I spotted what looked like two giant gossamer sheets of silk undulating hypnotically on either side of The Man--but something about the whole scene felt slightly out of place. As we got closer, we could see that several of the blinking lights were real live fire trucks. There may be any number of "fire trucks" on the playa at any given moment which makes it next to impossible to tell what's real and what's not, but clearly these were the real things. What I had mistaken for beautiful pieces of silk flapping in the breeze were actually two powerful streams of water, *gasp*, trained on The Man!


They were hosing down The Man.

The "man" was extinguishing The Man.

Chuck, they were Saving the Man.


The irony of this whole unscheduled event is self-evident, so this is the part where I fight the urge to wax philosophical...


As the full moon passed outside of the earth's shadow and dawn slowly crept over the horizon, the full extent of the damage was brought into plain view. The Man was singed badly, but not mortally wounded. Too bad He wasn't packed with a cocktail of explosives and fireworks yet, that would have been quite a sight to behold! The green canopy underneath was melted in certain places, but it was far from destroyed. All in all, it looked like the Man would survive; though that did not stop the "man" from removing him with a giant crane before the sun was high in the sky. Judging by the reaction of some, taking the Man down was akin to holding a magnet in front of their compass--they were utterly "lost." For me, I was just happy that our planned early departure didn't force me to miss the Burn like I thought it would.



The remaining day and a half we had left to enjoy BlackRock City was spent doing "more" of "the same." Silliness was witnessed, yuks were had, art was interacted, jams were kicked out, bikes were pedaled. I wish we could have stayed a few more days to have some fun with the rest of our campmates as they rolled into town, but we were fortunate to have even gone at all. Afterall, grandma can only take care of the daughter and the doggie for so long. I will say the Exodus on a Wednesday afternoon is incomparably better and more relaxing than it is at the end of the week. As usual, in retrospect it was another surreal experience. So fleeting physically, but the memories remain.



It will be interesting to see how Burning Man shapes up in the future--especially in the wake of Mr. Addis's decision to start the campfire a little early. It's getting really big, and for the first time I am beginning to see the point certain veteran burners have when they bemoan what it's become and pine for the "good ol' days" when it was small and there were no rules. I don't necessarily agree because I think Burning Man is dynamic above all else, but I can see a difference in just three years.




Annoyingly, this year's theme seemed to be politically motivated: "The Greening of the Man." The contradiction is obvious; how do you (or why should you) "green" a festival that celebrates fire?


Here's what a friend of mine had to say about his experience. He is a 6 year veteran who returned this year after a two year hiatus:

i LOVED the art.... some of the best i have ever seen... opulent was off the hook evry night i went .... better than prior years... personally had a really good time... NOT on par with a couple of my other burns, but that is solely because a couple of my closest friends in the world didnt make the trip this yr.... i missed em.... definitely saw some JV shit go on... i picked up cups and beer cans in a number of places which was disappointing... also witnessd one episode where some burningman volunteers were agro and nasty which was disappointing too.... but it still is undoubtedly the greatest show on earth.... this year was just BIGGER

Trash talking and trash tossing: two hallmarks of any city. For better or worse, it sounds like BlackRock City is experiencing growing pains. Unfortunately, when a community gets dissolved into the anonymity that a city affords, people often act like the twat-waffles they really are.



I'll reiterate what I said at the beginning of this post: Burning Man is exactly what you make it. The excitement and anticipation many people feel when talking about, planning and participating in it is genuine--and that cannot be discounted.

Nevertheless, I can't shake the feeling that the Man has become "the man."