Burning Flipside 2008
I have many friends that are very much of the “last minute” frame of mind. Many could not comprehend why tickets for a Memorial Day weekend art festival would come and go within a short window in January. Well, there are many reasons why an event like Burning Flipside has this policy. Most of all is that there are no spectators. In redcamp’s case, it was the camp’s third year. This year, we decided to put together a play and do a Toast show at the effigy. Surprisingly, both events occurred within expectations, and it was only because of months of getting together in preparation beforehand. These events, only loosely-related to flipside made us grow closer. When it all went down this memorial day weekend, it was the fulfillment of a creative vision to be painted on the blank canvas that is on the flipside.
Since our U-Haul didn’t start at the end of the last flipside, we decided to rent a gargantuan Penske. I was appointed driver. I picked it up on Wednesday night after my day job and began the manual labor phase of the weekend. After loading all of the Toast equipment into the truck first, we drove to Red Tony’s to get in the redcamp furniture and dome, along with various other fixins contributed by the redcamp faithful.
On Thursday when we arrived at 1pm, there was a brief hour and a half queue that was an adventure in its own. It began at the gates of flat creek as we showed our tickets and signed our liability waivers. From there, the slow-moving traffic led us to the lovely greeter station with the big ass stop sign donated from redcamp last year. From this point forward, the titties were abound.
As the weather reached over 100 degrees, the ladies were free to exercise the rights granted only to men outside of the flipside. Over the course of the weekend, I personally greatly enjoyed the beauty that is women’s titties. There were titties of all different variations. You could see all the derivations regarding the different features of a women’s breast. From the skin color to the volume and firmness of the entire breast to the diameter and hue of the red part of the nipple to the length and girth of the tip, the scenery was great. The same could be said for all the penises I saw, though I wasn’t looking as closely.
This year, the weather was much more cooperative than last year. In addition to the heat, it was usually sunny. The creek was a happening scene throughout the day. However, the water depth is created by a dam, not a naturally flowing stream; so, as the weekend wore on and countless flipcitizens hit the creek to beat the heat, flat creek became a hippie stew and my hypochondria kept me away sans the first day where I got to experience the water for the first time.
Eventually on our entry parking journey to redcamp, we passed the topless parking ladies that gave us some extra time to unload the penske. We eventually arrived at redcamp and spent many hours unloading and setting up the dome. The last thing to be unloaded was my Rhodes piano that would serve me well for the weekend. By the end of the day, the penske was parked in an official space designated by redcamp compatriot and 2008 flipside parking lead, Wrinn. Also, the bar was in business and redcamp was hopping. The liquor was flowing like a bunch of people had a bunch of stress to work off and really just wanted to let loose in a comfortable environment like redcamp. By the end of the night, we realized we had to plan to avoid running out of beer by Saturday. This led to the sanctioning of keg tapping to only occur at dusk, which ended the weekend perfectly with just a tiny bit of brew remaining, so nobody was let down, though the camp was lax about bartender duty on the burn night and there were probably people too shy to ask or help themselves. Overall though, shy girl (a dude) definitely was the top bartender and pretty much held the role full time between that and cooking breakfast.
In an event where a gift economy rules, also with it comes a commodity economy. Especially in the underground cultures of mind expansion dating back to as long as man has been on earth, drugs are of limited availability in a world that criminalizes things like weeds and certain strains of mushrooms. While big pharma and the food additive industry invent new chemicals that can be far more dangerous than the simple molecule of LSD invented by a man that lived to be over 100, only the latter is taboo. As such, recreational drugs are hard to find and in great demand. I can say without reservation that there is a portion of people of Pyroplis that like to do drugs. Now, I can also say that these drugs are limited to those that change your state of mind in ways that are not simple pleasures. For example, I’m not aware of any crackheads or meth freaks in pyropolis. In fact, I never saw any cocaine. However, cannabis, mushrooms, lsd, and ecstasy were the norm; though, of course, I don’t think I’d say that a majority of people of Pyropolis took currently-illegal drugs at flipside.
One of the popular somewhat-legal drugs at flipside is nitrous oxide, the same stuff that makes engines go faster and whipped cream. Beyond a huge tank (which I did not see at flipside), a popular means of nitrous consumption is the whippit (aka “easy whip” in the mainstream, as these items are legal for making whipped cream, but illegal to inhale diretly). Lots of folks had the whipped cream containers, only they weren’t putting any cream in it. My personal experience has led me to believe that whippits are very fun and can be very intense and enlightening, though short-lived. However, after you do a couple of them, there is a huge desensitization and so it isn’t really worth it to churn through a whole case, but people do it anyway. A fellow redcamper brought some personals for the trip; and so on Thursday, I partook of a single serving, reminding him of my general rule of moderation and thanking him for my recommended daily dosage. However, on Satuday I discovered the “Boogie Booth” – Where everyone’s a VIP). This blue truck complete with PA, couches, and dancing pole circled pyropolis and took people to various places. On the couches are whipped cream bottles and whippits in case you brought your own heavy cream. Of course, you feel like a VIP and end up indulging at the mass amount of whippit boxes that are strewn about. Man, the boogie booth was awesome. However, by burn nite, the generosity toward the VIPs had taken its toll and the operators of the boogie booth were only left with personals.
The final and most amazing experience regarding whippits was after the burn back at redcamp. I walked into the cone and a couple people were doing whippits. As you know, nitrous is widely regarded as hippie crack, and of course I looked in amazement as about 4 people passed around 3 whipped cream infusers. Eventually, I got into the circle and as it grew and grew, the boxes of whippits just kept appearing and appearing before our very eyes. Another person would join, getting the hippie crack feeling that they might be left out because of the large number of people and the fact that most of the time, whippits are expensive and they go really fast (especially with 4 crackers going around). However, as people came and went, the nitrous kept flowing and naturally, a bond was formed and good times were had as we stretched our minds even further into the flipside. It was one of those human moments, like when you find yourself surrounded by people you’ve only just met and for a moment fell a bit shy about the conversation as if you have nothing to say to anyone in the circle. Though a communal whippetfest and social anxiety are diametrically opposed, they were both common features of this festival.
Eventually, all good things come to an end. Though at redcamp we try hard to be inviting and keep the booze flowing (after all, most people are most comfortable with alcohol as their drug of choice). It’s nice to be able to get a drink outside of redcamp, but though there are free-flowing bars, it’s not always the case and it still feels weird to ask people to drink their booze. It’s the same for the other drugs, like the $20 whippit boxes, the $50 eighths, the $30 fun guys, or the bottle of $400 liquid breath drops. However, one of the tenants of the burner community is giving and if you are fortunate enough to be able to score these things that most of society would have no idea where to get, then you should be willing to share them with others. Try telling that to the guy that only has 2 ½ pills of ecstasy, or the couple down to their last box of whippits, or the guy with enough liquid to refresh the breath of only a couple more people. Drugs are a commodity in every society, but especially in one where people like to take them.
Beyond a little pot that could be smoked relatively paranoia-free in this environment, my other notable drug induced journey was on Friday when I freshened my breath to the tune of six drops of liquid acid. Two other campers were dosed the same amount. We were in neverland trying to come to grips with the situation. The random dirt particles danced with vibrant shifting colors and the panels of the redcamp dome looked like a woman’s body as it blew in the breeze. Conversation was a struggle as the mind wandered. There was indecision as to whether I should be playing music, drinking water, taking a walk through pyropolis, or sitting in the lovely plush redcamp chairs and stare off into the space that surrounds. As the feeling wore off, we got our shit together to do more work and fulfill a 3-hour greeter shift that stretched well beyond the allotted timeframe. It included the likes of Micro welcoming new citizens to their temporary home of Pyropolis with his guitar playing through his battery-operated amplifier and Fucktard Anna with her business attire ensuring that all citizens adhered to the bylaws of the town as she quizzed them. Eventually the others had returned from their breathmint-induced journey into the flipside and became functional to greet. The night ended back at redcamp with more jamming in the dome.
When you are dealing with a crowd that likes to think outside the box of the mainstream world in which we live, such folks are not apt to listen to the man when it comes to recommendations as to what to put into our bodies. While I took my fair share of drugs this past weekend, by far the most fucked up I had been the entire time was Saturday night after the play when I let the organic lemon infused vodka flow after a job well done between Toast and the play. Somehow, we found ourselves in possession of a golf cart. As justice would have it, by the end of the night, the rangers had it back. It probably had something to do with the ???campers that were hanging off the sides of it as we pulled into redcamp. They were notorious for golfcart stealing. Fortunately, I wasn’t driving, though the liquid courage came on and allowed me to climb to the top of the large pyramidal structure in the first sound camp, which is, I guess you can say, living on the edge. At one point that night, Bug asked my traveling buddies what drug I was on. The answer, of course, was vodka.
Though that journey, we did have a destination. We had to take care of some stage items, and then to the sound camps. This year, we borrowed some sound equipment from Sunkist for the effigy stage. With that, we had to trek all the way to the opposite side of the city to the winner’s circle. Due to complaints last year stemming from the subwoofers that came with the pyramid of giza’s trance music, all the supersound camps were moved into the valley and a sound ordinance was introduced. After multiple walking trips on Saturday, we found Sunkist and he came up to help us do a sound check and set up equipment. Somehow, one of the Toast PA speakers had blown (or at least knocked out of position) a cone, so we were one monitor short. Nevertheless, we got it done.
At the heart of Sunkist’s efforts to let us borrow his gear and the fact that tireless daft campers who built the effigy spent lots of time building a stage (including a pvc pavilion cover that ended up collapsing and being removed) so the redcamp play and toast show could go on is a dedication to the vision. It’s all about being bold and visionary and not being afraid to work toward a vision, even if it means a lot of time investment, stress, hard work, and possibly the big letdown. However, I think that most people of Pyropolis would agree that it’s better to have a grand failure than a mediocre success. Of course, you can always go for the grand vision and end up with a mediocre success, which is how I’d describe this year’s burn.
Last year, it was my first burn, and I was totally amazed at the engineering genius of the effigy. Everything burned in an almost perfect way and the effigy collapsed upon itself as planned, ending up in a safe single-dimensional area on the ground so people could go into it freely. This year, it wasn’t even close to perfection. The original plan was to involve flaming wooden balls being shot into the air with a motor. Well, the motor died, so that was scrapped. Secondly was the fact that there were significant winds all weekend. If there’s one thing that increases danger and can stop a burn, it’s wind. As such, there was a lot of water being sprayed on things to prevent the fire from spreading away from the effigy. Consequently, by the time the natural burn had completed, it looked like a helicopter had crashed in the middle of the playa. For several hours, they continued to try to fully burn all the items, tossing various wooden human-hamster-wheel devices and gears into the fire. It definitely did not have the finesse of last year’s burn, but it was still a burn and the symbology still stood. In essence, last year, we had shitty weather for a great burn. This year, the weather was great, unless you’re worried about brush fires.
At the quiet side of the city lied redcamp. Though redcamp is all about solace and welcoming people (we don’t use generators, don’t have a pa system playing music, and we’re very proactive about getting people to stop in), we still love to jam. Thank god Roland invented the battery operated Micro Cube, which allowed the use of electric guitars and the Rhodes piano, which does not require power. Suddenly, we had a vintage piano sitting next to the bar, just like it should be. The sound of it was like heaven and it inspired anyone that played it and anyone that listened to it.
Through the weekend, the jamming at redcamp was one of the many highlights. Not only is redcamp full of talented musicians (including a full working band), many people stopped by to lend their skills on their instrument of choice. From wooden flute to harmonica to xylophone to upright bass to saxophone to many different hand drums and percussion instruments, redcamp was a musical heaven for anyone willing to lend a rhythm. The improvisation was nonstop and songs were invented and forgotten a hundred times. The musical experience and creative output stream was on.
Beyond the constant jams at redcamp, we decided to put on a full production on the playa this year. After investing many a Tuesday evening at my house writing and rehearsing a musical play, it went down as could be expected on Saturday night. After hours of equipment unloading and setup, the evening started surprisingly exactly on time with a brief set of Toast. Smoothly, the dr tiki medecine show arrived.
Welcome to the show
Let us take you away
There’s no need to pay
Travelers from the road
We have no place to go
Dr. Tiki’s combustible medicine show
Let’s get the fire burning, higher, higher, oh…
As planned, we continued to play the portable instruments and do a switch-over to stationary instruments that were on the stage and much louder (as this was to be a full production, right?). So, after about 6 minutes or so, Oblio, playing Dr. Tiki got tired of dancing so he motioned us to cut, so we cut. Suddenly, Bug is freaking out because he did not yet switch over his instrument on time. After brief dialog by the play participants, we’re ready for the first song and Bug is still freaking out. Eventually, he works something out and we jam. Through the course of it, a couple songs were skipped as the play participants continued their dialog as the band looked around bewildered. Beyond those harmless hiccups, the other major issue besides Bug’s technical difficulties was that Macro’s bass guitar battery had died and so it did not function with Juan’s bass rig which was on the stage from the toast show. Juan recommended Macro use his 5-string, but Macro was terrified and at first decided he would not play the show. Therefore, with a gaping hole in the low end, I attempted to play bass for a variety of songs ranging from ones with which I had never played any instrument to a passage that I had wrote for Macro, but he never fully nailed. Eventually, seeing my distress, he decided to relent and continue the show with Juan’s bass.
After Enzo did the best he could to shorten the jam sections of Dr. Tiki’s sideshow band which were stretched to infinity and sung generally out of tune. Nonetheless, the show was a huge success and the vision was fulfilled. Afterward, we’d advertised that there would be a jam session after the play. Of course, at the end of the play, we had about 6 guitarists on the stage. The vision of Toast was contradictory to the vision of everyone else. After a discussion about a setlist that involved the same type of atmosphere we’d do at an Austin show (i.e. play Toast songs, bring up people to jam), the vision of everyone else was “open jam.” A little tension formed after some jamming involving guitarists on stage with their backs to the crowd trying to keep up with us to another guitarist that put his amp on the stage for 10 seconds then left to yet a third guitarist that was chided by the bassist to turn down the volume a little, resulting in his voluntary ejection. I’m pretty sure the alcohol was flowing through the play and into the jam, Toast were clearly either the most sober musicians or the least stage-freightened. Nevertheless, we eventually found our groove as Red Tony picked up a hand drum and a saxophone and it was like old times. At one point, noting the open-jam atmosphere and trying to pick up the girl of the night, Bug insisted that we play some Queen songs over our PA so his lady could do some choreographed fire spinning. As all they had was an ipod with an attachment that gave it speakers which had to be played into a microphone, the sound was obviously pretty substandard. Even though the weakest link was clearly the iPod sound souce, Bug apologized profusely for the poor sound of the pa system.
My musical experience continued on Sunday as I went to lick and suck with my saxophone and fellow redcampers playing a djembe and a guitar. We played a jam from the play called the “setting up camp” song and received an ovation from the crowd and a bunch of meat from lick and suck for our performance. As always, it was great brisket. Afterward, my musical experience came to an end that night with the final Toast jam at redcamp with the other randoms there that night. It was bittersweet.
Sunday morning started late after a vodka-infused hangover. However, by 12:30 Toast was doing a set on the playa. We wrapped up and broke down our stuff on the effigy that would no longer be around 12 hours later. After yet another amid a long stream of moving equipment, we were packed up and ready to return the penske to it’s official parking space, for, it had been sitting on the playa since Friday night when we thought we might be able to do a show around midnight. Fortunately, we didn’t get towed (though Bug, Juan, and Abe almost did as they parked illegally).
As I drove the biggest diesel I’d ever driven through the winding backroads of Pyropolis to the sanctioned parking spot, I rounded a corner and ended up just inches from a grey Volkswagen. Misjudging the best course of action, suddenly, the penske was in contact with the vehicle (bad call). I finally figured it out, just in time for a woman to come by and see my mischief and the pair of small scratches of the Volkswagen. I managed to get the penske all the way out to the main road, ditching James behind to explain my poor driving. Later that day, Hops, redcamp brewer extraordinaire, came back to tell me he heard about a penske scratching a car. Of course, I had to write a letter and leave it. Time will tell what that car’s owners’ principles are regarding the world of appearances of their cars outside of flipside. Unfortunately for me, when I rented the penske, they sold me the damage waiver for their truck only, but not liability for other cars. So, of course, it would be on me should the owners desire. All in all though, it happened, and whatever happens happens for a reason. Juan Café summed it up best when he came up with his description of the meaning of life on his breathmint-induced journey as it was first explained by James just two nights before… “Don’t fuck other people.”
Since our U-Haul didn’t start at the end of the last flipside, we decided to rent a gargantuan Penske. I was appointed driver. I picked it up on Wednesday night after my day job and began the manual labor phase of the weekend. After loading all of the Toast equipment into the truck first, we drove to Red Tony’s to get in the redcamp furniture and dome, along with various other fixins contributed by the redcamp faithful.
On Thursday when we arrived at 1pm, there was a brief hour and a half queue that was an adventure in its own. It began at the gates of flat creek as we showed our tickets and signed our liability waivers. From there, the slow-moving traffic led us to the lovely greeter station with the big ass stop sign donated from redcamp last year. From this point forward, the titties were abound.
As the weather reached over 100 degrees, the ladies were free to exercise the rights granted only to men outside of the flipside. Over the course of the weekend, I personally greatly enjoyed the beauty that is women’s titties. There were titties of all different variations. You could see all the derivations regarding the different features of a women’s breast. From the skin color to the volume and firmness of the entire breast to the diameter and hue of the red part of the nipple to the length and girth of the tip, the scenery was great. The same could be said for all the penises I saw, though I wasn’t looking as closely.
This year, the weather was much more cooperative than last year. In addition to the heat, it was usually sunny. The creek was a happening scene throughout the day. However, the water depth is created by a dam, not a naturally flowing stream; so, as the weekend wore on and countless flipcitizens hit the creek to beat the heat, flat creek became a hippie stew and my hypochondria kept me away sans the first day where I got to experience the water for the first time.
Eventually on our entry parking journey to redcamp, we passed the topless parking ladies that gave us some extra time to unload the penske. We eventually arrived at redcamp and spent many hours unloading and setting up the dome. The last thing to be unloaded was my Rhodes piano that would serve me well for the weekend. By the end of the day, the penske was parked in an official space designated by redcamp compatriot and 2008 flipside parking lead, Wrinn. Also, the bar was in business and redcamp was hopping. The liquor was flowing like a bunch of people had a bunch of stress to work off and really just wanted to let loose in a comfortable environment like redcamp. By the end of the night, we realized we had to plan to avoid running out of beer by Saturday. This led to the sanctioning of keg tapping to only occur at dusk, which ended the weekend perfectly with just a tiny bit of brew remaining, so nobody was let down, though the camp was lax about bartender duty on the burn night and there were probably people too shy to ask or help themselves. Overall though, shy girl (a dude) definitely was the top bartender and pretty much held the role full time between that and cooking breakfast.
In an event where a gift economy rules, also with it comes a commodity economy. Especially in the underground cultures of mind expansion dating back to as long as man has been on earth, drugs are of limited availability in a world that criminalizes things like weeds and certain strains of mushrooms. While big pharma and the food additive industry invent new chemicals that can be far more dangerous than the simple molecule of LSD invented by a man that lived to be over 100, only the latter is taboo. As such, recreational drugs are hard to find and in great demand. I can say without reservation that there is a portion of people of Pyroplis that like to do drugs. Now, I can also say that these drugs are limited to those that change your state of mind in ways that are not simple pleasures. For example, I’m not aware of any crackheads or meth freaks in pyropolis. In fact, I never saw any cocaine. However, cannabis, mushrooms, lsd, and ecstasy were the norm; though, of course, I don’t think I’d say that a majority of people of Pyropolis took currently-illegal drugs at flipside.
One of the popular somewhat-legal drugs at flipside is nitrous oxide, the same stuff that makes engines go faster and whipped cream. Beyond a huge tank (which I did not see at flipside), a popular means of nitrous consumption is the whippit (aka “easy whip” in the mainstream, as these items are legal for making whipped cream, but illegal to inhale diretly). Lots of folks had the whipped cream containers, only they weren’t putting any cream in it. My personal experience has led me to believe that whippits are very fun and can be very intense and enlightening, though short-lived. However, after you do a couple of them, there is a huge desensitization and so it isn’t really worth it to churn through a whole case, but people do it anyway. A fellow redcamper brought some personals for the trip; and so on Thursday, I partook of a single serving, reminding him of my general rule of moderation and thanking him for my recommended daily dosage. However, on Satuday I discovered the “Boogie Booth” – Where everyone’s a VIP). This blue truck complete with PA, couches, and dancing pole circled pyropolis and took people to various places. On the couches are whipped cream bottles and whippits in case you brought your own heavy cream. Of course, you feel like a VIP and end up indulging at the mass amount of whippit boxes that are strewn about. Man, the boogie booth was awesome. However, by burn nite, the generosity toward the VIPs had taken its toll and the operators of the boogie booth were only left with personals.
The final and most amazing experience regarding whippits was after the burn back at redcamp. I walked into the cone and a couple people were doing whippits. As you know, nitrous is widely regarded as hippie crack, and of course I looked in amazement as about 4 people passed around 3 whipped cream infusers. Eventually, I got into the circle and as it grew and grew, the boxes of whippits just kept appearing and appearing before our very eyes. Another person would join, getting the hippie crack feeling that they might be left out because of the large number of people and the fact that most of the time, whippits are expensive and they go really fast (especially with 4 crackers going around). However, as people came and went, the nitrous kept flowing and naturally, a bond was formed and good times were had as we stretched our minds even further into the flipside. It was one of those human moments, like when you find yourself surrounded by people you’ve only just met and for a moment fell a bit shy about the conversation as if you have nothing to say to anyone in the circle. Though a communal whippetfest and social anxiety are diametrically opposed, they were both common features of this festival.
Eventually, all good things come to an end. Though at redcamp we try hard to be inviting and keep the booze flowing (after all, most people are most comfortable with alcohol as their drug of choice). It’s nice to be able to get a drink outside of redcamp, but though there are free-flowing bars, it’s not always the case and it still feels weird to ask people to drink their booze. It’s the same for the other drugs, like the $20 whippit boxes, the $50 eighths, the $30 fun guys, or the bottle of $400 liquid breath drops. However, one of the tenants of the burner community is giving and if you are fortunate enough to be able to score these things that most of society would have no idea where to get, then you should be willing to share them with others. Try telling that to the guy that only has 2 ½ pills of ecstasy, or the couple down to their last box of whippits, or the guy with enough liquid to refresh the breath of only a couple more people. Drugs are a commodity in every society, but especially in one where people like to take them.
Beyond a little pot that could be smoked relatively paranoia-free in this environment, my other notable drug induced journey was on Friday when I freshened my breath to the tune of six drops of liquid acid. Two other campers were dosed the same amount. We were in neverland trying to come to grips with the situation. The random dirt particles danced with vibrant shifting colors and the panels of the redcamp dome looked like a woman’s body as it blew in the breeze. Conversation was a struggle as the mind wandered. There was indecision as to whether I should be playing music, drinking water, taking a walk through pyropolis, or sitting in the lovely plush redcamp chairs and stare off into the space that surrounds. As the feeling wore off, we got our shit together to do more work and fulfill a 3-hour greeter shift that stretched well beyond the allotted timeframe. It included the likes of Micro welcoming new citizens to their temporary home of Pyropolis with his guitar playing through his battery-operated amplifier and Fucktard Anna with her business attire ensuring that all citizens adhered to the bylaws of the town as she quizzed them. Eventually the others had returned from their breathmint-induced journey into the flipside and became functional to greet. The night ended back at redcamp with more jamming in the dome.
When you are dealing with a crowd that likes to think outside the box of the mainstream world in which we live, such folks are not apt to listen to the man when it comes to recommendations as to what to put into our bodies. While I took my fair share of drugs this past weekend, by far the most fucked up I had been the entire time was Saturday night after the play when I let the organic lemon infused vodka flow after a job well done between Toast and the play. Somehow, we found ourselves in possession of a golf cart. As justice would have it, by the end of the night, the rangers had it back. It probably had something to do with the ???campers that were hanging off the sides of it as we pulled into redcamp. They were notorious for golfcart stealing. Fortunately, I wasn’t driving, though the liquid courage came on and allowed me to climb to the top of the large pyramidal structure in the first sound camp, which is, I guess you can say, living on the edge. At one point that night, Bug asked my traveling buddies what drug I was on. The answer, of course, was vodka.
Though that journey, we did have a destination. We had to take care of some stage items, and then to the sound camps. This year, we borrowed some sound equipment from Sunkist for the effigy stage. With that, we had to trek all the way to the opposite side of the city to the winner’s circle. Due to complaints last year stemming from the subwoofers that came with the pyramid of giza’s trance music, all the supersound camps were moved into the valley and a sound ordinance was introduced. After multiple walking trips on Saturday, we found Sunkist and he came up to help us do a sound check and set up equipment. Somehow, one of the Toast PA speakers had blown (or at least knocked out of position) a cone, so we were one monitor short. Nevertheless, we got it done.
At the heart of Sunkist’s efforts to let us borrow his gear and the fact that tireless daft campers who built the effigy spent lots of time building a stage (including a pvc pavilion cover that ended up collapsing and being removed) so the redcamp play and toast show could go on is a dedication to the vision. It’s all about being bold and visionary and not being afraid to work toward a vision, even if it means a lot of time investment, stress, hard work, and possibly the big letdown. However, I think that most people of Pyropolis would agree that it’s better to have a grand failure than a mediocre success. Of course, you can always go for the grand vision and end up with a mediocre success, which is how I’d describe this year’s burn.
Last year, it was my first burn, and I was totally amazed at the engineering genius of the effigy. Everything burned in an almost perfect way and the effigy collapsed upon itself as planned, ending up in a safe single-dimensional area on the ground so people could go into it freely. This year, it wasn’t even close to perfection. The original plan was to involve flaming wooden balls being shot into the air with a motor. Well, the motor died, so that was scrapped. Secondly was the fact that there were significant winds all weekend. If there’s one thing that increases danger and can stop a burn, it’s wind. As such, there was a lot of water being sprayed on things to prevent the fire from spreading away from the effigy. Consequently, by the time the natural burn had completed, it looked like a helicopter had crashed in the middle of the playa. For several hours, they continued to try to fully burn all the items, tossing various wooden human-hamster-wheel devices and gears into the fire. It definitely did not have the finesse of last year’s burn, but it was still a burn and the symbology still stood. In essence, last year, we had shitty weather for a great burn. This year, the weather was great, unless you’re worried about brush fires.
At the quiet side of the city lied redcamp. Though redcamp is all about solace and welcoming people (we don’t use generators, don’t have a pa system playing music, and we’re very proactive about getting people to stop in), we still love to jam. Thank god Roland invented the battery operated Micro Cube, which allowed the use of electric guitars and the Rhodes piano, which does not require power. Suddenly, we had a vintage piano sitting next to the bar, just like it should be. The sound of it was like heaven and it inspired anyone that played it and anyone that listened to it.
Through the weekend, the jamming at redcamp was one of the many highlights. Not only is redcamp full of talented musicians (including a full working band), many people stopped by to lend their skills on their instrument of choice. From wooden flute to harmonica to xylophone to upright bass to saxophone to many different hand drums and percussion instruments, redcamp was a musical heaven for anyone willing to lend a rhythm. The improvisation was nonstop and songs were invented and forgotten a hundred times. The musical experience and creative output stream was on.
Beyond the constant jams at redcamp, we decided to put on a full production on the playa this year. After investing many a Tuesday evening at my house writing and rehearsing a musical play, it went down as could be expected on Saturday night. After hours of equipment unloading and setup, the evening started surprisingly exactly on time with a brief set of Toast. Smoothly, the dr tiki medecine show arrived.
Welcome to the show
Let us take you away
There’s no need to pay
Travelers from the road
We have no place to go
Dr. Tiki’s combustible medicine show
Let’s get the fire burning, higher, higher, oh…
As planned, we continued to play the portable instruments and do a switch-over to stationary instruments that were on the stage and much louder (as this was to be a full production, right?). So, after about 6 minutes or so, Oblio, playing Dr. Tiki got tired of dancing so he motioned us to cut, so we cut. Suddenly, Bug is freaking out because he did not yet switch over his instrument on time. After brief dialog by the play participants, we’re ready for the first song and Bug is still freaking out. Eventually, he works something out and we jam. Through the course of it, a couple songs were skipped as the play participants continued their dialog as the band looked around bewildered. Beyond those harmless hiccups, the other major issue besides Bug’s technical difficulties was that Macro’s bass guitar battery had died and so it did not function with Juan’s bass rig which was on the stage from the toast show. Juan recommended Macro use his 5-string, but Macro was terrified and at first decided he would not play the show. Therefore, with a gaping hole in the low end, I attempted to play bass for a variety of songs ranging from ones with which I had never played any instrument to a passage that I had wrote for Macro, but he never fully nailed. Eventually, seeing my distress, he decided to relent and continue the show with Juan’s bass.
After Enzo did the best he could to shorten the jam sections of Dr. Tiki’s sideshow band which were stretched to infinity and sung generally out of tune. Nonetheless, the show was a huge success and the vision was fulfilled. Afterward, we’d advertised that there would be a jam session after the play. Of course, at the end of the play, we had about 6 guitarists on the stage. The vision of Toast was contradictory to the vision of everyone else. After a discussion about a setlist that involved the same type of atmosphere we’d do at an Austin show (i.e. play Toast songs, bring up people to jam), the vision of everyone else was “open jam.” A little tension formed after some jamming involving guitarists on stage with their backs to the crowd trying to keep up with us to another guitarist that put his amp on the stage for 10 seconds then left to yet a third guitarist that was chided by the bassist to turn down the volume a little, resulting in his voluntary ejection. I’m pretty sure the alcohol was flowing through the play and into the jam, Toast were clearly either the most sober musicians or the least stage-freightened. Nevertheless, we eventually found our groove as Red Tony picked up a hand drum and a saxophone and it was like old times. At one point, noting the open-jam atmosphere and trying to pick up the girl of the night, Bug insisted that we play some Queen songs over our PA so his lady could do some choreographed fire spinning. As all they had was an ipod with an attachment that gave it speakers which had to be played into a microphone, the sound was obviously pretty substandard. Even though the weakest link was clearly the iPod sound souce, Bug apologized profusely for the poor sound of the pa system.
My musical experience continued on Sunday as I went to lick and suck with my saxophone and fellow redcampers playing a djembe and a guitar. We played a jam from the play called the “setting up camp” song and received an ovation from the crowd and a bunch of meat from lick and suck for our performance. As always, it was great brisket. Afterward, my musical experience came to an end that night with the final Toast jam at redcamp with the other randoms there that night. It was bittersweet.
Sunday morning started late after a vodka-infused hangover. However, by 12:30 Toast was doing a set on the playa. We wrapped up and broke down our stuff on the effigy that would no longer be around 12 hours later. After yet another amid a long stream of moving equipment, we were packed up and ready to return the penske to it’s official parking space, for, it had been sitting on the playa since Friday night when we thought we might be able to do a show around midnight. Fortunately, we didn’t get towed (though Bug, Juan, and Abe almost did as they parked illegally).
As I drove the biggest diesel I’d ever driven through the winding backroads of Pyropolis to the sanctioned parking spot, I rounded a corner and ended up just inches from a grey Volkswagen. Misjudging the best course of action, suddenly, the penske was in contact with the vehicle (bad call). I finally figured it out, just in time for a woman to come by and see my mischief and the pair of small scratches of the Volkswagen. I managed to get the penske all the way out to the main road, ditching James behind to explain my poor driving. Later that day, Hops, redcamp brewer extraordinaire, came back to tell me he heard about a penske scratching a car. Of course, I had to write a letter and leave it. Time will tell what that car’s owners’ principles are regarding the world of appearances of their cars outside of flipside. Unfortunately for me, when I rented the penske, they sold me the damage waiver for their truck only, but not liability for other cars. So, of course, it would be on me should the owners desire. All in all though, it happened, and whatever happens happens for a reason. Juan Café summed it up best when he came up with his description of the meaning of life on his breathmint-induced journey as it was first explained by James just two nights before… “Don’t fuck other people.”
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