Methods for confusing your cat and other feats of nonsensical amusement………
So it is now officially Tuesday, the day after Monday and the day after the day after my Birthday. So far the slow easy drift down from the thrill of Burning Man has been more of a screaming plummet hoping that my cushion really is a floatation device.
I have to admit that I enjoy BM for a lot more than the wanton exposure of flesh. There are lots of things to admire, cool artwork….which is usually on fire or set on fire at some point, cool camp mates with a magnificent camp…..which through liberal use of kerosene was almost set on fire, really attractive young ladies dancing to loud hypnotic drum beats while whirling all manner of flaming devices around their person, huge sculptures in the desert which breathe or spit great gouts of fire, a wonderful temple built to help you gain some release from the trials that burden you….it is of course set on fire at the end of the week. Pretty much if it is not actively metabolizing it is or can be immolated at some point during the week. What is not to like? More things are flaming here than a Gay Pride march through San Francisco.
It is the decompression that is difficult. I think everybody in the camp of Levitating Plywood got a lot out of BM and consequently left some part of themselves back there in the Playa. When you get back to the real world it takes a little bit of time to adjust to normal society again. Imagine one week with no cell phone, no email, no job, no money, no news, and never a deadline. It is a shock to come back to an arena where these are all huge parts of the game. I have no idea how people can do hallucinogenic drugs and come down off those as well as the 30mph crash of reality. I wanted to take a few days to slowly acclimatize myself back into what I consider a normal existence.
“The Captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt signs as we are experiencing a little turbulence.”
I turned my cell phone on at the airport in Reno and discovered 3 messages from the girls soccer team I coach to try to verify practice times and fields. 3 more messages from work asking if I could cover some shifts because they are short staffed this week. I arrived home to a note from my land lord to inform me that my rent is being raised as of next month.
“Due to a sudden loss in cabin pressure the oxygen masks have been dropped in front of you. The bag will not inflate fully as you breathe, but feel free to scream normally and attempt to pull the armrest from its normal non-upright position.”
My car had a slight flat front tire on the driver side. The wine degree class I signed up for all day on Tuesdays had been switched to all day on Sundays instead. Therefore negating the schedule request I had carefully placed two weeks previous.
“We have indeed lost cabin pressure and also our futile battle with gravity. The Captain will be attempting a water landing.” Excellent 647mph into the ocean in a flimsy aluminium, thin steel, and fiberglass craft made for atmospheric flight. Where is Captain bloody Nemo when you need him?
My mother also left an email to confirm her arrival in 6 days. I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but a visit from a parent involves cleaning, planning, time off work, and financial outlay. BUGGER!!!!!!!!!
“The Captain has advised that the undercarriage is not functioning properly.” Who gives a shit? We are going to hit the water at nigh on the speed of sound; wheels at this point are completely beside the point. Unless that fat bastard the Michelin Man himself is underneath treading water to keep the small mangled pieces of wreckage afloat I could not care less.
Cleaning an apartment that has never really seen the backside of a paper napkin, let alone the front side of a scrubbing brush requires tact, patience, lemon scented bleach, and 3 (Yes count them!!!!!) 3 bottles of wine. My poor cat, who at this point was recovering from being ditched with an almost stranger for 10 days, sat in the corner trying to figure out what the citrus smelling drunk was doing with a green scrubbie, a bucket of water, and 4 rolls of paper towels.
“The Captain would like to apologize for not staying in a Holiday Inn last night. He would also like to hold an open confessional in the cockpit. It’s been great flying with you. Thank you for choosing to fly the friendly skies and careen haphazardly into the inhospitable murky depths.”
So, after working 38 hours in the past 3 and a bit days, my mother is asleep in the next room, I am adrift clinging onto my seat cushion, and my cat (who is as useful as a paper weight and twice as inert) is asleep on the sofa.
Of course the email I opened tonight had yet another change to the wine class. I didn’t read it…..I will deal with the sharks nipping at my legs tomorrow.
I have to admit that I enjoy BM for a lot more than the wanton exposure of flesh. There are lots of things to admire, cool artwork….which is usually on fire or set on fire at some point, cool camp mates with a magnificent camp…..which through liberal use of kerosene was almost set on fire, really attractive young ladies dancing to loud hypnotic drum beats while whirling all manner of flaming devices around their person, huge sculptures in the desert which breathe or spit great gouts of fire, a wonderful temple built to help you gain some release from the trials that burden you….it is of course set on fire at the end of the week. Pretty much if it is not actively metabolizing it is or can be immolated at some point during the week. What is not to like? More things are flaming here than a Gay Pride march through San Francisco.
It is the decompression that is difficult. I think everybody in the camp of Levitating Plywood got a lot out of BM and consequently left some part of themselves back there in the Playa. When you get back to the real world it takes a little bit of time to adjust to normal society again. Imagine one week with no cell phone, no email, no job, no money, no news, and never a deadline. It is a shock to come back to an arena where these are all huge parts of the game. I have no idea how people can do hallucinogenic drugs and come down off those as well as the 30mph crash of reality. I wanted to take a few days to slowly acclimatize myself back into what I consider a normal existence.
“The Captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt signs as we are experiencing a little turbulence.”
I turned my cell phone on at the airport in Reno and discovered 3 messages from the girls soccer team I coach to try to verify practice times and fields. 3 more messages from work asking if I could cover some shifts because they are short staffed this week. I arrived home to a note from my land lord to inform me that my rent is being raised as of next month.
“Due to a sudden loss in cabin pressure the oxygen masks have been dropped in front of you. The bag will not inflate fully as you breathe, but feel free to scream normally and attempt to pull the armrest from its normal non-upright position.”
My car had a slight flat front tire on the driver side. The wine degree class I signed up for all day on Tuesdays had been switched to all day on Sundays instead. Therefore negating the schedule request I had carefully placed two weeks previous.
“We have indeed lost cabin pressure and also our futile battle with gravity. The Captain will be attempting a water landing.” Excellent 647mph into the ocean in a flimsy aluminium, thin steel, and fiberglass craft made for atmospheric flight. Where is Captain bloody Nemo when you need him?
My mother also left an email to confirm her arrival in 6 days. I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but a visit from a parent involves cleaning, planning, time off work, and financial outlay. BUGGER!!!!!!!!!
“The Captain has advised that the undercarriage is not functioning properly.” Who gives a shit? We are going to hit the water at nigh on the speed of sound; wheels at this point are completely beside the point. Unless that fat bastard the Michelin Man himself is underneath treading water to keep the small mangled pieces of wreckage afloat I could not care less.
Cleaning an apartment that has never really seen the backside of a paper napkin, let alone the front side of a scrubbing brush requires tact, patience, lemon scented bleach, and 3 (Yes count them!!!!!) 3 bottles of wine. My poor cat, who at this point was recovering from being ditched with an almost stranger for 10 days, sat in the corner trying to figure out what the citrus smelling drunk was doing with a green scrubbie, a bucket of water, and 4 rolls of paper towels.
“The Captain would like to apologize for not staying in a Holiday Inn last night. He would also like to hold an open confessional in the cockpit. It’s been great flying with you. Thank you for choosing to fly the friendly skies and careen haphazardly into the inhospitable murky depths.”
So, after working 38 hours in the past 3 and a bit days, my mother is asleep in the next room, I am adrift clinging onto my seat cushion, and my cat (who is as useful as a paper weight and twice as inert) is asleep on the sofa.
Of course the email I opened tonight had yet another change to the wine class. I didn’t read it…..I will deal with the sharks nipping at my legs tomorrow.