The Old Days

[rico thunder]

Someone asked what it was like in the old days. Well, here's from a guy who came late to Burning Man. I only heard about it in '92, but didn't make it until '93. There were already guys then who were no longer going because it was so much better years earlier, before any people showed up for it. But considering Larry Harvey didn't even *come* to Burning Man until '94, I guess I can share my somewhat hazy recollections.

There were no roads, and no BMorg, and you were encouraged to run over people's tents "just for fun." Everyone had to drive everywhere, even to check the mail across the street. At the time, see, we were sure petrol was getting scarce and that soon we'd all be living a mad-max lifestyle. Now we know better. Gasoline is plentiful if we can just get our oil out from underneath the people who are living on top of it.

Everyone had to carry a gun (.22's didn't count) unless they were Quakers. However, contrary to popular misconceptions, there were strict restrictions on firearms. For instance, you could only shoot at cute stuffed animals and propane cylinders larger than 1 pound green logs. Or straight up into the air Taliban-style, if you were drunk. There were cops at Burning Man, but they were off-duty and were completely fucked up on tequila and acid.

Theme camps were forbidden and everyone just had tattered blue tarps bungied to their cars. A couch or a comfy arm chair bordered on theme camp, and you were simultaneously envied and reviled for your lack of toughness. Real badasses just reclined in the dirt.No one ever staked down their tent, but you could pick them up in Gerlach at the end of the event.

There was no noun "burner." Though the term might have been used to describe someone who free-based or did shot smack at burning man. It wasn't an "event," and no one in their right mind would have called it a "festival." Some folks might have said they were going to "the burn," but people thought they were retarded or from Hollywood.

Since you couldn't say "burner," "the burn," "event," or "festival," when you came back from Burning Man, you talked about how you went to Burning Man to everyone you knew and the wild things you saw at Burning Man and the wild people you met at Burning Man and the drugs you took at Burning Man and the things you saw blowing up at Burning Man. Your friends were sick to fucking death of hearing about Burning Man. And then they went the next year.

Art cars? There was only Herod Blank's wacked-out yellow rasta volkswagon and a bunch of fucked up beaters. There was no DPW. *We* were the DPW, but we didn't have to bolster our self-important egos by giving ourselves a TLA (three letter acronym).

Flash used to run Burning Man. Larry who? Did *Larry* ever get shot in the gut in a bar fight over a girl in Gerlach? Flash would change the rules from day to day. One day would be Backward Tuesday, and the next would be Drunk Wednesday followed by Hamburger Thursday. Burning Man was just as authoritarian as it is now, but more arbitrary and whimsical.

The event, I mean the burn, uh, Burning Man used to be longer. The hardcore badasses would come up in April when the mud was still knee deep. But most of us came only for a long weekend. But we lived a lifetime in those four days.

Back then, our friends would have kicked our asses if we'd said something like, "I'm not sure I can get time off. You know, with my new job and everything." Days later we would have woken up on the playa with gaps in our memory, a headache, and a dusty tongue. Every year our bosses would pull some shit like, "Hmm, time off? During our crunch time?" The polite response was, "Yeah, mother fucker, two fucking weeks. Ya deef? See ya in September."

There was no hot food except for McSatan's. Once we ran out of money for burgers, we ate nothing but dry top ramen, candy bars, and gatorade. We drank plenty though. If you aren't pissing a rich amber, you aren't drinking enough Jack.

There was no cafe and none of us thought to bring coffee. So when we woke up bright and early with the evil fireball in the sky scorching our eyelids, we'd wander around camp willing to perform oral sex on the first person who could make our coffee headaches go away with a cup of joe.

Nobody ever asked a dumb question like, "Is that safe?" Is it safe? For fuck's sake, I wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't safe. I saw a guy in a movie use a fuse like this to take out a tank. I know what I'm do-- KAFUCKINGBOOM!

Rico Thunder
Premier Purveyor of Mystery and Mischief since 1966
Costco Soulmate Trading Outlet

[Ugly Dougly]

You remember? Looking at the chaos and wondering if you're going to live through it.

[cornelius]

*bows to Rico Thunder*

Very fucking funny! Very good sir! I think you've put all the "we burned before you so THERE pptttthhhhhh!" rants into one giant rant. Very cool.

[skygod]

Two thoughts:
- I wish I had been there then but I'd prolly be dead now.
- Someday this year's burn will be "The Old Days"

[chiefdanfox]

I love that. Bifurcated time.

-Someday this year's burn will be "The Old Days"

"Remember when we could just pull in, pitch a tent, and not have assigned seating?" "When does the thingy burn?"

---

"This year at BM XXIX, on day three, mayhem broke out, and summary executions were carried out at 4:30 and Xena, 11:00 and Ronald Reagan.

There were no less than three Bataan Death Marches, one from Gerlach to Center Camp, and the other, at twice the distance, straight down 6:30 from the county line, and one in progress, at 1:00. It is an old chestnut, but a favorite.

So far 70 people have been killed, a new record, just inching out last year's total at day three, of 69. This year is on pace to beat last year's 1042 killed. Camp Aunt-Arctica has run out of room for the dead, so any new casualties will be dispatched at the burn platforms. ID wafers can be retrieved at the post office.

The favorite attractions this year are the DU flechette rail gun, the live-human trebuchet, and Camp Boy-whore. It seems to have a "French" flavor this year. The crow bar fight has been rescheduled for Friday morning, 1 AM, at the intersection of 7:00 and Fate. Smoke 'em if you got 'em."

-Someday this year's burn will be "The Old Days"

[ubu]

Ha, Flash gets the long drawn out burner award fer sure cause I don't see no doggy diner no more, except on the back of my eyelids. I'll have a burger with that kerosene, please.

I dug his answer to Duchamp this year.

I remember the really freaking wierd fire farmers putting their leaf blowers up against hay bale fires.

To hell with the old daze. Bring on the new. Let's move this party off of BLM land. I'll show you a real party, friend.

namaste, mofo. burn in hellco.