Burning Man invites nature indoors as RV morphs to U-Haul
13-09-15 08:22 Melika,Family Humor
Last week’s letter focused on our Disneyland excursion with the grand(est)son. He — and we — had a wonderful time full of fun and excitement. Our excitement, however, was destined to pale in comparison to Melika and Tom’s excursion to Burning Man. Naturally, Nazy was excited.
“Burning Man? What’s that?”
“It’s a counterculture thing, Mom,” Mitra explained. “People go to the dessert and commune with Art. It doesn’t sound like Melika’s thing.”
“Commune with art?” Nazy asked.
“Right.” I replied. “They set up a city in the middle of nowhere.”
“A city?”
“About 60,000 people congregate in a dessert in Nevada. They build the city and dismantle the whole thing after a week. They burn a giant statue. Then they leave no trace.”
“There is lots of art work,” Mitra interjected. “No money! Everyone uses barter and sharing.”
“They don’t even sell tee-shirts!” I interjected. “It’s not at all capitalistic.”
“It’s living off the land,” Mitra continued. “Tents and meditation.”
“I don’t think that’s what Melika has in mind,” Nazy said.
In fact, Melika and Tom were not planning to live off the land. They booked a first-class excursion in an elegant RV — complete with showers, jacuzzi, a refrigerator larger than our kitchen in Switzerland, air conditioning, heating, a dance floor, a balcony, conservatory, gourmet kitchen, king size bed and a sound system so powerful that operating it at full volume was illegal in California. (Because the sonic vibrations would jostle the San Andreas Fault.)
The instructions were clear - but the RV was not fixable. And, because it was a holiday weekend, there wasn’t an RV to be had anywhere between Vancouver and San Diego. Showing initiative, Matt rented a U-Haul. He transferred the food and supplies, stopped at Walmart for an inflatable mattress and forged on to the Black Rock Dessert home of Burning Man.
The U-Haul didn’t have a kitchen. it didn’t have showers. It didn’t have a toilet. (Melika was relegated to a Port-a-Potty.) It didn’t have heating (It was 40℉ at night) . It didn’t have air conditioning. (It was 100℉ during the day.) It wasn’t hermetically sealed. (The wind-blown dust seeped in and covered everything.) It was..
“… sort of like the original approach of Burning Man,” I later claimed while speaking with Melika.
“Excuse me, Dad?”
“It was like living off the land.”
“I wasn’t living off the land, Dad. The land had been turned to dust by the wind and the ‘land’ was living on me.”
“You got to see and commune with nature.”
“I like nature, Dad. But I like to keep it outdoors. It was too cold to sleep - I wore all my clothes to bed and I was still cold.”
“That’s not hard to believe,” I thought. “That’s because the only clothes you packed were bikini’s.” I said.
While Melika and Tom where freezing at Burning Man, Nazy and I had returned to Santa Barbara after our Disney excursion. When we got home, I drove to their house to feed Monster the cat. But..
“I can’t get the garage door to open,” I explained to Nazy from my iPhone.
“Do you know the combination on the electric door opener?”
“Of course! It’s an even multiple of ‘5’ and the digits add up to ’12’ and the pattern on the keypad moves like a chess knight..”
“Did you push the buttons firmly? One. Button.At. A. Time! Sometimes you have fat fingers.”
While Nazy continued to issue instructions on the best way to deal with the keypad, I drove back to our home to get a key to the front door.
Back at their house, the front door key worked like a charm. But the electricity was neither working nor charming. The cat, miffed because his water fountain was dry and not fountaining, had taken revenge on the house. (Even though it was dark, my olfactory senses could pick up strong scents of ‘distressed cat’.)
The original plan, it turned out, had been for Melika and Tom to move the week before Burning Man. Construction on their new home had been delayed — a fact that had not been internalized by the electricity company. Moreover, the electric company wouldn’t respond to a single-house emergency without the social security number of the (former) customer. And, since Burning Man is a mobile-phone-free area, we couldn’t contact Melika. (Recall that we were not aware of the challenges that they were having at Burning Man.)
“I just hope that the sandstorm doesn’t ground her helicopter departure,” Nazy said.
“Helicopter? I thought she was in an RV.”
“No, no, no, Dan. She said she was coming back by..” (Nazy consulted her text messages.) “… coming back by private jet.”
In fact, the jet went to San Francisco.Tom and Melika’s phones were both dead. (No charging ports in the U-Haul.) They arrived here at night — to a dark house. The cat had somehow escaped, but when he heard them arrive, he returned to complain. (And eat.) They all tried to sleep, but it was impossible to see the baby. Melika arranged for a hotel and got Tom, who was not having trouble sleeping, up and going. They put the baby, the cat and the two of them into the SUV. Tom reached for the overhead light switch and
“… you opened the back gate!” Melika shouted. “Monster will escape.”
With that, Melika jumped from the front seat toward the back of the SUV to grab the cat. Fortunately, the cat had frozen in position because he was frightened by Melika’s scream. Unfortunately, the SUV was parked on a steep driveway and Melika slid out the tailgate and onto the driveway before rolling into the street…
“You may think I’m making this up, Dad.” Melika said the next morning. “But this is what really happened. This was a trip that I want to forget.”
“Mel, this is the kind of trip you’ll always remember. In fact, you’ll look back on it as a hilarious adventure. It will be a permanent feature of your family archives.”
“Maybe in ten years, Dad.”
“We only remember trips when something goes wrong.” I replied. I was thinking about stolen passports in Sicily, being surrounded, because I didn’t have a Visa, by the Red Army in China, sitting next to a man who love to demonstrate his ‘quick release hook’ instead of a hand,…
“Did you ever have a trip that didn’t go wrong, Dad?” Melika asked.
“I can’t remember.” I replied.
“Burning Man? What’s that?”
“It’s a counterculture thing, Mom,” Mitra explained. “People go to the dessert and commune with Art. It doesn’t sound like Melika’s thing.”
“Commune with art?” Nazy asked.
“Right.” I replied. “They set up a city in the middle of nowhere.”
“A city?”
“About 60,000 people congregate in a dessert in Nevada. They build the city and dismantle the whole thing after a week. They burn a giant statue. Then they leave no trace.”
“There is lots of art work,” Mitra interjected. “No money! Everyone uses barter and sharing.”
“They don’t even sell tee-shirts!” I interjected. “It’s not at all capitalistic.”
“It’s living off the land,” Mitra continued. “Tents and meditation.”
“I don’t think that’s what Melika has in mind,” Nazy said.
In fact, Melika and Tom were not planning to live off the land. They booked a first-class excursion in an elegant RV — complete with showers, jacuzzi, a refrigerator larger than our kitchen in Switzerland, air conditioning, heating, a dance floor, a balcony, conservatory, gourmet kitchen, king size bed and a sound system so powerful that operating it at full volume was illegal in California. (Because the sonic vibrations would jostle the San Andreas Fault.)
My vision of their RV transportation
In preparation, Melika and Tom bought food and costumes. Melika got pink and purple hair extensions. They charged the battery for the electric tandem bike. Bags were packed. The RV, insufficiently nimble for the hill where Melika and Tom live, departed from Santa Barbara Street on Tuesday evening.
As scheduled, the RV stopped in Mammoth, about half way for the night. However, the RV did not start the next morning. There was a mechanical problem. Luckily, Melika and Tom could forge ahead with friends who also had an RV. They left Matt, who was driving, with good wishes and instructions to fix the vehicle and join them later.
My thoughts about the RV shifted to the Disneyland parade:
The instructions were clear - but the RV was not fixable. And, because it was a holiday weekend, there wasn’t an RV to be had anywhere between Vancouver and San Diego. Showing initiative, Matt rented a U-Haul. He transferred the food and supplies, stopped at Walmart for an inflatable mattress and forged on to the Black Rock Dessert home of Burning Man.
The U-Haul didn’t have a kitchen. it didn’t have showers. It didn’t have a toilet. (Melika was relegated to a Port-a-Potty.) It didn’t have heating (It was 40℉ at night) . It didn’t have air conditioning. (It was 100℉ during the day.) It wasn’t hermetically sealed. (The wind-blown dust seeped in and covered everything.) It was..
“… sort of like the original approach of Burning Man,” I later claimed while speaking with Melika.
“Excuse me, Dad?”
“It was like living off the land.”
“I wasn’t living off the land, Dad. The land had been turned to dust by the wind and the ‘land’ was living on me.”
“You got to see and commune with nature.”
“I like nature, Dad. But I like to keep it outdoors. It was too cold to sleep - I wore all my clothes to bed and I was still cold.”
“That’s not hard to believe,” I thought. “That’s because the only clothes you packed were bikini’s.” I said.
While Melika and Tom where freezing at Burning Man, Nazy and I had returned to Santa Barbara after our Disney excursion. When we got home, I drove to their house to feed Monster the cat. But..
“I can’t get the garage door to open,” I explained to Nazy from my iPhone.
“Do you know the combination on the electric door opener?”
“Of course! It’s an even multiple of ‘5’ and the digits add up to ’12’ and the pattern on the keypad moves like a chess knight..”
“Did you push the buttons firmly? One. Button.At. A. Time! Sometimes you have fat fingers.”
While Nazy continued to issue instructions on the best way to deal with the keypad, I drove back to our home to get a key to the front door.
Back at their house, the front door key worked like a charm. But the electricity was neither working nor charming. The cat, miffed because his water fountain was dry and not fountaining, had taken revenge on the house. (Even though it was dark, my olfactory senses could pick up strong scents of ‘distressed cat’.)
The original plan, it turned out, had been for Melika and Tom to move the week before Burning Man. Construction on their new home had been delayed — a fact that had not been internalized by the electricity company. Moreover, the electric company wouldn’t respond to a single-house emergency without the social security number of the (former) customer. And, since Burning Man is a mobile-phone-free area, we couldn’t contact Melika. (Recall that we were not aware of the challenges that they were having at Burning Man.)
“I just hope that the sandstorm doesn’t ground her helicopter departure,” Nazy said.
“Helicopter? I thought she was in an RV.”
“No, no, no, Dan. She said she was coming back by..” (Nazy consulted her text messages.) “… coming back by private jet.”
In fact, the jet went to San Francisco.Tom and Melika’s phones were both dead. (No charging ports in the U-Haul.) They arrived here at night — to a dark house. The cat had somehow escaped, but when he heard them arrive, he returned to complain. (And eat.) They all tried to sleep, but it was impossible to see the baby. Melika arranged for a hotel and got Tom, who was not having trouble sleeping, up and going. They put the baby, the cat and the two of them into the SUV. Tom reached for the overhead light switch and
“… you opened the back gate!” Melika shouted. “Monster will escape.”
With that, Melika jumped from the front seat toward the back of the SUV to grab the cat. Fortunately, the cat had frozen in position because he was frightened by Melika’s scream. Unfortunately, the SUV was parked on a steep driveway and Melika slid out the tailgate and onto the driveway before rolling into the street…
“You may think I’m making this up, Dad.” Melika said the next morning. “But this is what really happened. This was a trip that I want to forget.”
“Mel, this is the kind of trip you’ll always remember. In fact, you’ll look back on it as a hilarious adventure. It will be a permanent feature of your family archives.”
“Maybe in ten years, Dad.”
“We only remember trips when something goes wrong.” I replied. I was thinking about stolen passports in Sicily, being surrounded, because I didn’t have a Visa, by the Red Army in China, sitting next to a man who love to demonstrate his ‘quick release hook’ instead of a hand,…
“Did you ever have a trip that didn’t go wrong, Dad?” Melika asked.
“I can’t remember.” I replied.
For last week's letter, click isney lights heavy prowling tiger and happy goat">here
One more Burning Man Photo
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