Fear of Commitment

Mayor Don balks

When the Burning Man ticket fiasco was in full swing, word came down that theme camps would be allocated some of the remainder so as to better ensure their inspiring presence. Ours looked to be in the running for six or so and we thought about discarding last year's decision not to go. The problem was that if our camp had a presence, the mantle of authority would fall not upon the Captain but upon last year's Mayor. Mayor Maynot Don Ricardo "Hip Liz" Penrose et cetera et cetera considered that for several seconds before deciding that destroying his Burn with an unachievable level of responsibility just so half a dozen of his hapless best friends could score entry passes was not a good tradeoff and so, in the end, the Captain sent round an email announcing the camp's decision not to have a presence at Burning Man this year, good luck, have fun if you make it.

All winter I dreamed of improving on Lurveseat 1.0 by building a fresh new revision, LS2, that would likewise be made of wheelchair and bicycle parts but use the lessons learned in building LS1 to make it a vastly superior product. I still want to build it but as hinted at here I've generally had better things to do with my weekends than hunker down in a workshop and go blind re-learning how to weld. Besides, Burning Man is an intense week but it's only one week and having learned how swiftly that week can fly by, I need to go in with some idea of how not to impose unwanted limitations on myself. Resigning from my mayoral duties was a good step in that direction. So I wondered if I really wanted to expend untold effort just so I could have a neat little machine to tool around in, the chief reward being people saying, wow, what a neat little machine to tool around in. I don't really want to go and show what a clever boy I am. I want to go and meet people and do stuff. Well, noon today was the deadline for submitting the mutant vehicle application my four-wheeled electric machine would require, and I happily let it pass by. One less commitment.

Old wheelchairs never die

(Mind you, I've got some crucial parts already, and am considering the loophole that I believe allows three-wheeled electric vehicles in without restriction. Something to do with how Nevada state law defines various types of conveyance. This depends on the next month's worth or so of weekends.)

I get the Jack Rabbit Speaks, of course, and once in awhile I look at it. Mostly it's a reminder that just like any other large organization, the BMOrg is full of people who are organized and have meetings and can articulate in bullet points. But a recent one had an announcement concerning a cappella singing on the playa OH MY GOD I HAD TO READ MORE. I used to sing barbershop and was in the playa choir in 2009 and was blown away by a small vocal group that performed at Center Camp one day, so this really caught my attention. I wrote for info and got a detailed reply that tells me a) it's right up my alley in terms of challenging my capabilities, i.e. one singer per part, tough harmonies, multiple styles, various performance dynamics; and b) it would be a major time commitment. They want the music memorized and performance-ready by the time we hit the playa and the singers all sharp and sober for four hours of random high-quality performances for four straight days. Aauugh. That's a commitment.

Photo thanks to erawk

But I'd be singing. On stage and in random unexpected places. I'd be giving and taking and fully immersed. I'd be alive such that no mutant vehicle or leadership role could ever do for me. So even though it's scary to commit to all that time, I'm staying on the mailing list.