One no good thing to know is I am not nor will I ever be ready for Burning Man. What that really means, of course, is that, ready or not, I am ready to learn how to be ready for something I am not ready for. It's all about letting go. A fulfilling life seems to be all about letting go. Why is that? We spend decades learning to gather and grasp, and then more decades learning to catch and release. But here's a picture I took on I-80 up by Newcastle Saturday, of someone who at least gives the appearance of being ready.
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| This might be a playa wedding arch |
I was headed for a camp meeting. I was invited to join a camp I'm friends with but have never hung out with much. They even gave me an early arrival pass. They're foothills people, Auburn mostly. I like foothills people. I get kind of a cold feeling from San Francisco people, and find inlanders to be warmer and more real. Maybe this is related to my observation after I moved from Berkeley to Sacramento thirty years ago that people in my home town (and thus perhaps the broader area) were not very friendly. Anyway, there's a sort of anti-redneck hippie vibe in the foothills that differs from the Bay Area variety in that they have redneck roots and relatives hence aren't full of the usual Bay Area bigotry. Yeah, I just made that up. Sue me.
Wow, I just found an ancient link from back in the days groups made their own discrete websites: Burntown.
Prior to the meeting I took the trike down to Old Sac so my sweetheart could use it in the parade. I didn't dress up so just took a few pictures, of which here's a set on Fussbook.
Now I have two days to show my coworkers I'm not the long-haired slacker they think I am while simultaneously obsessing over a myriad of forgotten details and writing blog posts. Something here needs letting go of. I really wish it could be my earned income but alas, I may have to exercise a wee bit of discipline now.
7 comments:
Wow, I complained about Sanfriscans twice already. I need to get over myself. Most of them are awesome wicked cool. Think maybe there's a tiny dash of sour grapes at work here? No? Okay.
Indeed. What is real?
What is hip, for that matter?
Coleman Hawkins fronting the Duke Ellington Orchestra on "Mood Indigo" is one answer.
Maybe a few too many interactions with genuine assholes, which can color a perception. Like thinking all Beemer drivers are arrogant fuckwits.
Aren't they?
I haven't met any yet that are not. But I prefer to remain optimistic.
One of my bosses drives a beemer and he's a great guy and an excellent driver. My roommate has an older, smaller one and she's a sweetheart. HOWEVER. Those are but 2 examples and I feel the generalization stands.
I do agree though that now that the idea is in (some of) our heads that BMW drivers are jerks we'll be prone to noticing jerk behavior from them and ignoring it in others; plus ignoring any standard decent driving behavior from BMW drivers. Confirmation bias. But so what? If this bothers BMW drivers overmuch, they can just go buy something else. Boo hoo.
And I have a lot to do too! I've started tweeting under my romance name AND playing more trivia. My gawd.
The guys I work for have an annoying habit of increasing my work load just prior to Burning Man. That makes them jerks. They may even be BMW drivers! And probably come from San Francisco. Or maybe it's just Cisco...
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