I shaved my head!

Hey, what else is an SF Raver to do in the desert? I mean, I had already spent the better part of the day soaking in the natural hot springs, eating, drinking, smoking, and hunting for cool rocks, so the mood struck me to shave my head and I acted on it. Feel free to rub it next time we dance near each other.

But this band-width usage isn't about just me, or my head, it's about a lone raver's experience in a non-raver's world...

The third night in the desert was the craziest. Whenever you get 22 people together partaking in outdoor activities, wherein every decision is part of a collective, it's hard to come to agreements that please the whole all the time. (You know the adage, I shant repeat it.) Dinners were pretty much planned; tubbing, drinking, smoking, and dosing were up to the individual -- I partook amply in the first three and declined the last reluctantly. As for music, the dividing lines ran as deep as the gourges in the beautiful Inyo Mountain range that we stared upon for hours. The atmosphere is so relaxed though, that it wasn't as if there were huge debates going on over the music.

Anyway, I never made a big deal about not getting to crank up some of the nice tapes I had brought to dance to; it just wouldn't have been appropriate to complain. I had to be resourceful, and I had to take whatever I could when it was offered. The moment came at about ten o'clock Saturday night...

The sky was fucking huge. I mean just so full of stars you could truly get a "feel" for the three dimensional aspect of the solar system. The constelations took on new meaning with the clarity of their outline (Orion's bow was especially nice to see again). I realized it was my time to act. Most people were sitting around the fire, and no one seemed to care when the tape of whoknowswhat ended. I had to choose something that would appeal to 21 non-ravers, so I grabbed the worn and wonderful Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultra World. Now, I don't want to start a massive thread about whether or not The Orb is "Techno" music, but under the circustances, it was closer to techno than, say, Janes Addiction. The trucks were parked in a semi circle, and I snuck around to the non-fire side and rolled down the window. I was alone and quickly ran around to tell a few people who I thought might want to share the experience, but no one responded when I whispered "There's a rave going on on the other side of the cars. Sssshhhh." Wink wink. They probably thought I was tripping or something, but I wasn't.

THIS IS WHERE YOU COME IN!!

I ran back to the other side of the cars and for a moment I felt alone. Well, I mean, I *was* alone, but I felt lonely, and we all know there's a difference between being alone and being lonely. Here I was with a bald head and more stars staring down on me than you could shake your ass at. But I will tell you this my friends, when Little Fluffy Clouds came on and I sank my teeth into that drug we call music, I thought so hard of you that I could fairly see you dancing with me. Let me point out again I was not on hallucinogens, but just really really happy to take 45 minutes to dance and sing and look at the stars and think about all the friends and family I've encountered in the past year. My feeling of being lonely was assuaged, my feet were moving fast, the stars were shining, I had this big fucking grin on my face and wonderful thoughts of you in my head, and when it was all over I sat down near the fire and grinned like lovers that had just run off and had a quickie without anyone knowing.

The point of this story is this: The scene is what *YOU* make it. Someone will have the best time of their life at the rave you had the worst; and vice versa. People may come into our scene and tell us that it's wrong, or that it can be done better, or that it can be an enormous global movement. Well, I for one don't know if I want that, because before it gets that far it will be turned into a fucking circus, a marketing wet dream -- a lost dream. This isn't about getting bigger in attendance, it's about getting bigger within yourself.

All kinds of people will sniff at our scene, but only those that are honest about why they are there will stay long enough to make an impact. Only those that get the shiver of chills when they walk down the stairs at some new venue and first hear the thump, thump, thump...and turn to the stranger with a beaming face next to them and grab their hand and yell gleefully "This is going to be a great party!!" will care to stay on board. You can't dish out the kind of love we are trying to spread with a firehose, it must be hand fed one drop at a time. I say we do not attempt to lambaste the people with our movement, but let them discover individually the treasure we have hidden and that we pull out every weekend for heat, and love, and life. It's not about who's doing it better, nor who's doing it bigger, but that we are doing it at all.

And it's about being alone under the desert stars and having the littlest rave possible -- A rave of one with the love and spirit of one thousand. Thank you for sharing it with me; I could hardly wait to tell you about it.

Tony

P.S. My suggestion for the name of our summer of raving? I like: Nothing Mediaworthy to See Here.

Date: Thu, 30 Mar 95 11:59:47 PST
From: Mike Lasmanis <Mike_Lasmanis@ccm.sc.intel.com>
Subject: Re: One Ravers Delight

This reminds me of the best rave I was at: by myself at the top of Half Dome (Yosemite NP). I had been backpacking in the backcountry and was on my way out. I camped at the base of half dome (just before the steps). Stupid me had decided to go camping during the one of the moster storms of january. It had been rainig/snowing/sleeting/lightning for the last three days and had cleared about 1 hour earlier. Made dinner and noticed that the sky had cleared. I climbed up half dome (made it to the top at about 11pm). I had the world to myself. The storm was running out to the east. I was small in the scheme of things, yet I ruled the earth.

Mother Nature provided the setting: lights/effects by Mr. Lightning to the east, sound/DJ by various creatures and thunder provided the beat. I think this has been the first and only time I have been musically inclined (I have zero musical talent). The music building in my head was nothing I had heard before. The beat and energy lifted me like nothing I had felt before. I wish I could read music because I might have been able to write parts of it down but alas, it is lost. I spent three hours dancing by myself on the top of the world totally free. Nothing has ever brought me that close to nirvana.

The point of this story is this: The scene is what *YOU* make it. Someone will have the best time of their life at the rave you had the worst; and vice versa.

I totally agree. Having just moved out here only a few months ago, I definetly have my opinion about what the scene should be. But that does not make the scene here any better or worse than anywhere else. If you don't like it, move or try and change it, but don't just criticize it. Be constructive and make a difference. There are no absolutes in this world just varying degrees of gray.

And it's about being alone under the desert stars and having the littlest rave possible -- A rave of one with the love and spirit of one thousand. Thank you for sharing it with me; I could hardly wait to tell you about it.

It is an amazing experience to be alone and humbled and *ALIVE* is nature feeling it energy coursing through you. <the chills set in as I think about it>

lot's o' love!
mike