Panamint Springs '04

An exchange overheard at the front desk on the second afternoon -  Housekeeper - "Holy Christ, did you know they have a POOL in #5 ???"  Front Desk - "You'd better bring your scuba gear."

There's always lots of flies at Panamint Springs. They land on your food and you shoo them away. You wouldn't expect flies in Death Valley. It's probably because of the pig. They had two pigs here at the compound. The mother pig died shortly after last years party of an unknown venereal disease. We should have been prime suspects but somehow we were welcomed back. The remaining pig is blind but he can still draw flies. You wave them off your dinner but they come right back. That's why some flies skip your picnic and go straight for the pig shit. Nobody ever shoos you away from pig shit.

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This party - we are all aware - will not be truely legendary until somebody dies. They tried to kill Father Luke on the way in when the ragtop VW Rabbit he was riding in went haywire at 85 miles an hour and rolled four times across the desert. Father Luke saw them coming though and had the prescience to be wearing a helmet. A WWII German-style helmet, just to rub it in.

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The only problem with eating large amounts of mushrooms is that there is no antidote should your circumstances change drastically. The police said they suspected that some of us were using other substances other than alcohol. Perhaps it was Becker in Leiderhosen in the middle of Death Valley sun. Maybe it was the people living in the tree. Or the guy on the Razor Scooter in a speedo and Japanese headband.

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But Billy is a fireman and knows how to talk to Heroes. "What kind of asshole throws a party all the way out here anyway?" they asked him. "Oh, he's back there somewhere." he said. And I was back there somewhere as a sandstorm raged with 75 mph gusts, tearing parts of the buildings down. I watch a twenty foot piece of aluminum siding hurling down the highway while Fat Men from Wisconsin shotgunned beers and my wife saw dead people and my bad trip finally broke like a fever.

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For those still confused - Gay Cousin Eric isn't really gay. We only call him that to mask the fact that he's a Jew.

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I can't remember enough of the rest of the event clearly enough to describe it. Nobody can. Thats the point. But for those who were there, Thank You - especially the Alaska Contingent - and we will see you next year. Here's some pictures for Mortimer - you were sorely missed.