On My Way Home
by Barbara Sicuranza (continued)
Theme camps are a softly structured way to hang around with freaks who
under any other condition may seem difficult to approach. A door. A way
to mingle. Perchance, to tingle. First we stop at the BRC Post Office.
Lots of action here. Some folks getting stamps, ink stamps, on their hands,
boobs, where ever. There is a train of the usual suspects so we join the
line up. The postal workers seem accurately disgruntled, and are giving
people a general hard time. We arrive at a window, are given some forms
to fill out and sent on our way. Strangely bureaucratic and deliciously
absurd. The forms require we do service for another theme camp, in order
to obtain our green cards. Our Green Cards will identify us as citizens
of Black Rock City thereby exempting us from spectator status. A precious
postal officer, Teddy is dressed ever so smartly in officers jacket and
he is familiar with Mr. Stein, the rocker. Soon they enjoy a brief fencing
match in the midday sun. Never a dull moment.
Moving along we discover the passport office, standing around trying to
decide if I want to approach the information table or the humiliation
table. We find ourselves chatting up a beautiful Indian guy named Two
Feather. I must have called him Toothfeather 50 times before Chris corrected
me. I thought he said Toothfeather. Well Tooth and Chris and I and a couple
of naked folks are plucked off the end of the long line and asked to fill
out some more crazy forms and to draw our pictures in our new passports.
Chris and I bribe our way through the system with beads and trinkets and
are rushed through to see the doctor for our physical examination. The
women in front of us had drawn a portrait of her vagina on her passport,
so there was some question as to proper verification her identity. After
some discussion and closer examination they determined it was her all
right, her portrait an "uncanny likeness". Well, actually it was a weak
drawing (up close her pie was much sweeter than the crude likeness drawn
with magic markers on her passport), but after all, she was up on the
table with her legs and lips apart, smiling. Lets hear it for that. Yee
Haw.
My passport, issued by the ARF deems me "a free global citizen, and is
not subject to political, economic, or social boundaries." And that's
not all, it also states; "As a citizen of the Artists Republic of Fremont
it is your duty to exemplify a code of social conduct which furthers the
freedom of artistic expression; to question authority; wage a continuous
assault upon the forces which seek to censor us; to be loyal to your own
artistic integrity; to stand united against the lies and injustices with
which our enemies assail us; to be pure of heart and soul; to lawfully
and unlawfully uphold the morals of the anarchists code. de Libertas Quirkus."
Traveling on we encounter another dust storm, they are sudden, sporadic
and occasionally brutal, not to mention hot as hell, in search of shelter
we stop over at Camp Haiku where I trade a Haiku for a drink, as per their
request: The perfect playa Marching on, we pass camp Menstrual Cramp where a bevy of personal feminine
products are offered to all. Chris spots Two Feathers bike outside a tent
and notes he's probably fucking white women. Well, we certainly hope so.
Stick a fork in him, I think he's done. Maybe it was the fencing at high
noon in the desert. Chris has had it, so he heads to our camp to rest
and refuel. I press on, pulling my shawl tightly about my face to block
the onslaught of dust.
Next I stop into Costco; the soul mate trading post to duck out of the
storm and check out the soul mate reassignment process. It seems I'm short
a soul to offer for trade in so as I prepare to turn and face the extreme
elements, the good people of Costco introduce me to a sweet and slight
brown boy from California who is also in need of a soul to drop in for
exchange. Then Sam and I (no he does not like green eggs and ham, yes,
I asked him, Sam I am.) He gave me some water and I gave him a "beautiful
burner" bracelet I had made that morning. I filled out some more forms,
what I liked and disliked. I couldn't think of anything to dislike except
ego and anchovies. They asked boy, girl, or both; I think I said yes or
D) all of the above, but I requested a girl and hoped for the best. They
took a video pic and I was on my way back to camp to re-hydrate.
settles thickly in my nose
where the hell am I
