I AM Burning Man.

I just got the most hideous sunburn in the history of man.  And
there's a typical Kai story behind the trip that got me there, too...

I was off to the death, err, wedding of a co-worker/friend in Houston.
Probably the most fascinating thing about this story is the fact that
I made it there on time and ready to go.  I even had a few minutes to
park behind some loading docks and throw on my noose, err, tie.  It
was a Catholic wedding and perhaps I should make a few notes about
that at this point.  Maybe someone out there could enlighten me about
a few things...

The first thing that suprised me was the double-ended noose that was
wrapped around the necks of both victims.  I was amazed at how candid
the Catholics could be in their symbolic acceptance that this ceremony
constituted, quite clearly, a double suicide.

The next thing that amazed me was how unabashed the priest was in his
attempt to get drunk, knowing he would not be at the reception
afterwards.  First he took a drink of wine from a large glass.  When I
say large I mean HUGE.  He then offered a little to Odette, the bride,
who took a small sip.  Without even giving David (the groom) a chance,
he drained the rest of it!  I've never seen anyone put that much wine
away in one shot and I've been to my share of frat parties!  So he
managed to get through the rest of the ceremony and then, after it was
all over, I saw him walking past me with the whole bottle of wine!
Somehow I never pictured the Catholics as such partiers, although come
to think of it many of the best beers I have ever had are brewed by
monks...

Ah but my tale has strayed.  As did I, after the wedding.  I said my,
"see ya at the recepetion"s, and off I went into downtown Houston.
Unfortunately, the reception was no where NEAR downtown Houston.
After a one and a half hour tour (during which I apparently passed the
reception twice) I started to get really hungry and began looking for
a place to grab food.

Now my idea of a great place to eat is one that cannot be found.  The
only way to get to it is by bending over to tie your shoe or tripping
and falling on your face only to look up and see a tiny sign that
says, "good China dumpling here" or the like.  The less on the sign
that you can understand, the better.  (All of this holds true for
other ethnic places as well, of course.)  Then you go through a tiny
door and into a tiny place with about six tables, each of which is
surrounded by folding chairs.  Every chair is full, and the place has
the appearance of complete chaos.  People of every possible
description chatter loudly from all around, and in the kitchen you
hear sizzling and shouts.  The owner of the restuarant herself then
walks up to you and waves you to a place in the corner somewhere and
drops a menu on you.  For about four bucks you order the biggest pile
of the biggest steamed dumplings you have ever seen in your life.
They are also the tastiest, and they even come with a whole pot of
tea.  Better yet, you don't even have to ask for chopsticks.  After
finishing the meal and incapacitating yourself by eating every last
bite, you sip tea for a few more minutes before leaving.  As you pay,
the girl behind the counter doesn't understand why you are giving her
extra money (tip) and the owner comes up to you again to give you a
big smile, asks how everything was, and thanks you for coming.

Luckily for me, that's exactly what happened.

Some of you might be wondering where the Burning Man part comes in.
Be patient!  This is a Kai babbling and, like an ant heading for the
jelly jar, it takes a lot of weaving and circling before it comes to
an end.

So I finished eating and decided to head on out to Galviston island,
less than an hour away.  Although I had hoped to camp once I got
there, the whole park was full.  The guard wouldn't even let me pay
him the two dollar entrance fee and sleep in the parking lot.  So I
headed down the road a ways until I came to a "public beach camping"
sign.  A little sand road headed down onto the beach, where a two
hundred foot strech of beach was marked on either end by wooden poles.
I pulled in and did a little guitar playing, had a tasty "dunkle
weitzen" and got ready to sleep.  As soon as I cranked the seat back,
a huge truck roared out onto the sand, did a 360 with its headlights,
and spun back out after realizing that I was there.  I assumed that
they were local teenagers looking for a place to smooch.  The thing
is, this happened about ever twenty minutes for several hours!  On the
plus side I figured that this meant that they knew no cops would be
coming around to kick them out... and I would get the same benefit.
Finally a family in two cars parked on the opposite end and set up a
tent.  My guess is that they were kicked out by the same rude ranger
that I encountered.

Of course the only problem with sleeping out is that when the sun
comes up, so do you.  I managed to last till about 8:00 when I gave up
and headed for the larger beach.  Like all computer nerds climbing out
of their cubicle caves to stand blinking in the sun, I knew that my
pale bod wouldn't last five minutes in the blazing sun.  So I blew
some cash on waterproof suntan lotion, glazed myself like a human
doughnut and dipped myself in the ocean.

The rest of the day was great.  There was a nice breeze so the
temperature was perfect and the ocean water felt like a warm bath.  It
was even better than a real bath, in fact, because it never turned
annoyingly cold-- like when you were a kid and the rubber shark was
just about to eat the last lego man.  There were frisbees and
beautiful women and old guys doing yoga in front of the waves.  What
more could I want?  Well... how about waterproof suntan lotion that
did what it was told?

I was climbing out of the water from my last swim at 4:30.  I had been
out in the sun for about eight hours.  As I climbed from the ocean
onto land I was greeted by looks of horror not unlike that on the
faces of the people of Tokyo as a huge green lizard named Godzilla
stepped from the waves.  A woman demanded that I take some of her
suntan lotion and, getting the hint, I took a look.  I had become the
blazing red of a cooked crab.  I told her that it was too late for me,
save yourself!  I then grabbed up my towel and headed for the car.

Over the course of the three and a half hour ride home the burn got
worse and worse.  I had to put a wet towel between the seat and
seatbelt and myself.  I had shirts tossed loosly over any area the sun
happend to hit through the car window.  During the entire trip I used
only my feet and wrists to drive.  By the time a got home to Austin, I
had become Burning Man.

I tried to go into work yesterday, but the pain of wearing clothes was
too much.  True, you can type without moving any part of your body,
but every time my shirt touched my stomach I had to scream in pain.
Luckily my boss, Cary Camden, is one of the coolest on earth and so I
am working from home in nothing but shorts and blue aloe ooze, which I
must re-apply every hour, and without which I could not survive.

I hope you all are smarter than me,
and never trust a suntan lotion label again!

Sincerely Kai,
The Burning Man.

P.S.

As soon as the pictures get developed, I'll be sure to put um up on
the website.  Apparently the red roof in the background is pale in
comparison!