In nine hours I am going to be on a plane, over Oakland, watching the Bay Bridge fade behind the clouds. When that plane lands, I will find myself in Anchorage, Alaska, for the first time since a photo internship I did with the Daily News seven years ago.
It's a family reunion of sorts. My friend Jordo, a college buddy, is getting married. This is the Good Stuff my dad talks about, so when I got the invitation, I knew I had to go. The reunion part is that, where one college buddy appears, more tend to follow. Mix in a friend getting married, a bachelor party, and the fact that Anchorage gets about 20 hours of light a day right now, and it looks like I won't be sleeping for a while.
I'll spend five days there, only a few of which I plan on being able to remember. Then, on Tuesday, more Good Stuff. I'm going back to the playa. Back to Burning Man.
I haven't been back since 1998, when I organized Fray Camp and it nearly killed me. Haven't been back since, well, since it was ruined for me. I never even wanted to. But this year I want to. Because my sweetheart wants to. And because I want to be there when she experiences it. And because I want to take it back. For me.
The Anchorage to Reno trip wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't followed immediately by Web2001 a few days after our return, where I'm on a panel and giving a talk, and Fray Day, which is that Saturday.
Time isn't just flying these days, it's speeding. Warping. Folding space into tiny bumps at ludicrous speed.
Like I said: Stupid.
But I completely trust the Fray Day organizers to do what they've gotta do to get their events going, the SF volunteers to spread the word while I'm gone, and the rest can just take care of itself for a while. I'm gone, baby. Unplugged for the first time in what seems like years. I need this so bad, even my hair feels burnt out.
And besides, families only get together for Good Stuff and Bad Stuff. And I've missed these two families so.
{ 1:44am }
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