Night Watch

Friday Night...

Almost there. God I love this. My throat is still sore, two 14 hour days in a row and restorative helpings of "Hawaiian Punch" haven't exactly helped, but oh well. I'm sleeping on the truck tonight, guarding our creation from the denizens of Bayshore who might take an unhealthy, unwholesome interest in her sublime, half-naked form.

Yesterday ended my 10 day fast, a cleansing, purifying experience that I shared with Nick, who unhesitatingly joined me in this simple but important act of will and self control. Ihad a great time this time, feeling stronger and happier than I had ever felt on the cleanse before. If you've never fasted, I have to tell you it challenges a lot of the conventions and routines in your life while opening you up to a whoie range of new experiences and perceptions. It's amazing how much you become aware of when you stop eating. I not only survived, but thrived on nothing but a simple concoction of juice I squeezed form organic lemons, grade B maple syrup, and a dash of cayenne.

Leapt forward again today. Total awe at the response, the enthusiasm, the dedication of our coconspirators. Dan and Greg put in the second staircase - the last thing tonight - after midnight. Now the driver can access the roofdeck via another hidden staircase, eliminating the need to open the massive, vertically pivoting side hatch altogether.

Dan got here at 7am to hold our parking spot next to the vehicle,preserving precious work space, and to relieve Lorenzo, who had slept in the truck last night. This must be the fourth or fifth night he's worked til midnight.He left the shop at 11, boight fabric for the truck and shade structures and scored free sheets of aluminum for the wheel treads, Do n affixed them to the treads today - they look great.

Jen, Dan's true love, came in today after work at the veterinary clinic. She painted, and drilled out the Sno-Kone trays with me. The trays, made of lovely curved pieces of leftover wood, now have little holes in them for carrying Kones to folks who can't make it to the truck. Jen is lovely - funny, brillaint, beautiful, and full of life, and she can go toe to toe with Dan in every department.

How can a boy who's spent the better part of three decades looking for a connection to his family - one that never really materialized - find himself suddenly surrounded by brothers and sisters?

It's really something watching Dan at work, He confidently directs several projects at once, coaching inexperienced would-be carpenters on how to complete their sundrt tasks and holding multiple measurements in his head. All the while, the whole design is clear to him, though it exists only in his head. There is no blueprint, no schedule, no plan per se, he simply forms an idea for the structure and constructs it in his mind, on the fly. He makes adjustments and corrections effortlessly, and he is nearly always right! I learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. The tower he designed for Frosty's Roilling Revival at Burning Man '03 was an improbable ice cream cone-shaped affair that tapered to almost nothing at its base and swelled to a huge ornamental "egg" at the top that contained a wicker throne on a lazy susan. The tower withstood everything that was thrown at it, including three totally inebriated women at the Critical Tits cocktail party who were literally swinging with all their weight back and forth.

The Bipolar Express is by far our most ambitious project to date. It is a shining example of improv carpentry at its best. What a mind Dan has! Love him lots. We are building it together and watching it take shape before our eyes, veer off in unexpected and delightful directions, and achieve a sublime beauty. It's a gift I will never forget. Thanks, brother.
posted by Caltrain @ 11:52 PM

All Aboard!

This past weekend was a huge success for the crew of the Bipolar Express. Overwhelming participation = serious progress on the vehicle. We got the wheels completed and painted, the walls of the cab squared and set in place, and the massive entry door hung. How do I describe the thrill of walking around Dan's workshop and it seeing so many people working away industriously on the myriad of projects that will make the BPE whole? It was like being in Santa's workshop, only everyone was good-looking and funny instead of funny-looking and good.

Captain Dan (Conductor Dan now, I guess) marshalled the forces outside, stabilizing the staircase, preparing the mounts for the cowcatcher at the front, directing the carving of the curved forms that would form the front of the locomotive. Inside, Hannah and another crew, moving with practiced efficiency, stretched fresh mylar over dorskin panels where the mylar had been damaged since last year. Nate, Jen and Erin slapped primer on the massive rear wheels assemblies, while Lizzie and Elke primed the sheets that will form the walls of the train cab. Lorenzo and I formed the treads for the smaller wheels, then went on to countless other projects. Even Jess and Aaron, not official members of Camp Frosty, showed up to pitch in. Aaron's not even sure if is hitting the playa this year. Frikkin Bad Ass.

Such an amazing feeling to see everyone working in concert, different jobs, all toward the same end. As Hannah said to me at one point, "It feels so much better to ride around on this thing knowing there's a little bit of your sweat in there."

We rode in the partially assembled BPE, Dan and Jen and Lizzie and me, through the failing light, back to her parking berth in the fashionably downscale Bayshore District. I couldn't help but stamp my feet and giggle with glee. Heads swiveled to watch our improbable castle in the sky chug by. Understandable - she looks like something not intended for this world, let alone a city street.

How many people get to ride triumphantly inside the juggernaut, the palace, the sanctuary of their own dreams?

Every morning I wake up into a dream.

10 Days. Lots to do. We're in good shape.

10 Days.