#82 / 2008 Tour 4 Winter: Slab City, Day Six

SLAB CITY, DAY SIX

#82

Well into our visit at the Slabs I wonder at the conversations around the firepits at the Oasis Club and Michael Bright's trailer. There's the big hearted laugh of Bill, the Slab's biggest promoter and resident of twenty years, and the mischievousness and sprightliness of Sterling the playwright. Jim quotes Shakespeare and discusses Civil War generals. John shows slide shows of his artwork on a laptop. The discussions fluctuate between the Fascism of Bill Gates and William Randolph Hearst to movies.

"Who was the female in 'The Third Man' with Joseph Cotton and Orsen Welles?" asks Michael B. Beatlick Joe is in heaven with all these film buffs and he waxes philosophical long into the night.

About the fifth day we begin to notice some aromas associated with excrement and ever present hum of generators. I begin to worry that we hadn't dug our own holes deep enough. But a little stroll convinced me the aroma was on the wind. I don't know if it is the cows five miles out or the Slabs. Most of these big rigs are self-contained but some of the smaller set ups and the locals just dig holes.

It was a bonding experience over at Michael B.'s firepit as the wind wafted across his recently filled hole and we all maneuvered to get upwind of the creosote-soaked firewood.

There's a big party also over at one of the big abandoned tanks. A young cyclist moved into a giant tank and turned it into a comfortable home. He hosts biking festivals apparently and the "Midnight Riders" out of L.A. have been arriving all weekend. I happened to be cleaning a big skillet over at the community kitchen when a young man in spandex and bleached-blond hair, weighing in at about 120 pounds, asked me with the inquisitiveness of an investigative journalist, "What is this place all about? Do you live here all the time?"

There's a big party at the "Range" tonight and they're all invited. The campers and RVs started lining up before sunset. On the big slab and stage area dozens of old chairs, couches, theater seats, and barco loungers of all states of disrepair were arranged theater style to seat at least fifty people.

The sign said "All dogs must be leashed" but no one bothered and as usual, the dogs behaved admirably. The bikers showed up in costumes they apparently ride around L.A. in. One male wore a bunny costume complete with enormous ears, there were tinsel boas around one guy's neck and most were adorned in iridescent rings that glow in the dark. All the better to be seen by oncoming traffic I assume.

There were hot dogs for a dollar, burritos for two, and some cookies made from somebody's legal pot prescription. I waited all night for Michael B. to show up with the free beer that requires a dollar donation but he never showed up in his beer cooler go cart.  

The community feeling here is palpable. I like Deiter especially. He is German, drives a an old Bluebird school bus with "Cool Bus" written on the front, and a peace sign in the back. For all the world he looks like Las Crucen poet Dick Thomas in blond braids!

A few solo acts opened for "Drop 7," an awesome local band named after the drops in the old canal around Slab City. The first couple up danced ballroom style like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. He was extremely clean cut for the Slabs with a black-and-white Fedora and black-and-white shoes (are those spats?) which almost reached the spot lights of recycled paint cans as he kicked his right leg into the air and over his head. He was dancing with a red head in high-heeled red boots. They were no spring chickens but they danced like kids all night.

The slender woman with the long grey hair and lithe body who was asked to dance the most and did a beautiful job of it didn't have a tooth in her head. The creosote logs burned bright in the trash bins all around the dance floor. The marijuana cookies kicked in on a lucky few in the bike club and the night was full of limbo dancers.

Great fun at the Range. I scored big the next morning at the Swap Meet in Niland. I hitch-hiked into town. At the swap I found gas canisters! - four for $5.50 - an outrageous steal. I nabbed them fast. Then I found a potato masher, I left mine in Albuquerque I guess, and an allen wrench to tighten up the back window.

We also found the hot springs or hot pond as it sometimes called, with a clay bottom. That makes it a bit murky and I declined to jump in this day, but next time.