Let it Burn

I've been restless.

It's been almost a year since my solo trip to Copenhagen in which I hung out with a bunch of Scots, partied with high school kids and went to Tivoli Gardens with Adele.

I've shown remarkable restraint in passing up a $220 round trip flight to Colombia and a $264 round trip flight to Iceland primarily because I don't want to send my father to an early grave. (He thinks it is irresponsible to jet set across the world when you don't have things like "a job" or a "steady income.")

But thanks to my new Disney gig starting next month I will for the first time in my life have some sort of disposable income. So the question is 'where to go?'

And so it was that on a Saturday night in mid April I found myself at a familiar bar in Venice. I was drinking over priced beers and taking shots of well whisky to help overcome my inherent fear of talking to girls. There may or may not have been controlled substances involved.

Somewhere in the desert there were kids taking selfies in a tent, kissing strangers, living their best lives while I was standing in a corner at the fish taco place from 'I Love You Man.' So maybe this FOMO slightly played into what happened next.

'So I think I'm going to sell the burning man tickets.'

I snapped out of my funk.

"What Burning Man tickets?"

'I told you last week I was trying to get them.'

"I try to do a lot of things, but I usually fail."

'Well no, I have two.'

And that was the moment I decided that I was going to take my next trip to a fake temporary city in Nevada with no prior experience and no idea what the hell I am doing.

I can't wait.

***

To be honest, I don't even really know what Burning Man is all about. On first glance it seems to be full of all of the types of people I hate. People who believe in energies and say things like 'performance art' with no trace of irony. These are the people who follow a religion of 'good vibes' and astrology. There is no concept of reality or of consequence.

I think of it as a lawless oasis of hedonism that I simply must investigate before I die.

I have heard of Burning Man described most simply as a social experiment. Something that begs the question 'What happens when you put thousands of strangers in a desert for a week and remove all social obstructions?' I guess I will find out.

Now I don't have a camp, I have zero supplies and I don't even really have that many good friends I can go to for advice. I have some basic camping gear, a bunch of bro tanks and a general idea what it takes to survive for 5 days in grueling heat.

If I had to leave today I would probably take a backpack full of clothes, 30 gallons of water, 3 gallons of vodka, 150 beers, a tent, a shitty bike, 75 PB and Js and something to barter.

I would pitch my tent wherever I'm told to and ya I dunno, start uh, investigating?

To reiterate I have zero clue what I am doing. I don't know if there are showers, how much sun screen I will need, if I need a gas mask, whether to bring flash tats. Is it kosher to just walk into someone's camp and strike up a conversation? If someone wants to trade me a little trinket for like 6 beers is it rude to say no? Where do I go to the bathroom? Is there cell phone service? I've seen photos of naked people, am I expected to be naked? Is there a Samsung tent with air conditioning?

I'm not a super bad ass, but I have a feeling I'll be OK. If Fortune 500 CEOs can survive burning man, I'm pretty sure I can. I mean I went on a 27 mile hike once. That has to count for something. Right?

So here is the deal, if you have ever been please send me advice. I would love to connect with you friends that are going. I would love to read a guide that your sister wrote. If you're planning on going, I would love to meet up with you. I don't have extra tickets, we don't have room in our car but I do    a positive attitude and an itch for adventure.

Honestly part of me thinks this is a terrible mistake. I should spend a week in Thailand getting 2 dollar massages. I should hike Machu Picchu, yet I'm going all in on a hippie filled desert in rural Nevada. Call it research, call it Venice getting the better of me. Hell maybe I just want to have a trump card when I'm old to prove that I was cool once.

But whatever my reasons are...I'm going, and I'm way in over my head.

I have 18 weeks to figure this out, but then again I filed my taxes at 11:56pm last night, so help me...please.