Here are the kitchen folks:
Floppy
If the bus has a leader, it's Floppy. He's aptly named (most of the Rainbow Gathering-type names are fitting), as his whole body seems to hang limp. He's skinny, with uncombed but otherwise straight blond hair just past his shoulders, and always wears a droopy-brimmed baseball cap. His voice is lazy and slow, but his eye contact is intense and constant. He's a natural leader, and when someone newly meets the group and is telling some anecdote to everyone, that person will usually end telling the story to just Floppy. Eyes just fall on him, even though he's not at all what you'd call charismatic, at least not in the surface sense. He has that inexplicable way. Also, when Floppy speaks, no matter how much conversation is going on, everyone will quiet down and listen. He has probably thirty Pink Floyd tapes, most of them of live shows, and introduced me to John Prine, who is a sort of blue-collar Loudon Wainright (a cross between Loudon and Harry Chapin). Floppy's about 30 years old, been working with "mobile kitchens" since 1992. He can say "lets blow this popsicle stand" and make it sound cool. When he drinks enough Jim Beam he plays air guitar to his Iron Maiden tapes and was heard to say "I been riff raff since I was 13."
Dina
Floppy's girlfriend. Looks just like him, with a generally limp demeanor, long hair topped by a baseball cap, and a lazy way of speaking. Awesomely capable woman, spends much time "wrenching" on the camper engine. Independent as hell. As with Floppy, when she speaks all conversation stops.
Shay
Floppy and Dina's dog. A "res dog", which means a dog originally from an Indian reservation. Evidently these dogs have it rough, and this one certainly has: she has a stub for a tail and all sorts of scars on her ass from being rear-ended by a car.
Tony
Tony's been spending no money for years. He's totally committed to the lifestyle, and is definitely an activist within it, trying to stir what he calls the "nihilists" back to the spirit of anarchism, which, he says, is helping yourself. He looks quite the gutterpunk, though he says most of the gutterpunks are just depressive drunks. He wants to start a pirate radio station out of the R.V. He's hugely intelligent, articulate, literate; I was intensely surprised to learn he stopped school at ninth grade.
It amazes me that although he's as passionate about the anarchist movement as he is, he still has so much of his own personality. When I lived among the squatters in New York it seemed like they took this opportunity given by not paying rent and did nothing but cogitate on it. All they'd talk about was squatting. I used to say of them that they'd traded their occupations for pre-occupations. But Tony hasn't at all: he's still a good all-around person.
One last fact about Tony: no one here takes showers more often than, say, once every two weeks, but Tony seems to be the one you'd most want to keep upwind of.
Jose
Upon meeting him you'd first be struck by the fact that he's 280+ pounds of surly, goateed Puerto Rican. But, you guessed it, he's the nicest guy. He's originally from Miami, and has a bit of that Miami Latino culture thing. He introduced me to Santaria music, which is extra abstract and tense rhythms with eerie and beautiful chanting. The chanting isn't in Spanish but "in tongues".
Whenever I give him a ride in my car he leaves behind a meaty stink wherever he was sitting, which gets worse if the car is left in the sun. He professes to be purely peaceful, but in a pinch will use his size to intimidate someone, as when some old house frau swatted his pitbull when it barked at her dogs. He got right in this 40ish woman's face and said "Don't you hit my dog, bitch, I'll slap you down." Also, when we were sleeping on the beach and someone approached us to bum a cigarette Jose sort of barked him away, laughing after visibly intimidating this poor guy on the nighttime deserted beach. He clearly has aggressive tendencies but they're pushed below the surface by the cultural demand that he be peaceful (if he ever hit anyone he'd be ostracized and he knows it). He's also not the sharpest tool in the shed, and gets brutally picked on by Tony and Floppy. Has the word "Love" tattooed on his finger-knuckles, and a butterfly between his thumb and forefinger.
Luna
Jose's dog. Another dumb-as-wood pitbull but one of the most timid dogs I've met, probably owing to Jose's constantly yelling at her trying to get her to obey him. She's shy, but when she gets around another dog (something Jose tries to prevent) or when you finally manage to get her to play, her inner-pitbull comes out and she barks and bites hard. She sleeps inside Jose's sleeping bag at his feet, and will climb inside any open sleeping bag.
Rich
Looks the typical Rainbow Gathering part with long blond dreadlocks and facial hair that always seems to configure itself to resemble a bird of prey. He's a classically trained pianist, sightreads Beethoven, but doesn't play much unless he can find an unguarded piano in a cafe or university. Quiet and independent, he's prone to suddenly disappearing and taking solo walks through the park, especially at night. Thought the internet was the "inner net". Great to talk to, but if his voice becomes a little pinched it means he's about to get into his conspiracy and/or metaphysical theories, in which case I've found it best to change the subject or end the conversation. Is semi-convinced that the HAARP project in Alaska is emitting thought-controlling radio waves, and believes he had a one-on-one confrontation with the devil. Other pet conspiracy theories involve the Philadelphia Project, the 12th Planet, the 6th and 7th Books of Moses, Motique Project, Telluric Currents, and the German Hypothesis. Manages to greet the most haggard of our soup kitchen customers with an amazingly warm smile.
Glenn
Like myself, he "plugged in" to the kitchen for a while. He's black, but doesn't have a trace of a blaccent. He and I worked as extras in a movie about hippies (a whole nother article) and, driving to the site with him navigating the map, I discovered he doesn't know his left from his right. Has dreams of uniting the whole Burning Man scene into what he calls a circus and being the one to profit from it. That defense mechanism that keeps each of us believing we're special is working just fine with him. Has a black foot fungus that no medication can cure. Lived in one of the larger homeless encampments in the park until he had to leave because of very convincing death threats. It's a good story, so here it is:
