COYOTE NOSE VOLUME #5; ISSUE #01
Coyote Nose V5:#01: 2007
The fat and yellow moon snuck up over the mountains the other evening, surprising us without ceremony. We hadn't really been paying attention to the lunar calendars lately; but then again the moon doesn't either. It just is what it is, and there it was - a cartoon-sized wonderment stopping us all at mid-sentence. Big fat yellow full moon in a silent hover just over the shrub line, looking like you could toss a stone at it. Has is really been a complete full moon cycle since the event? Guess time flies when you're ridding the playa of Black Rock City. Let's see - were there any outstanding events taking place during the last full moon?
Speaking of jackasses in clown makeup trying to steal the show, the DPW cleanup crew had its annual talent show at the Black Rock Saloon last weekend. It was a HOOT! From chubby weenie Vienna sausage mouth stuffing contests to human dartboards to good juggling to bad singing - horrible three man gay dance routines and a puppet show that made no sense at all - a ghastly display of bravado with the hanging of a six-pack of beer from a pierced scrotum - good poems, bad jokes, good music, bad music, a song about menstruating complete with tampons being flung into the crowd, a beer balancing act, a cheerleader act (many of the girls looking a whole lot like guys) with the failed attempt at a pyramid ending in a pig pile of course, and the usual complete nonsense of the crew having a grand time that kept winding higher as the night wore on. At one point someone make the brilliant mistake to raid the kitchen for a flat of tomatoes, and this became one tough crowd! When the umteenth cherry tomato pinged off the MC's head for the last time, he had to take a cigarette break to let his blood sugar calm down. Like a relief baseball pitcher having to take the mound with bases loaded, I had to step up to that stage hell and face those jackals. Right on the mark, a two-pound full size beefsteak tomato instantly plowed into my chest squirting tomato snot everywhere! That's show biz, baby. I laughed it off and was actually quite amused that after twenty five years of stage work, I finally got a tomato thrown at me. I called them a bunch of assholes, threw shit back at them and the show raged on. I did have time to openly muse on the mike that it was another career first to be standing on a stage littered with smashed tomatoes and tampons.
The clean up crew works hard. The clean up crew plays hard. The clean up crew worked hard to clean up the Black Rock Saloon the next morning.
So, it has been a month since the Man burned then re-burned and the playa is once again vast and silent. Autumn has brought in its usual crystal curtain of freeze, and mornings are bringing frost on the windshields. Funny how the crew always couples up as the temperatures drop. Life's a lot easier when there's just a few choices. No bother deciding what to do for dinner either because Bruno's is the only menu in that menu pack. Back home is SF, I always go through a lot of culture shock when we get back with about twenty cuisines and forty eating places to choose from just in my neighborhood alone. Here, after a day of digging cigarette butts and bottle caps out of the frozen playa mud while getting blasted with the north ice winds of this weeks arctic cold front, the warm comfort food of hearty meat-loaf with mash potatoes and gravy is simply sublime. When you're out here in the high desert with winter coming, it's best to eat like the locals do.
So the yearning call for the will to survive in the desert has carved its way to my trailer door. Like fresh grass after a rain, life chooses its warm and welcome conduits into this world. Wouldn't you know that life has chosen my girlfriend, the lovely Hormel and I to be its timely host. In the spring, we will have the honors of bringing a child into the world.
Did you just say that Coyote and Hormel are having a baby?! You heard it right! We're bringing a new spud into the mix. Conceived in a trailer park in Gerlach - how DPW is that? As a matter of fact, the perimeter fence went up after the conception date meaning that the lovely Hormel was out there pounding t-stakes while pregnant! For that matter, the kid's not even born and has already done more that two weeks of walking the line sweeps picking up litter. This kid's DPW lineage goes as deep as, say, SAMURAI! Well, maybe not. But we'll be there to coax 'em right along.
(18 years into the future)
"You're not leaving the table 'til you've finished you beer, kid!"
"I don't want to hear it! You're DPW and that's final! You were spawned in a trailer..."
"I know, I know, dad. You've told me a thousand times. I was spawned in a trailer park in Gerlach. I was pounding t-stakes before I was born. I've been mooping up litter since I was an embryo - yadda yadda! But you see, dad, the Lunar Rock City regional starts this year and - I want to be a Moon Guardian.
(gasp!) (pause) (sputter!)
"Shut up and eat your bacon paste, kid!"