Thursday, August 28, 2014

OMG! A Sold-Out Burning Man

The real story for August is Burning Man. How many of you know Burning Man? You know, the annual festival devoted to radical self-reliance and self-expression...?

Okay, so where am I?

Well...

I decided to make the pilgrimage to better understand a world I had immersed myself in, downtown Las Vegas, where Zappos CEO Tony Hsieh is investing a portion of his personal fortune into what he hopes will become a sustainable entrepreneurial ecosystem. There are streaks of Burning Man everywhere (e.g., a 40 ft.-praying mantis spews out fire every night near the new Zappos campus), and I wanted to see the inspiration for myself.

But getting to my destination proved to be more expensive and challenging than I ever anticipated. Tickets are $380, and factoring in transportation, camp dues, and basic survival gear, it cost around $2,000 just to get through the gate—the bare minimum by most standards. For many of the 70,000 revelers, expenses skyrocket well past that amount. Black Rock City still operates as a sharing (or “gifting”) economy, but commercialization lies just beyond the festival’s borders.

You’ll only need 200-something items…

I found an at-value ticket in mid-August, which was lucky, because the last-minute “OMG” tickets were already sold out. To claim my ticket, I met my seller at a luxury apartment building in downtown Las Vegas, where I was greeted by two 20-somethings who presented the golden ticket while playing guitar and wearing rabbit ears. Along with it, they handed me an official Burning Man Survival Guide outlining the festival’s 10 principles.

“You have to prepare for everything,” a longtime burner warned me. “The weather can be extreme and highly unpredictable.” In Black Rock City, temperatures often reach over 100ºF during the day and can dip below freezing once the sun sets. Windstorms are a normal occurrence, and in whiteout conditions, winds can reach around 70mph. “Survival first,” she stressed. “Costumes last.” Having moved to Las Vegas with just two suitcases only a few weeks prior, I barely had enough everyday clothing on hand, nevertheless survival gear or costumes.

An acquaintance shared with me a Google doc with her 200-some item list of supplies, saying that she ordered everything off Amazon, but it was too late for that. Instead, I made the rounds between Target, Home Depot, and Walmart to cover a host of items, including goggles (night vision and regular), LED lights, cold-weather gear and boots (to protect against the alkaline dust).

“Will this bike work?” asked my friend Ian, who looked oversized sitting on a small pink child’s bike underneath the florescent lights at Target near the outskirts of the city. At around $100, it was the cheapest option to take to Black Rock City, so I went with it, trying to be practical—though it didn’t last long on the playa. When I finally reached the cash register, my card declined three times; a US Bank representative told me that racking up such a high bill at a Las Vegas Target qualified as unusual activity.

Walking through the store aisles, I was simultaneously on the phone with the person who might be subleasing my Encino apartment for the year. Worried that the cost of Burning Man might make my bank account go negative, I asked her, “Is there any way you could wire the security deposit this week?”

Thankfully she did.

Planes, trains and automobiles

I was determined make it to Black Rock City, and there was no turning back.


I contemplated flying to Reno and renting a car alone (which easily would have doubled my budget), and even asked an acquaintance if I could helicopter in with him and a friend, but they didn’t have room. I finally sent a mass email out to some downtown Las Vegas residents, but no one responded. To no avail, I joined a Las Vegas Burning Man Group on Facebook, and landed a ride with two strangers nearly hours before they were leaving. I quickly went to the nearest Bank of America to wire them transportation costs and secure my place. It felt like the equivalent of modern-day hitchhiking.

If finding a ride was a feat in itself, so was finding a camp. Earlier that summer a Silicon Valley entrepreneur alluded to finding one for me, but in the final days before the event, all of his friends’ camps were full. Through a Burning Man meet-up event at the GoldSpike, I met the owner of a Las Vegas entertainment company, who graciously invited me to join his group. Dues to join the camp were only around $150 plus two bottles of hard alcohol—quite reasonable by most standards—and the base volunteer requirement was taking on shifts pouring drinks for revelers to attract them to the camp’s 24/7 sound stage. Several of my camp mates worked on the Last Vegas Strip as DJs, burlesque dancers and promoters, and Burning Man was just an extension of their daily lives.

So much for showers

Soon after arriving, I discovered that three things I usually take for granted would become luxuries on the playa: bathing, sleeping, and eating regular food. The shower at my camp — a makeshift pulley system built on a wooden structure and encapsulated in blue tarp—broke early on, so I gave up on traditional showers for the rest of the week. Because our camp was located just off the Esplanade, the road closest to the center of all activity, music from the art cars waxed and waned throughout the night, making it difficult to fall asleep at any hour. During the day, I learned, it was simply too hot to sleep inside a tent under the desert sun (I also noted that next time I’d bring a battery-powered fan).

Longtime burners had told me that “you can find anything you need” on the playa, and while in some respects that’s truer in Black Rock City than anywhere else, some things were elusive. There was one occasion where I decided to search for fresh fruit, only to look up and see a young man carrying a crate of oranges, but that was the exception. Mostly I lived off of Cliff bars and water, and when I received a dinner invitation to another camp one evening, I gladly accepted.

With the camp’s address written on my arm (there is no Internet or cell phone service on most of the playa), I walked into a space that was cordoned off by air-conditioned luxury RVs. A woman with a clipboard stood at the entrance of the dining tent, checking off names for the chef-prepared meals, and stopped me before I could go any further. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Your name isn’t on the list.” Instead, a friend brought out a bag of Cheeze-Its and a soda from the refreshment table, and we stood outside until dinner was over.
Earlier that day, I had ventured to the edge of the deep playa.

Surrounded by miles of white dust and looking over the hazy horizon, an eerie silence filled the air, with the temporary city far off in the distance. That’s a place I’d like to visit again, but unfortunately not this summer— it’s too expensive.

Here's some awesome photos from the festival:






























Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Emmys? Fugedaboudit!

Okay, so where am I?

So Monday night the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences handed out their beautiful statues at the Nokia Theatre. As always, the Emmys were a snore-filled snooze fest , but luckily there was a brightly shining stoned star who guided us safely through that never-ending mess. (**-more on that in a minute.) 

See more on the Media Guy's Instagram.
Of course I was late (when am I not?) sheesh! I didn't have a tux, despite the fact there were tuxedo fittings (gratis) But sometimes you just say fugedaboudit, I’m wearing whatever passes for dapper like grey slacks, a short grey tie (new invention), Prada shoes, and a tux jacket with weird seams that make it look like I’m a reflection in a carnival mirror, and if I have time, I’ll finger-comb some dusty defining paste through my hair in the limo, because YOLO. Or whatever the acronym for “zero effort, I’m only here for the gin and tonic and free cigars from the gift suite” is...

Oh how I love the red carpet, Haute Couture and modified tuxedos. I've been nominated twice but thus far unlucky with the golden envelope.

My excuse is that all the same people keep winning.

Low and behold, the 66th Emmys were almost all carbon copies of past years. That's the problem with the Emmys--they are the only one of the Big Four (Oscars, Emmys, Grammys, Tonys) that have the option to continually nominate the same people for the same body of work. Regardless, the Emmys are THE status symbol for creatives and television actors alike for they are the Mount Everest of TV awards. A Media Guy can dream right?

Hamm: Close but no cigar :(
The awards also represent something tangible network presidents can present to their board of directors and stockholders and sales departments to use as a tool to get more money out of advertisers. In a word, it is validation. Yet while the Emmys have shown a willingness to accept new forms of entertainment, voters still aren't quite ready to reward them…which is going to have a unique effect on big media's bottom line.

Take Netflix, for example. While Hulu, Amazon and others maintain a larger streaming presence overall only Netflix has really gotten a seat at the awards table so to speak. Yet for some reason, despite Netflix's success in breaking through with nominations, its programming can't take the big prize and that's an area the traditional networks still hold a huge advantage in.

** - Spoke with my buddy Allison at dlisted.com and I nearly split a gut with her take on Sarah Silverman...

For those of you looking at the toes poking out of the bottom of Sarah Silverman’s dress and wondering “Did that crazy go barefoot?”, the answer is yes, that crazy B went barefoot. Okay sure, she might not actually be barefoot; she could be wearing a pair of JJ Casuals. But since it’s human cloud of weed smoke Sarah Silverman we’re talking about, it’s probably safest to assume she’s barefoot.

Silverman: Do you want to build a snowman?
The second Sarah Silverman arrived, I knew everything was going to be alright. First she sashayed onto the red carpet looking like a sedated avocado with her breasts out, which is always the look. Then she got freaked out by a talking blonde grasshopper (Giuliana Rancic) and forgot how a microphone works. Then she started fighting with the grasshopper while trying to fix her breasts, at which point, Rancic opened her gold clutch to explain what she brought with her to the Emmys (good idea, distract the stoner with something shiny) and inside it was a vape full of liquid pot. Sorry, did I say full? I mean about 1/3 full, since she clearly inhaled most of it on the way to the Emmys.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the last we saw of a high-as-hell Sarah Silverman. She came back a little while later when she won the award for Outstanding Writing for a Variety Special, which she accepted by running to the stage barefoot, leaping up the stairs like Stoned Jesus, rambling about space and molecules, and thanking her boyfriend “Mr. Fancy Pants Sheen” (Michael Sheen). Afterwards in the press room, some adorable innocent naive cherub asked Sarah if had smoked weed before the show (aw, stay sweet, you). She answered that she likes to “have a puff as a treat, at appropriate times” (which I guess is the “Bitch, I might be” for more formal occasions), but really, did she even need to answer?

She was barefoot! That’s all the answer you need.

Yet I digress.

Really I didn't sit there wondering about all of this. I was trying to hold my man crush for Mad Men star Jon Hamm in check. Really, the Academy needs to get their act together. No only do they "owe" me a golden lady statue, but they owe Don Draper one too! Jon Hamm, best actor for "Mad Men." Academy voters have one more year to make this right. We know where they live you know.

...But that's another story for another day...

Double the fun: Anna Gunn and Debra Messing (click to enlarge)
Hi Julia! (click to enlarge)
Ah Sofia... (click to enlarge)

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Bai Ling: Ice Queen

I remember hanging with Bai Ling as her "handler" at some random beauty pageant. For more on that, you'll have to buy the book (that is, if I ever finish it!)...


...as a handler, I knew she was a handful...
So, just when you were starting to think that the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge hit peak fame and had officially gone from the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge to the Ay! Look At Me Ice Bucket Challenge, the intergalactic space flower Bai Ling has taken it to new levels of MESS.

What do you think?

The delicate and demure sphinx cat who mutated into an alien when a flaming asteroid hit it many years ago was challenged by her overlord E.T. (at least I think that’s what she said) and she did the challenge on the beach in Santa Monica, CA in front of the paps she called while wearing a white tank midriff SANS bikini top. Because nothing brings awareness to ALS like Bai Ling’s gigantic, wet baby pacifier nipples. If it rains in L.A. today, it’s from Lou Gehrig crying out buckets of tears, because he’s so moved and touched by Bai Ling’s act of charity for ALS.

Before and after the challenge, Bai did a sexy, bikini photo shoot (because DUH) and she also wrote about it on Facebook and compared it to Chinese Water Torture:
Cookie: Lets take the challenge in life, no matter what it will be. Even if it is a water torture like the I had. Cause the experience will add something in your spirit.
Chinese Water Torture? Hmmmmm...maybe she would know...




Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Robin Williams R.I.P.

It's been a rough year - Casey Kasem, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Lauren Bacall and Robin Williams...
He was a brilliant actor and comedian who could go from light to dark in the blink of an eye. It's the kind of thing that you wish you could do in meetings or at networking parties.

Apparently the darkness took over, as Williams was found dead from an apparent suicide at noon on Monday. He was 63.

Williams touched every generation and demographic, making his entrance in a 1970s comic generation with Steve Martin, John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd and Billy Crystal.

Williams went on to become the alien Mork from Ork in his breakout hit '70s sitcom. He was also the voice of the genie in "Aladdin" and a hyper disc jockey in "Good Morning Vietnam." In "Mrs. Doubtfire," he played a dad who dressed as a woman to see his kids, and in "Birdcage," he played a gay man. He was an English teacher in "Dead Poets Society," a scientist in "Awakenings" and a prisoner of war in "Jakob the Liar."

But it was on a stage, in front of the lights, where Williams shined most brightly. The riffs, tangents and impersonations came rushing at the audience, a seemingly endless torrent.

"You get the feedback," Williams said in a 2007 interview. "There's an energy. It's live theater. That's why I think actors like that. You know, musicians need it, comedians definitely need it. It doesn't matter what size and what club, whether it's 30 people in the club or 2,000 in a hall or a theater. It's live, it's symbiotic, you need it."

On a television talk show, hosts knew Williams barely needed to be wound up. Sometimes, he needed only an audience of one: Williams visited Christopher Reeve a week after the actor's horseback riding accident, dressed in scrubs with a surgical mask and speaking in a Russian accent.

The roles became less prominent as he aged and a different generation took the spotlight. Last year, CBS cast him as the star of a sitcom, "The Crazy Ones," in which Williams played the colorful elder statesman at a Chicago ad agency. The network had high hopes for the comedy, which also starred Sarah Michelle Gellar, but they quickly faded and the show was cancelled after one season.

The failure of the show, coupled with the failure of the independent film “The Angriest Man in Brooklyn” this year sent Williams into an emotional funk, sources told FOX411. But darkness was nothing new to him. It was no secret that the Oscar-winning actor had suffered for years from periodic bouts of substance abuse and depression -- he made references to it himself in his comedy routines.

Williams joked about one fall off the wagon during a comedy tour, saying, "I went to rehab in wine country to keep my options open."

Williams (center) with Matt Damon (l) and Ben Affleck (r)
During an interview with comedian Marc Maron in 2010, Williams seemingly dismissed what would be a career highlight for many actors. "People say you're an Academy Award winner," he said. "The Academy Award lasted about a week and then one week later, people went, 'Hey Mork!"'

Word that he had likely killed himself Monday at his San Francisco Bay Area home left friends in the Hollywood community grief-stricken.

"Robin was a lightning storm of comic genius and our laughter was the thunder that sustained him. He was a pal and I can't believe he's gone," said director Steven Spielberg.

His good friend, the comedian Steve Martin, took to Twitter to express his condolences. "I could not be more stunned by the loss of Robin Williams, mensch, great talent, acting partner, genuine soul," he wrote.

Former “Tonight Show” host Jay Leno also looked back. "I saw him on stage the very first time he auditioned at the Improv and we have been friends ever since,” Leno said. “It's a very sad day."

Williams’ “Mork” co-star Pam Dawber was stunned.

"I am completely and totally devastated," Dawber said in a statement. "What more can be said?"

Monday, August 4, 2014

Penang: The Virgin Paradise

There’s something cooking in Malaysia’s virgin paradise, better known as Penang Island. 

Start with Kek Lok Si Buddhist Temple and never look back.
As a matter of fact, eating is the single topic on everyone’s tongue from the minute you hit the beautiful tropical island. Despite its British roots—under British rule since its sultan gave it up in 1786 in exchange for protection against his Siamese enemies—Penang produces a bevy of culinary delights. Locals have been crafting char koay teow (stir-fried rice noodles), nasi kandar (biryani rice with naughtily spicy curries) and congee (milky rice porridge) since then, blending in Western flavors for unique delicacies now native to only Malaysia. To find out what the buzz is about, stroll into Chinatown in Georgetown, the capital of Penang state, f or a taste and a tour of the eclectic blends of spice and rice. But satisfying your taste buds isn’t the only thing on this island’s menu.

Interwoven between the cafés and coffee shops are amazing combinations of cultures, Buddhist temples and shopping that make for a fascinating side trip. Here nearly everything you can imagine is available for sale in what amounts to a negotiator’s dream: traditional lanterns, vintage British cigarette lighters, joss-sticks, Malay jewelry and local artisan crafts. And, no, you won’t find any of the opium that was once traded with India and China when this was a burgeoning port town in previous centuries. But you will find some soothing Malay teas and a friendly smile at every stop.

All that's missing is the South Beach "talent."
Remember to bring an umbrella, usually supplied by your hotel, as two-inch downpours can happen at a clap of thunder.

SLEEP: Flamingo Hotel by the Beach
Enjoy alfresco delights and a sweet Malay martini while dining in the oceanfront beach bar of this simplistic, yet oddly elegant hotel, just steps from the heart of Georgetown. www.penang.flamingo.com.my


Malaysian river prawns vs. Louisiana craw fish: you make the call!
TASTE: Fresh River Prawns
Sneak away to the Khaleel Restaurant on Jalan Penang Street, the preeminent 24/7 Mamak (Tamil Muslim) eatery near the corner of touristy Lebuh Chulia. Don’t miss the fresh river prawns to satisfy your yearning for this delicacy and all other things crustacean.

EXPLORE: Trishaws
Georgetown’s garish rickshaws or “trishaws,” as they are commonly known, are the best way to see the town as drivers pedal their passengers around in outlandishly garish vehicles. If you tip an extra dollar, they might change the bad karaoke, playing full blast on their hi-fi stereo systems.

RELAX: Spicy Garden
Most people don’t understand the importance of spices. At one time, the spice trade made merchants across the globe untold fortunes. They preserved meat and were the key ingredients in perfume making and embalming the dead. They were more valuable than gold. All told, they established immense empires, tipping the balance of world power at the dawn of the seventeenth century.

Closest thing to the Garden of Eden you'll ever find.
Tucked away behind Teluk Bahang, the fishing village on the north western tip of Penang, in an eight-acre valley, lies the Tropical Spice Garden. This sumptuous example of nature conservation is all that remains of the resources that fueled Penang’s once booming trade. After one visit there, you get the picture perfect introduction to the plethora of spices—over 500 local and introduced varieties—that made Southeast Asia rich and famous.

This bewitching jewel of a garden, established on an abandoned rubber plantation, opened in 2003 and, we’re told, never fails to amaze. The minute you stride up to the conservatory, your senses are treated to savory treats as a gust of flavors wafts over you.

The walking guided tour—one of the finest this side of a docent visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art—meticulously takes you across three garden experiences:

  • The Spice Trail with its 100 herbs and spices.
  • The Ornamental Trail, highlighting never seen (by me, at least) palms, flora, gingers and ferns.
  • The Jungle Trail, replete with wild orchids and other jungle species stretched across an elevated pathway.

This isn’t your typical hands-off walk around a national park. The English-speaking guide goes into great detail about the trees and plants, often plucking a leaf and rubbing a seed pod on your wrist to allow you to smell the sweet aromas. He will even direct you to a lily pond, where you can dip your feet for a brief respite to the often oppressive Malaysian humidity. There, the guppies nibble your toes as part of your organic pedi-spa treatment.

The highlight is when you reach the on-site Tree Monkey Restaurant, serving Asian fare prepared with many of the garden's own spices. The views overlooking the South China Sea and daunting rain forest is enchanting. As are the restaurant’s sticky rice, tom yum seafood soup and onion omelets.

Daily Admission with tour is approximately $8 USD. There are cooking classes too, but call ahead to make sure they are staffed for the day.

A trip to the Tropical Spice Garden is almost worth the 25 hours of flying from Los Angeles through Japan to Kuala Lumpur, plus a quick flight to Penang.

Trishaws of Penang (above and below)


...the beer is pretty good too...
...and there is plenty of monkey business too!