Most people who knew Gabriel Hammond at Johns Hopkins in the late 1990s could have predicted he would rise quickly on Wall Street. As a freshman, he traded stocks from his dorm room, making a $1,000 bet on Caterpillar. Soon after, he abandoned his childhood dream of becoming a lawyer and, upon graduation, joined Goldman Sachs as a stock analyst.Three years into his new job, Mr. Hammond noticed something. Very few of his young co-workers were taking a hiatus from Wall Street to go to business school, long considered an essential rung on the way to the top of the corporate ladder.
So he, too, decided to forgo an M.B.A.. Instead, he raised $5 million and started his own hedge fund, Alerian Capital Management, in 2004. The fund now manages $300 million out of offices in New York and Dallas, and Mr. Hammond, 28, enjoys seven-figure payouts.
Like other young people on the fast track, Mr. Hammond has run the numbers and figures that an M.B.A. is a waste of money and time - time that could be spent making money. “There’s no way that I would consider it,” he says.
So begins a recent New York Times article, “Bye Bye, B-School”, which addresses the current state of business schools, long seen as the key gateway to successful careers on Wall Street and beyond. Costs of attending school are up, attending is as competitive as ever…but is B school worth it?
The fact is, as the article points out, B school is increasingly losing its cache. The fast paced world of business today no longer grants the luxury of taking two years off and losing industry experience, nor is what is taught in the schools necessarily valued by employers.
“If you want to make the most money in the shortest period of time, you can’t be away from work for two years,” says Vitaly Dukhon, 30, who recently left the Fortress Investment Group in New York to join another hedge fund.
While in college at Harvard, Mr. Dukhon thought he would go to business school in his mid-20s, but in his first job on the Treasury desk at Deutsche Bank, he realized that the smartest people just a few years his senior were staying put. “I saw that people that had been working for 20 years did have M.B.A.’s, but people five to six years older than me were not going,” he says. “Going to business school is a way for people to try to open the door, to try to get into a company or hedge fund. But if you’re already there, it doesn’t make sense to go.”
Mr. Hammond of Alerian noticed the same trend while he was an analyst at Goldman Sachs. His co-workers who went to business school either wanted to change careers, or they were not doing well in their current jobs, he says.
In other words, business school is a place to change careers, not enhance them. This is a sobering message being sent out to elite insitututions that pride themselves on on their influence. But both recruiters and even the professors themselves are claiming that the primary mission of the schools, education, is too often passed over for the goal of placing those few in lucrative career fields:
Next month, Prof. Khurana of Harvard is publishing a critique of business schools’ evolution over the past 50 years. His book, “From Higher Aims to Hired Hands,” argues that famous B-schools, including Harvard, have lost track of their original mission to produce far-sighted leaders who can help the economy run better….”The logic of stewardship has disappeared,” he says. Panoramic, long-term thinking has given way to an almost grotesque obsession with maximizing shareholder value over increasingly brief spans.
As a result, he declares, getting an advanced degree in business no longer amounts to entry into a full-fledged profession, like law or medicine. It’s just a badge that lets graduates latch onto situations where they can jostle the actual managers of companies and make a lot of money for themselves in the process.
For his part, Prof. Khurana would like to see business schools take much more aggressive steps to mend their ways. He is impressed by the ways that law and medical schools certify graduates’ knowledge and require lifelong continuing education. Perhaps business schools should do something similar, he suggests.
Yet Prof. Khurana has identified an important imbalance. In the current environment, many brilliant young M.B.A.s don’t aspire to be corporate chief executive officers, who struggle to uphold their agendas against pressure from all sides. These students would rather be consultants who earn big money fomenting change. Better yet, they want to be the powerful investors who hire and fire CEOs.
Until those dynamics change, it will be hard for top business schools to resume their traditional - and vital - role as training grounds for the next generation of corporate leaders.
This is reiterated by a recent WSJ report on recruiter’s picks for business schools. University of Michigan’s Business School, Ross, fell from the number one ranking in recruiters’ eyes. Why? Students had too much a sense of entitlement versus experience and education, they say. It seems as if the schools are building up expecations, rather than provide industry ready graduates. In the New York Times article, one student from Tepper is hired upon receiving his MBA - not because of his degree, but his computer background from his previous years of study and work.
The one value business schools unequivocally offer is a network of graduates who are established in their fields and can provide meaningful connections for entry. However, as the NYT article pointed out above, this point is mute if the candidate already should have proven themselves in their field, and truly is most helpful to those who truly have reverted from one career path to the other.
Two personal experiences shed light on the MBA for me.
I attended a MBA session attended by representatives by all the major B school players (Stanford, MIT, Penn, etc.) several months ago. It was a crowded room, with many eager 20 somethings looking for hints on getting in and how to differentiate the different schools. My question for the day was, “How come B Schools universally claim to develop great leaders, when in fact 90% of those I personally know attending are only going because their 80 hr week jobs require them to after 2 years?” Their answer, in effect, was: “If you don’t have extracurriculars to put in your leadership section, that’s fine. We can’t expect you to do a lot if you are working a busy job.” So…those earning high pay, whose jobs sponsor their MBA, and are mostly lackeys for their high finance bosses, get a pass at this? I suppose it is hard for them to do different, but in truth I feel this is one reason why many entrepreneurs and movers and shakers don’t come out of Wharton - B School can be very self selective in this way. On the other hand, the B Schools were desperate for career changers as well, maybe because of the discussed trend, noting that GREs are as acceptable as GMATs. One attendee asked what distinguished each program from the next, which absolutely killed the panel. They didn’t want to bash the other schools, and didn’t want to claim their superiority in one field at risk of demoting another. Most pandered and said the people. Someone else asked why the shoudn’t just go to Europe, and in a global world, why they should stay in the U.S. .The answer here was that schools were creating global campuses…but really, this is not the same thing, just playing catch up, and may be another way to score dough from those MBA bound. This left me with the conclusion that business schools, unlike undergraduate studies, may attract certin individuals, but don’t create great businessmen. More Fortune 500 CEOs come from state schools than anywhere else, those that were in high finance are back after a mandatory MBA, and those looking to enter business may just end up with a more advanced network depending how high up the B school ladder they go. But come recruiting time, great leaders will have been great leaders before B school, and quant whizzes could probably have saved themselves two years.
I once interviewed at a startup and ended up being passed over for someone with an MBA. Barely out of school, and I was seriously considered for the role. I lost out not because the other candidate had an MBA, because, as the CEO said, “those mean nothing these days,” but because the other person had startup experience.
Nevertheless, I admit B School will still be seen as a requirement in certain industries, and for this reason for the foreseeable future they will still be holding the cards in their hand. My brother, who started his own successful company abroad and has never been to B school, found a position at qualification-obsessed Google only after he could convince them a high GMAT score taken years ago and excellent experience was just as good as any MBA. He was hired, but remains one of few without that extra certification. Even if Google covered the cost now, would it be worth it? The trend apparently says no.
Will I go to B school? Someday maybe, with a clear purpose. And I may richer for it, but certainly not much smarter.
It turns out our lives aren’t necessarily always dictated by our genes. Scientists are now discovering that the murky material inbetween our genes - non coding DNA, or ‘junk DNA’ - is in fact more vital than we ever realized.
Whereas many traits have been attributed to our genetic code, from diseases to our psychosis, research teams have determined that diabetes and even cancer stem from more than a muted gene. Instead, they result from processes occuring in these areas once referred to as genomic wastelands.
If this doesn’t make you believe we have only scratched the surface of human disovery, nothing will…
My coworkers and I frequently shared Metro stories with each other, because life is never boring on the Red and Orange lines during rush hour. That it is, until she moved close to the office, and I was the only one left with the strange Metro encounter stories.
Here is my most awkward commute ever, on the way back from work yesterday.
1) I enter into the Orange Line Metro car, and look around for a seat. The handicap seat is open, with a short but stocky man occupying the adjoining seat. I turn around to sit down, suddenly feeling a hand underneath my ass. It was the man next to me. I kinda of jumped up, and he too looked surprised. Apparently he was half asleep, not awake as it seemed, and while I assumed his hand, which was resting next to him, would be withdrawn as poeple were sitting down, he did not, resulting in a very uncomfortable situation.
2) As we are nearing Metro Center, the train slows down (as it, and every other Metro car, normally does). Yet some woman dressed in a power suit goes flying literally five yards down the aisle and lands in my lap. I was too stunned to react, but others helped her to her feet, but it took a while to get her up, as I could do little but have my body serve as a seat cushion for about ten seconds until the momentum of the train slowed.
3) Finally free of the Metro, I make my way home. Near the Soviet Safeway, a mom is walking with a kid ahead of her. The kid, barely higher than my knee, is running towards me down the sidewalk yelling with glee, and as he comes close to me, raises his left hand in the air. Confused, but certainly not wanting to leave him hanging, I stick out my left hand in a friendly manner to slap him high five.
The kid nears me, hand still raised, and runs smack into my hand.
With his face.
Fuck, I guess he wasn’t going for a high five…What the hell else was that? A sieg heil? The momentum from running into my hand wheels him to the side and knocks him down. I was staring ahead at this time still, walking forward, so I could see the mother’s reaction. She just had this look of utter shock on her face, as if I had just smit her firstborn. Which I might well have done, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. The kid seemed ok, and not wanting to make this more awkward than it was, continued on, The Killers playing in my IPod.
Tourist lady: Where’s the ladies’ room? Waiter: Top of the stairs on the left. Tourist lady: I was just up there. It’s not marked for ladies, so I was afraid to use it. Waiter: It’s a unisex. Tourist lady: Excuse me? Waiter: It’s for everyone. Men and women. Tourist lady: You’re all going to hell. Do you know that?
–Bar 89, Mercer St Girl: So, do you know anything about the Holocaust?
Roommate: Like what? Girl: I don’t know — like, fun facts or something?
–Dorm, Columbia Coworker #1: Is it just me, or are the rats in New York getting smaller? Seriously! Coworker #2: Maybe you’re just getting bigger.
–D train platform, Rockefeller Center Asian mom to child in stroller: You feel trapped? Well, so do I. Now you know how I feel.
–51st & 3rd JAP on cell: I mean, the one thing I hate more than communism is arts and crafts!
–NYU Yuppie to toddler sitting on friend’s lap: … And the benefit of wearing Nike clothing is that it’s made by children not much older than you.
–Central Park Teen: So, this one time I got kicked out of Barnes and Noble for moving all the Bibles to the ‘Fiction’ section…
–74th & Columbus Customer to cashier: Can I have a job application, please? Cashier to manager: I need a job application for this guy. Manager: Why in the hell would you want to work here? I’m trying to quit!
–McDonald’s, Queens College Woman on cell: I mean, my God — do I look like I’ve had children? Suit passerby: Yes.
–53rd & Lex Sketchy dude #1: So, what you do is you buy crack, and then you tell the cops where you got the crack, and then you get to keep the crack! Sketchy dude #2: And what’s that called again? Sketchy dude #1: Court informer. Sketchy dude #2: Yeah, court informer. I’m gonna be that!
–A train Office woman: So, what is Matt up to these days? Delivery man: He just got a job as a fudge packer. Office woman: Oh, that sounds exciting! Tell him I said hello!
–23rd & Park Hobo yelling to college couple: Hey, bro! Hit that pussy tonight, bro! Another male passerby: Yeah — better do what the man says!
–114th & Broadway Lawyer at deposition: What is your native language? West Indian woman, offended: English! Lawyer: Lady, you must speak some other language, because I’ve been questioning you for an hour and I haven’t understood a goddamn word you said.
–Supreme Court, 360 Adams St, Brooklyn Chick #1 on cell: I mean, have you ever shaved your pussy and then a couple of nights later you can’t sleep because it itches so bad? Chick #2: Um, hello, we can all hear you. Chick #1 to #2: Well, has it ever happened to you? Chick #2: Well, yeah, but I don’t tell the whole subway.
–F train Guy #1: I’ve been playing the guitar for years. Guy #2: You play guitar like Bette Midler has sex. Guy #1: Fuck you.
–86th & Lex platform 45-year-old man: … And since I’m on my way to a business meeting, this drink I just bought you is tax deductible. College girl: Well, that’s nice, I guess. 45-year-old man: Yeah, you’ve got a big butt and you’re tax deductible. That’s how I like them.
–Coffee Shop Bar, 14th St Smoker chick: I lose lighters like I lose men.
–Central Park
Boy staring at dinosaur fossil: Dude, these animals died a lot. Friend: Word.
–Museum of Natural History Hipster girl #1: I was blowing him and it was taking, like, 20 minutes, so I finally told him to hurry up since my jaw was hurting. Hipster girl #2: I hate that! How can they take that long to just finish?
Suit nearby: If you would do it right, it would only take two minutes.
–2 train Hoochie #1: Wait, he has a kid? Hoochie #2: Yeah! Crazy, right? Hoochie #1: So, are you going to be a step-mommy? Hoochie #2: No, no, no… Not a step-mommy. I’m the slutty, hot, 25-year-old that fucks Daddy.
–Astor Pl Chick: So, today I went to the doctor, and in the waiting room there was this gay guy who told me he liked my Steve Maddens. [Three guys across from her stare blankly.] Oh my god, I’m eating dinner with three straight men.
–Restaurant, 6th Ave Woman passerby: Come on, you fucking tourists! Get a life! It’s only a fucking cupcake! Girl in line, mockingly: Oh my god, you’re making such an important social statement! Old lady in line: Seriously, it’s not our fault she’s a fat bitch.
–Magnolia Bakery, Bleecker St D.A.R.E. volunteer: Sir, before you leave, would you please– Rushing guy, interrupting: –Do I look like I just say no to drugs? D.A.R.E. volunteer: We don’t pre-judge people.
–Outside Marshalls, Atlantic Center, Brooklyn Chick #1: Hey, you ever been with a guy and then his mom calls, and he, like, picks up? Chick #2: You mean during sex?! Chick #1: Yeah. Chick #2: Hell no! Chick #1: So, you’ve never been with a Jewish guy, then? Girl #1: So, now I’m going to need a new roommate, I think. Girl #2: Wait… Let me get this straight — you walk in, she’s on the bed, nude, rolling around on a bunch of pearls? Girl #1: Yeah. Our jewelry had just arrived from ShangBy, and I guess she got excited… Want a pearl necklace?
–58th & 5th Girl #1: Are any of our friends not in therapy? Girl #2: Yeah, Jeanie isn’t. Girl #1: But that’s ’cause she can’t afford it. Girl #3: Jeanie’s not rich? Girl #1: No.
–Cupcake Café, 9th Ave Hobo: Hey, kids, read a book, stay in school, and don’t do drugs! Woman: Come on, kids, don’t talk to strange, crazy people. What did I tell you about that?! [To hobo, who looks insulted] It’s nothing personal — I just don’t want them to, like, get kidnapped or something, you know? Hobo: Oh… Oh, um, yeah, I understand… [When woman's out of earshot] Bitch.
Sorting through the maze that is the internet can be quite daunting, and every so often tools pop up that make finding the latest news, videos, or articles that much easier. So I was very grateful to discover Popurls, which is a great central hub and dashboard for what is moving the internet at any given moment. I definitely recommend checking it out…
My brother, who works at Google, organized an Ultimate Frisbee game against Facebook several weeks ago, and Google proceeded to lose. This prompted Facebook to leak this information out to Valleywag, the irreverant blog of Silicon Valley gossip, who wrote the story up under the heading, “Facebook Delivers Ultimate Humiliation to Google“, and in which one girl claims that they are looking to hire geat engineers and asks others to include Frisbee skills on their resumes. I don’t think this went over so well back on the Google Campus, especially since founder Sergey Brin has been known to disc it. But I also think they were pissed that a friendly game turned into a marketing opportunity (I wonder if they would have done the same?)
Well, another match was set up for last Tuesday, and since I needed to pick my brother up to go to my other’s brother’s house for dinner, and I would have to wait anyway there for him to finish playing, he suggested that me and my twin join in, especially as some main people were out for Google. So I picked him and several Googler’s up from Campus and headed to the Stanford fields, where the game was taking place. The Googlers had three times as many people show up, but Facebook’s best players were a lot better, including several who played for Stanford and club teams in the area. So the depth didn’t really help at all, as their best players remained on the field. It was a fun game though, and even though my twin and I were rarely on the field at the same time and hardly effected the outcome (guarding good players without wearing cleats is near impossible) we gelled toward the end, and lost 15-12 (hey, 1 pt improvement!). We then started playing a mixed game, but it got dark out - regrettably, since I think this would have been fun. It was cool to meet some people from both companies, although I realized that it is a very homogenous group, with the majority coming from MIT, Stanford, and Harvard.
It turns out that this game was written up in Valleywag again, under the headline, “Facebook Repeats Google’s Ultimate Humiliation“. I guess this would suck if anyone other than myself read this blog. I am even mentioned, “…some believe the Googlers may have brought on ringers who don’t actually work for the company.” It’s too bad we didn’t win the game, otherwise I may have been a better “ringer”. They must have been ok with it at the start, beacuse clearly all three brothers did not work at Google at the same time - any such company would not make it though the week. I suggest Sergey cleat up next time, as well as if some who couldn’t make it get some extra motivation to spank Facebook next time.
Either that or I will have to add my resume to the pile at Google. Sergey, I could really help you perfect that crossfield hammer…
It’s weird, once you get used to writing and reading each day, even a short break can make you feel strangely disconnected. I know others out there blog from their vacations, but I literally was in the middle of nowhere…the desert that is Blackrock City, Nevada.
Yes, I was at the Burning Man Festival, 21st edition. For all those Easterners, this will mean very little, or as one friend IM’ed me:
Friend: YOU HIPPIE POTHEAD
Friend: (OK, secretly cool…)
Which kinda sums up the general reaction of those who have heard of it before. In fact, apparently most of my friends had heard of the festival through the show RENO 911, in which they go undercover and then get pulled over by the police who think they are smuggling drugs. Here is the only clip I could find.
As the clip suggests, it’s a festival of “self reliance and self expression” and yes, crazy costumes (though maybe not Lt. Dangle crazy…) But really, this doesn’t begin to describe it, and all preconceptions go out the window once you are actually there.
I was invited by my older brother, who is living in San Francisco, and went last year for the first time, and insisted that me and my twin bro go. I had seen a few photos from his trip, but it was difficult to tell what exactly this festival was about. I knew it had a “liberal”, or “hippie” as people here tend to call it, vibe and that I should be prepared for this. I’m pretty open minded, and this didn’t scare me off. So a couple of weeks ago I received a list from my brother of supplies for the trip, ranging from funky costumes to camel baks, and flew out to Oakland.
On my stopover in Dallas I was halfpaying attention to a CNN screen in front of me in the waiting area while finally reading The World Is Flat when I heard “Burning Man” mentioned. I looked up and found out that 1) yes, CNN does cover this perhaps not so alternative festival and 2) the Green Man, the wooden man sculpture to be burned on Saturday night, had prematurely been set ablaze by an arsonist. Here was the mug shot:
What? I hadn’t even reached the festival and the Man already burned? And by this dude nonetheless (although I admit that mug shot is classic). However, the anchor reported that a small, modified version of the Man would be built in time for the weekend. But apparently I missed a lunar eclipse as well as the actual Burning already.
(Incidentally, the arsonist was bailed out by his friend and at the festival on Saturday, signed autographs. Rumors persist it was an inside job (I have doubts) and a reaction against the corporate nature the festival has taken on as its popularity has increased (although in the video he released on Sunday he goes off on an Iraq tangent, which probably is more to garner sympathy than anything else). He does seem a bit, uh, not all there.)
My flight to California was led by a very interested pilot, who took us over Four Corners, Lake Powell, Grand Canyon, Zion, Canyonlands, and Bryce Canyon, plus a desert I can’t remember the name of. I had been to all these places in my childhood, so it was fascinating to see them from above. I snapped some cool pictures as well, and included them in my photos…
It was after arriving in the wonderful city of Oakland that I experienced many firsts, from renting my first car (being under 25 is expensive!), and visiting my first Wal-Mart (it was inevitable). Wal Mart does, in fact, have everything one would ever need, and to add to the convenience it was right next to the airport, so I could buy the brunt of supplies while waiting for my brother’s flight to land. I stocked up with everything from flashlights to Cup-of-Soup, and, since apparently my last line of defense in the desert is wet wipes, made sure to buy plenty of those. I tried to find the guns a la “Bowling for Columbine” but somewhat disappointingly there weren’t any, only a couple of paintball guns behind a counter. So I headed to checkout with my cart full of goodies, and unloaded a weeks worth of food and camping supplies.
The lady scanning my items, a heavy set black woman, stared at me quizzically,then asked, “You goin’ to that Burnin’ Man thing?”
“Um, actually…yeah.”
“Aw, I knew it…someone else just came through here.”
“Oh, really?” I laughed.
“That’s in the desert right? Where is it?”
“Uh, north of Reno, I think.”
“That’s crazy…They have drugs over there?”
“Well…I guess so. I mean, that’s what I hear.” Is this my mother? or a sting operation?
Suddenly interested, pressing: “Like what? They got shrooms? ecstasy?…”
“Uh, well… think of it like the Wal-Mart of drugs. You can probably find anything.” And I left it at that.
So that was my first Wal-Mart experience, although not my last of the day. My older brother called as I left and insisted I go back and get a Wal-Mart bike, so I returned once more, and after a very animated employee brought me and a young couple to the back of the warehouse to check out the bikes, and clearly checking the spoken for girl out, and deciding my brother would not go for the pastel blue and pink girl’s bike, I was told to go the next Wal-Mart..two exits down the highway. Which basically resulted in me getting lost in Alameda for a bit, finally getting a $70 bike at the other Wal-Mart, and then fighting through rush hour to make it to Russian Hill.
We packed up and headed up to Gerlach, Nevada the next morning. Somewhere north of Sacramento, my older brother realized that he left the tickets for Burning Man at home. So…we drove all the way back, got the tickets, got stuck in traffic, and five hours after leaving that morning, were barely 100 miles out of the city. We stopped off to load up for water (2.5 gallons per day is needed to brave the desert) made it to Reno around 9, and had quick meal at Jack-In-The Box (where is an In-N-Out-Burger when you need it? Their logo is a bit scary…)
We pulled off of 80 and headed towards a two lane road, which provides the only access to Gerlach and the festival site. The locals must hate the traffic, even though I imagine it brings in a lot of revenue, as the speed signs went from 65 to 45 to 25 to 45 to 15 all within a couple of hundred yards, which just confused the shit out of me, as tired as I was. Plus they had police hidden shortly after each sign, and even after I just decided to fuck it and go 5 mph they flashed their sirens at me.
Reaching the camps at night for the first time was a bit of a surreal experience, as Burning Man is such a distinct community in itself. We made our way through a maze of people on bikes, wearing costumes and florescent lighting, and found our camp, Mystical Mysfits. We parked our van and set up our tent (another first - this is some sheltered life I’ve led) behind an RV to maximize shade (it gets really bright out early morning). As soon as we had pitched the tent, we headed out for the night, exhausted but eager to see what the playa held for us.
The first thing I noticed was just how lit up the playa is at night. Not only are people generally decking out their bikes with lights, but lasers shot out from camps, and fire roared from corners of the desert I could barely see.
We hopped into an art car, which is essentially cars pimped out to the extreme in the most creative ways possible, usually blasting music from three foot speakers and drinks aplenty inside. This particular car was a converted bus, with a bar in the back. We were checking out the landscape as we drove across the desert flat when I noticed my brother saluting someone. He was wearing some vintage army dress gear with a hat, so I suppose someone thought that was the appropriate salutation. But then I saw that he was beckoned over to the back, and next thing I know this good looking barmistress leans over the bar, wraps him up and makes out out with him for like 10 seconds. Everyone falls for a soldier. “Good costume choice,” I tell him when he rejoins us.
We got off once we reached the Deep End, where a lot of the partying takes place. The rest of the night we just wandered around, watching different performers and mingling. It was a bit overwhelming at first, and I felt as if I was crashing a party I was invited to but didn’t know anyone. But I gradually grew more comfortable, and despite being tired from the day of travelling, insisted on staying out to see the dawn break. As light crept across the sky and began to warm up the desert, I could make out the vast dimensions of the Playa, and realized how many people there were, noting scores of others still going strong. I snapped some pictures and headed off to our tent, hoping I could catch some sleep despite the sunlight that was already intense. Thankfully, exhaustion set in, and with the techno beats still reverberating across the Playa, I was lulled asleep.
Here is a picture taken by a fellow Burner of the layout of the Playa. The art sculptures, as well the Green Man, were in the center of the semi-circle, with Center Camp at the middle of the stretch of camps. So, 48,000 people in the desert, on a salt flat flanked by mountains, only to depart after a week and leave absolutely no trace whatsoever of their presence. Pretty remarkable, no matter how you look at it.
The Playa
People: I must admit that true Burners are their own breed, but I found there was a suprising diversity of participants. I saw families with children, teenagers, couples, tech gurus from Silicon Valley, artists, and entertainment industry professionals from LA…I even met someone who came all the way from Maine. Heck, Wall Streeters are now attending. My camp was made up of mostly L.A. people, and it does seem that the greatest number of Burners made the trek from L.A. I was expecting the Festival to have a very “East Coast Hippie” feel to it, but in face this was not the case. The large amount of L.A. Burners and artists gave the whole scene an attitude of creativity and having fun, rather than one driven by any social agenda, or the more apathetic, drug-infused scene of Amsterdam). It was also refreshing to meet such a group (although clearly self-selective) of people for the entire week who were clearly free of pretenses, self-confident, and generally very open to those around them. Coming from the East Coast, and from Georgetown especially, this was pretty unique, and definitely added to my experience. But most of all, the people at the Festival will be some of the most interesting, outgoing people you will ever meet. And don’t worry about trying to fit in - the important thing is to remain open minded to new experiences and those surrounding you. Who knows, even that witch doctor from L.A. whose card I have may come in hand.
One New Jersey girl, upon learning I was from Greenwich, mentioned that this was in fact one of the most exclusive communities - even more than cities like my hometown - one could be a member of. She remarked, “Think about it: How many people know about this festival? Are willing to give up a week to come out here? Brave the desert? Ignore what their parents or coworkers may think of them? Get out of their own comfort zone? And to not only be here, but be a participant?” and what she said was very true. It took a pretty unique confluence of factors to be standing next to her at that moment.
Counterculture: As mentioned above, I was initally expecting more of an agenda from those around me, but I think this is ambivalent at best. It is supposed to be anticapitalistic, but really, this is only true in that it takes place in the desert and there are no outside vendors. Also, thousands of people driving across the country in RVs is not good for the environment, nor can using gallons of fuel for the various burnings. This year they tried for a more proactive stance, naming the theme The Green Man, and including in a pavilion various environmental exhibits, and obviously some theme camps stressed environmentally sound practices, but otherwise any statements were relatively muted. As the festival becomes more corporate, it will be interesting to see which direction this will go.
Here is some charts detailing the carbon footprint at Burning Man:
(click to enlarge)
Center Camp: There is only one place where cash can be used, and that is at Center Camp. A large tent with colored banners, it is the prime stop for coffee, juice and water. Couches and tables are set up inside, and during the day people congregate to grab some shade, hang out, or check out what talents have contributed to the Burning Man exprience. Here are some things I noticed wandering through:
Poetry recitals
Music performances
Food samples from camps
Drumming
Massages
Body Painting
Tatttooing
A “Green Man” themed board game
Yoga
Art: Most of the main art sculptures are in the center of the playa. Each year, 30 artists are given grants to build various structures, ranging from the Temple to a manmade Treehouse. Most of the daytime is spent wandering the Playa and checking these out. The Temple in particular was the interesting for me. Constructed entirely of elabaorately latticed wood, it is burnt on the last day, Sunday, in a more subdued ceremony. Burners place notes to lost loved one, those ill, or any cause that is burden to them, and the burning of the Temple is a symbolic release from these. Also cool was two truck rigs sculpted together, which you could climb into:
I have to say the best burn was that of the Oil Rig, which took place after the burn of the Green Man. A fog machine set up a screen of mist for 20 minutes, obscuring the entire structure. Then, fireworks began to be go off, and the Oil Rig slowly came into view, as the fog lifted and lit by the fireworks. The fireworks were the best I had ever seen, expertly orchestrated and possessing great variety. Finally, the Rig was set on fire, the leaping flames quickly outling the kerosene laced structure. All of a sudden, a tremendous explosion occurred, resulting in a gigantic fireball whose heat singed my face (I was right up front, of course, clearly not expecting this), and caused me to look away and feel whether my camera survived the heat (thankfully, it did). Here is what it looked like:
Fun stuff: Exploring the camps and the playa can lead to all sorts of amusing discoveries. Sources of entertainment ranged from a mini golf course someone set up right in the middle of the desert, to a roller skating rink, to kareoke, to a basketball court, to a makeshift bowling alley, to movie screens, to band performances, to fire juggling, to break dancing lessons,to an extreme version of dance dance revolution, in which participants’ misktakes were rewarded by a shot of fire in their face (with a flame retardant suit of course!). Not to mention the Thunderdome, which is right out of Mad Max, where Burners can fight each other in the cagelike structure. At night, some of the most reknowned DJs in the world run parties that last until morning.
Nudity: Yes, there is some, especially during the hot desert day. In fact, I would say about 40% of the women were topless at any given moment (or at least it seemed that way). And some men are too, although this is much, much rarer. While this was a bit strange at first, I was surpised at how quickly I adapted and how normal this was. First of all, the extent of nudity is typical of any beach in Europe, and since during the day time the desert is reminescent of a beach, this made it seem a lot more natural. I understand Americans are very uptight about this, but really it isn’t (and shouldn’t) be such a big deal - if any family abroad can deal with it going to a local beach, so should we in the right circumstances. In addition, it’s not like this leads to some mardi gras or grand voyeristic atmosphere - in fact everyone is very cool about it, and the reasons for going topless are more about practicality and self expression than anything else. People may be into themselves in terms of getting what they want out of the Burning Man experience, but they are not the judging kind, and are extremely comfortable in their own skin (literally and figuratively). It felt strange to give something like this a second thought, and by the third day it just became part of the festival environment itself. As one Burner pointed out, “I am surrounded by beautiful half naked women, and all I can think about is getting enough water.” But I suppose there is little to complain about when those in question are fit West Coast girls…
Gifts: Burning Man runs on a bartering economy, or at least that was what I was told prior to arriving. However, it is more about giving fellow Burners unconditional gifts, whether that be alcohol, food, or other necessities. In many ways Burning Man is like a free amusement park: people put years of effort into each festival, and rarely get anything in return, but it is always good to be able to give something back to people you meet to enhance the experience.
Dust storms: “Be prepared for these,” was the stern warning I always heard before heading out. I carried with me a face mask and googles to protect my eyes, but thankfully we missed out on the biggest storm the day before we came. We were stuck in one on Friday, with reports of 65 mph winds coming from nearby Gerlach. We happened to be in an art car at the time, and decided to stay onboard. The art car, a converted bus, had to stop, as visibility was terrible, and we closed all the windows to protect ourselves and breathe easier. However, we found that up top, on the open end of the double decker bus, others were checking out the storm and still dancing to the music blaring from the speakers. Burners would emerge from the brown mist occasionally and prop their bike against the protected side of the bus, and essentially chilled with each other until the storm let up. It was actually much better up top rather than downstairs, as the dust tended to stay low on the ground, and I didn’t even need to use my mask or goggles, despite wearing contacts.
The best reward of the dust storm was the rainbow that appeared afterwards…oh wait, make that a double rainbow, the clearest one I had ever seen:
Drug use: Yes, it is there, but surprisingly discreet. Just walking around, it I saw very little open drug use, although I suspect that it may have surrounded me. I am not counting smoking pot, since invariably I would run into this, but ecstasy, shrooms, or even heavier drugs. I was offered absinthe though. At night you sometimes felt you were four drugs short of joing the rest of the party with certain crowds, but other times it seemed very constrained. I’ll repeat this, but Burning Man really is whatever you want it to be, and if drugs aren’t your thing, not doing them certainly doesn’t subtract from the experience.
Safety: This may be one of the safest festivals you will ever attend. 40,000 people for a week and only 60 citations, 90% of which are misdemeanor citations? Although there was an injury last year when someone got stabbed at the “Comfort and Joy” theme camp (oh, the irony!) and there was a death for the first time this year, as someone tragically hanged himself.
Telling Experience: We forgot to run the car each day, and wore out the battery evey time we retrieved our stuff. This was a rental car, so we were really concerned, and needed help starting it. At once we had a fellow Burner bring an extra 12V battery over, which of course he charged via solar power. However, it wasn’t starting the car, which made us even more anxious, as even the lights weren’t reacting. However, one Burner brought over a battery meter, told us we had a ridiculously low battery level of 3.2 V, and instructed us after bringing a car over to run the other car for five minutes to charge the battery up, then keep our foot on the acceleration for a good half hr. He came back later and the car was as good as new. He apologized he couldn’t be of help earlier since he was high (or on something). We thanked him and made sure he parted with some gifts. So there you have it, Burning Man virgins and your typical seasoned Burner rolled into one.
Parting the Playa: We headed out before the Temple burning, knowing traffic would be high and exhausted a bit with all Burning Man had to offer. There was only one line to leave and get on the two lane highway towards Reno, so it took a good three hours just to make out way out of the Playa. However, my bro and I tested out the desert flat for frisbee, and soon a bunch of people (although less than I expected - where are hippies when I need them?) joined us. When we joined my older brother back in the car, people got out of their cars and passed around leftover food to much on, Tequila shots (drivers excluded, of course) and some Swedish girl even passed out small bottles of Schnapps liquor. As we finally turned on the main road, I stared behind me, sad I was leaving but already feeling that it wouldn’t be too long before I was back.
For those of you who want a mardi gras carnival atmosphere without the frat party lewdness, the best club music on the desert, a Halloween with no costume restraints, art you didn’t think was possible, people from all walks of life, cirque de soleil caliber performances, and the best fireworks/fire shows experts have to offer, this just may be your thing. And maybe I’ll see you there, and ask, “How’s your Burn?”
