We met Rupert and Kathy at the Sparks Marina RV Park, and it was great finding something "real" in the land of fake grass. I had a few opportunities to talk with Rupert, and really enjoyed listening to his many stories. My only regret was that we weren't staying longer in Sparks - I would have loved to been able to hang out and talk to him more.
Rupert is a cool dood. He is a retired commercial fisherman, and when living in a stick house, resides on Maui. His truck and Harley carry Hawaii plates, which is not too common to see. They roll around on a couple of Segway Human Transporters, with their little dog Cookie hanging out in the basket. Rupert speaks fondly of the 60's and 70's - stories like seeing Jimi Hendrix play on the back of a flatbed trailer.
But, out of all that coolness, the part that created an instant connection is that they are Burners. Old Skool Burners.
That is the reason for the "Mahalo" in the subject of this post. Rupert reminded me what I loved so much about the Days in the Dust. He reminded me about the connections, the friendships, the like-minded people. He painted vivid pictures of life on the Playa, and about the memories he has of fellow Burners that he has met.
Rupert reset my brain, and I allowed me to put behind the expense, the dust, the work, the drive, the heat, the .... the what ever reason I can come up with to say I won't be going this year again. It was nice being re-connected to Burning Man without having to be out there. It made me want to go again.
Mahalo, Rupert. Hope to see you out there someday, and look forward to our paths crossing again.
--kev
