flagstaff pride, gypsy chicks, and my history of fire dancing

finally! a good day in flag. i think that most weekends in cities i will have a good time, most weekdays probably not. perhaps if college were in session right now it would be different, but probably not. i am pretty sheepish around college students.

so, the day started like any other (an ominous first line...), however i woke up later than usual. it is getting easier sleeping in the truck, i have found some good ways to arrange my stuff to make it more comfortable, and that makes things more comfortable. so, around 8:30a, i pushed off from my parking place and went towards the store to get something for breakfast and the post office to see if a package had arrived for me yet. no suck luck, looks like i will be here til monday.

then i came downtown and putted around for an hour, just walking up and down the streets i now know so well. i walked over and around the pride festival, looking for a good place to set up when the time came. around 11a that time came and i set up about 100 yards from the main entrance but the foot traffic came in spurts and i was set off to the side. however, shortly after setting up i sold two bracelets real quick and i was feeling good.

i stayed there until about 3p and ended up making $55. i was pretty happy with that. i had set up the night before at the square and didnt sell anything in two hours. mostly because of the bane of my existence. frank. jesus! why wont this guy leave me alone. he is 55 years old, and a fellow traveler/crafty person, he makes postcards. he just talked my ear off about all manner of things for the better part of an hour. i tried to be as disinterested as possible, but there was a certain niceness about conversing with someone, something i havent done for awhile.

but today, he found me again and just talked my ear off for over an hour. all about the girls he has fucked in his life. as we watched a parade of pride folks stream by he gestured and talked loudly about the many conquests he had had in his life, taking it back to hawai'i in 1986. i paid him even less attention, and eventually he got the hint and took off. he said that he was tired of making me sweat with his stories. as if. after he left i vowed to make a few more sales then pack up myself.

after that i went and had some lunch. i havent been eating out recently, which means i havent been eating hot food. so i treated myself to some thai food and was happy for it.

then i meandered back toward the main square for the gypsy chicks dance ensemble. it was pretty sweet. i watched them for about 20 minutes then went to go get my camera.

the gypsy chicks

i came back and took some photos, and who found me? yep, frank. again, telling me about the ladies he had slept with, in detail, and how they compared to some of the dancers. i was grateful that he only sat by me for a couple of minutes.

i enjoy watching people be creative in action. things like dancing. i took a number of pictures. eventually, the busted out the swords and said that there might be some sword swallowing, but that was never actualized. then, towards the end, a couple of the dancers starting doing fire dancing without the fire. and this is where we segue into my history of fire dancing.

i actually remembered this incident a couple nights previous and made a note document this memory. i have no idea why i was in san francisco. it was when i was traveling with the clown bus (whatever year that was...and for whatever reason), shortly after i had acquired my life friend happy mr. clown head. anyway. we were in the east bay and i was rolling deep with waffles the clown among others (i can only remember waffles name).

these were hard core clowns. waffles had his face paint tattooed on, forever a clown. so, we parked the bus a couple blocks from the this dance party/rave/i dont know what along the train tracks. the place we were at is well known and has a name, which i forget. i was at the party for awhile and i started drinking some clear liquor straight from the bottle, something i am not known to do. someone made mention of fire dancing and i was out the door.

there were fire dancers, fire spitters, and more. and i was drunk, i wanted to do it. it looked so easy. i went up to one of the dancers, i think was one of the clowns i was with (because why else would someone give a drunk stranger a ball and chain on fire.) and i danced my ass off. i was twirling that thing and jumping and having the time of my life. then i start doing the twirl on the side and whacked myself in the back of the head with the fire end and burnt off a portion of my hair. in my drunkenness i didnt think anyone noticed and kept going. but then someone took the thing away and fire and me were separated for a number of years.

what number, i am unsure. the second time i danced with fire was in portland when our dear friend gdm was visiting from england. he had brought gear with him to fire dance and at some party he busted the stuff out, again i was drunk and insisted that i knew what i was doing. i do believe i assured him that i had done this before. i dont recall any mishaps this time, but i also dont recall what year it was, so i am going to play it safe and assume i messed up with it. and that is my fire dancing history. too bad happy mr. clown head wasnt here to tell part of the story.

so, then, i watched the rest of the gypsy chicks dancing and just sat around for awhile in admiration of this town that only a couple of days ago i had so much disdain for. pretty much every night they have some sort of entertainment in the downtown square and the weekends seem like lively times that draw people from all over the surrounding area. i could like it here.