Every year, just before labor day, just north of Reno, on a barren stretch of land called the Black Rock Desert, a mass migration of bipedal mammals congregate for a few days of alternative community and self-expression. This gathering might be describe as "enigmatic" but could just as inadequately be described as "living art" .

One of the most disturbing and disorienting phenomenon that everyone experiences – at what has come to be known as "Burning Man" – is not the heat, not the real and immediate danger of succumbing to sunburn, heat stroke, dehydration, mildly inappropriate drug consumption or psychic overload (or all of the above), it is living in an environment where - day and night - you are constantly being assailed with stories of the most amazing and unbelievable sights, sounds and occurrences that happened just a few minutes ago.

The geographic locations of these things range from the infinitely distant "other side of camp," to the infinitely vague "just out on the playa," to the infinitely frustrating "exactly where you are standing now." But consistently and incessantly these things are always happen exactly where you are not.

So it's time now to launch your butt out of that uncomfortable chair, forgo your next beer and step out of the relative safety of your three square feet of hard won shade for a little of Saint Lucy's advice and direction on how to make the most of your day in the sun. In no time at all you will be driving people out of their minds with stories of what they just missed...