Slab City

In the summer of 2006, Krystal and I got a ride across the country, from Flagstaff to North Carolina, via a craigslist connection, Esteban. Knowing he lived in San Diego, I gave him a call while I was anchored in Mission Bay, and he told me he was taking off the next evening to go to Slab City. Folks, if you don't know anything about Slab City, I highly recommend a visit. It is a crazy trailer refuge out in the desert outside of San Diego, where a bunch of crazies set up camp on BLM land and scrape by. They have an outdoor "stage" set up, which consists of a plywood platform framed by a couple of derelict trailers, with rows and rows of decrepit greyhound seats lined up for the audience. Well, we went out there for their famous talent show, where a bunch of old guys and gals get up on stage and play classic rock, folk songs, and whatever else comes to mind. Any aspiring writers should be sure to do some character research here.
After a few hours and a few beers, one of the wandering recruiters convinced me to get up on stage and play a few, so I did, and I got Esteban to come up and play his harps (its never hard to convince him) and asked a couple of old ladies to sing harmony with me, and we put on a little show. What fun. I'm terrified of the stage, but I love it too. 2nd time ever. We did pretty good.
I wish I could send you guys some pictures, but unfortunately my camera has not yet woke from the dead. I don't think it ever will. I'll try and pick one up to keep my readership visually stimulated.