More from Slab City

Niland has an annual Tomato Festival with a parade, rides and things like a tomato-packing contest. The crazy thing is they haven't grown tomatoes in Niland for thirty years. Anyway, I was part of a Slab City contigent that included this crew riding on top of Pretty-Bus Mike's bus. I played in the band that was towed on a tiny trailer behind this beautiful bus. We were two guitars, bass, drums and trombone(?). It was a hoot. Unfortunately I don't yet have pictures of us but I hope to at some point. 

The beautiful desert:

...the setting for art installations...

...a very Slabby skate park...

...a hot spring, here at sunset...

...and starry nights with music around the campfire with friends.

But the real beauty in Slab City is in the endlessly fascinating people who live here.

Tennessee Ken: This shot is from last year because Ken died suddenly about ten days after I got to the City. We miss his wit and sense of humor and his beautiful baritone voice he delivered it with. He died with a woman in his arms as I'm sure he would have wished.

Spider, who ran the open mic at The Range on Saturday nights and the occasional Sunday afternoons.

Cookie and Earl, full-time Slabbers. Here at Earls 80th birthday.

Deborah (emphasis on the second syllable), a terrific singer.

Cuervo, with his mule, Rock and Roll.

Jimi James, a great musician. I had lots of fun playing with Jimi.

Mike Bright, another full-timer, a poet and a friend.

Sandi, an artist and a friend with one of her creations. She is also an accomplished musician.

Peter, who lives in a school bus, known as The Cool Bus and who became a good friend.

Radio Mike, who operates an unbelievably great pirate radio station that broadcasts just to Slab City twelve hours a day and who hosts a party every Friday evening. A fine artist and musician who is like a brother.

Here am I at Radio Mike's Gilligan's Island theme party in February doing my best Thurston Howe III.

One last self portrait at Gopher Flats golf course.

Angel. A purebred Slab dog. Here in front of Tennessee Ken's ramada which is now a kind of shrine to our departed friend.

Goodnight Slab City, until next season.