My manager gave me the whole weekend off, so I was able to play the entire weekend of the event! For me, Phuture felt like it lasted a lot longer than a day. My Fridaywas an adventure in itself, therefore, I will not tell you about it in great detail; all I will say; and those who are "herbally educated" will know what I am talking about; is that I came up on 2.0 for $25 and then another 4.3 for $5 (yes, I said 4.3 for $5! I told you Friday was crazy). As you can see, my weekend started off better than expected, and made my already high hopes about Phuture grow even more. Saturday I woke up around noon with a smile on my face, and even though we were supposed to leave no later than 2:30pm and I had a million things to do before we left, that smile didn't budge or wrinkle with doubt. Maybe it had something to do with all the THC in my system, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that December 15th, a day I had been awaiting for a long time, had finally arrived. Or maybe both...but, either way, even though we didn't get on the freeway until around 3:30pm, there was traffic along the way, and there was a huge line of people waiting at Gate 9 when we finally arrived at the orange show, I didn't lose my head (a.k.a. "patience," a.k.a. "temper") until the 2nd time I was waiting in line to get into Phuture. The 2nd time, you ask? Let me backtrack alittle...When we first arrived at Gate 9, I caught a distant, brief glimpse of Gate 8. Suspecting that I should go to Gate 8 to sign in with guest list and get my ticket, I asked a security guard where the line for the guest list was, and he told me to just "stay here". So, since I couldn't see what was on the other side of the gate, I figured that there would be a little booth setup containing a cashbox, a stack of tickets, and a couple of cold ravers marking things on a thick stack of paper with pens or highlighters. 45 minutes later, however, I found that on the other side of that pathetic excuse for a line, there was no imagined ticket booth. Instead, there was only a wide, open field blocked off by a swarm of security guards and Flaverz staff. All were busy searching people or tearing tickets. "Where's the guest list?",I asked one of these individuals. He looked at me like I had seven heads."It's over at Gate 8. Did you just wait in that line to get in here?" No, I fucking flew. "Yes. I asked one of the security guards where the line for guest list is, and he told me to just stay in the one I was in. I didn't know I was 'sposed to go over to Gate 8." I could feel my anger building up, like a cup being filled with water. The ticket tearer, the only thing between myself and Phuture, gave me a cold, heartless stare. No matter how much I flirted, begged, practically pleaded with the guy, he still would show me no mercy. I feared I would overflow. When I showed him my press pass and ID, he hassled me even more. "All you have to do is go back over to Gate 8, get your ticket, and wait in that line again. That's all." "Oh, yeah, dude, that's all I have to do is wait in that 2 hour lineagain, that's all," as I stormed off to fight my way through the crowd I had just done battle with, I felt the anger spill. For once in my life, my flirtatiousness had failed me. Not only that, I couldn't understand how anyone could be such a fucking power tripper. Out of all the thousands of people paying $50 a pop to get into this massive, they couldn't let one person slide who was going to get in for free anyway? Even if I was lying, was one, or even a couple people getting into the party for free when they weren't supposed togoing to drastically affect their profits, or in this case losses?
Whatever...an hour and a half later my faithful sidekick, Pot Head James (aka PHJ), and I finally got through the line, again, and inside the party. I probably looked like an angry junglist, running about in my red tribal hat and army jacket talking shit to anyone who dared to get in my way. Luckily, we made it through the mission without cracking any skulls. Some of the people I came with had been inside for awhile, so they had already explored the grounds. They met us by the front when we got in (cell phones are so handy!) the first thing I did was run to the Andy Gumps. After we had relieved ourselves, they took us to the house room, which was inside one of two very large rooms that they had open (they looked like airplane hangers to me). The music was bumpin when we got inside, and there was lots of smoke from fog machines, cigarettes, and, well...you know.
The dance floor was crowded with people doing all kinds of different things;
sitting, laying down, talking, smoking, eating, drinking, and of course, dancing.
We chose to blend in with the crowd long enough to smoke a couple of snaps to our domes. I felt myself calm down, felt the anger recede. The bass began to move me, and my house step took control for a while. It felt good to warm up my bones and get the smoky air moving through my lungs. After a bit, we walked through a doorway that led to a room placed behind the house room. What have we here? Jungle! Yeah! I jumped with the crowd to the funky bass drops,and was glad that I had made it into the massive. After that, we explored the venue for ourselves, stopping to check out all the little booths and trying to negotiate deals with some of the owners.
We chilled in the hip hop area for a while, but got bored, cold, & hungry.
So we bought food and went back over to the two buildings, and after exploring the one we hadn't beenin yet (which was a trance room), decided to go back into the house room. Naturally, we got sucked back into the jungle room. As we were dancing in there, we noticed that there was a booth set up by the wall, which was selling some nice looking pieces. I noticed that they were having a raffle at midnight, and the winner would get a phat looking pipe. So I bought a raffle ticket (they were only $1 each, so I figured why not?) we inquired to the owner about prices of various pipes and bubblers, and after some haggling, he pointed to a section of various small glass pipes and said "pick any two of these for $20," sounds good to me. Anyways, we smoked personal bowls to our dome out on the dance floor of the jungle room out of our brand-spanking new glass pipes. Then, we ventured forth once more, in the direction of the hip hop room. Along the way, we ran into Mark and some of the rest of the Digest crew.
We kicked it with them for a while, and then continued on our journey to the hip hop area.We got there just in time to see Rahzel start his set. He introduced his DJ (JS One) who I had never heard of before, and then they immediately started to tear shit up. After they had our full attention, Rahzel said to JS "Do you think they're ready for man versus machine? I couldn't believe it. Was he really going to battle his DJ with noises that came out of his mouth? I had heard tapes of Rahzel before, but I wasn't really impressed. I always thought that some of the stuff I had heard was his voice, while the rest was computer generated or something. But when he started to b-box, my jaw dropped into my lap, and it stayed that way for the rest of his show. I cannot describe the things that he did, but it still brings tears to my eyes whenever I retell the story to others. He ended his set by beat boxing the base-line, beat, and chorus (yes, all at the same time) of an old-skool hip hop song. Oh, it was so beautiful! After that, Dilated Peoples invaded the stage, and the energy from the already elated crowd increased tenfold. As their set began to die down and they cleared the stage for the next act, James and I decided to rest our weary legs and thaw our numb bodies by sitting in either the house, trance, or jungle room while taking more snaps. We ran into Mark in front of the trance room, so we decided to enter there (hey, some trance every now and then is nice).

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Surprisingly, the trance was going off. It reminded me of this old Jason Blakemore tape I have (it's so old, it says "DJ Trance" on it). The three of us parked next to this white guy who was really good at popping, but I didn't watch him for very long 'cuz I was busy entertaining myself. Soon thereafter I looked at my watch, which read 11:50. Oh, no! I had better get myself down to that booth, they're gonna have the raffle in about 10 minutes...I left the trance room, pulling PHJ and Mark after me. Unfortunately, the raffle lagged, and they didn't actually draw the winning tickets until 12:20 or so. I didn't win anything, so after that waste of time, we were determined to make the best out of the rest of the time we had left.
 
 
For the next two hours, we wandered from the house to the jungle rooms, enjoying the live bass and sweaty atmosphere as much as possible. 2am came all too quickly, and now it was time to go pass out magazines in front of Gate 9 (that was the only positive thing about having one gate open, it made promoting easy). As the traffic was crawling out of the parking lot and spilling upon the open streets, we piled into my car. We were dirty and tired, but extremely happy with the results of our evening. I was very, very grateful that Aaron would be the one driving home, because that meant that I could just relax, smoke, and reminisce for the next hour and a half. We all felt that though we had to go through a lot of bullshit to get inside the party, but we had fun in the end. For me, personally, Rahzel and Dilated Peoples made it all worth while. The adventure ended the next day, when PHJ and I were having a session. "I wish I was still there," I said to him. "Yeah, me too," he replied. Then, he accidentally dropped the pipe that he had bought the night before. We both looked down at where it had snapped into 3 perfect pieces. "Oh well, I only paid $10 for it." I think, that for some reason, we had both been expecting it to break, as though the weekend had been too good to be true and that something bad had to happen just so that we knew we were really awake and not dreaming.
 
 
 
 

 


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ORION AFTER PARTY

(this part by Mark #37)

After Phu, some people went to the after party at Orion in LA, where some of us seem to be all the time these days.

To sum it up, the DJ spinning house there let it flow smooth and strong the entire time.

We headed back to San Diego after 5, when raves are supposed to end, and saw this, which is what you are supposed to see after a rave...