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Thomas Michael
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| MaJik |
| Who else likes this guys mixing? Besides his cds that were commercially released, does anyone know any of the songs he used on any of his mixed tapes? Thanks |
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| torontotrance |
| I'm a huge fan of productions from Thomas Michael but I've never heard him mix live or on an mp3. |
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| MaJik |
| Really? If I knew how to upload things correctly, I would send you one. He has a few great old skool mixes. I havent seen him live for a few years (he used to headline all the raves down here years ago)but I hear he's still sick behind the decks. |
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| hooj1 |
| I saw him in 99', and he was really good. |
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| raveballs |
here's the tracks i know of from his promos.
i have cassettes transferred to CDR if anyone's interested.
track listings were updated 6/17/05:
Supernova (1997)
1. Side A 37:04
Abyss-Electric Skychurch (0:00-)
Submission-The Freak and Mac Zimms (12:00-)
The Visitors (Dub Mix)-Octavia (20:00-)
Offshore-Chicane (28:00-)
Moments in Love-Art of Noise (33:00-)
2. Side B 41:32
Resonance-Magic Alec (18:00-)
Seven Days and One Week-B.B.E. (36:00-)
possible additional artists/labels:
Orb/Express of Sound/Kadoc
Jim Clark/Coyote/ Noisemaker
Drop Out/Sungod/Vector
Jon Marc Voyeur & David Aaron
High School Dropouts
Force Mass Motion
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Audiogasm (1996)
1. Side A 39:44
Nocturnal Transmision-bt (0:00-)
The Ikarus Syndrome-Earth Nation (5:00-)
Radiate-Brother Grim (24:00-)
2. Side B 40:13
Lollipop Man-Union Jack (0:00-)
Alienated-Earth Nation (7:00-)
Go Ahead London-Tesox (34:00-)
(Anomaly (Calling Your Name)
-Libra Presents Taylor) (38:00-)
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Sweet Candy Love (2000)
1. Airwave (Rank 1 vs Dutch Force remix)-Rank 1 4:15
2. Seven Cities (Atlantis Mix)-Solar Stone 5:56
3. Kiss (When the Sun Don't Shine) (Airscape remix)
-Vengaboys 7:50
4. Touch Me-Rising Star 4:44
5. Escape-Kaycee 5:00
6. Water Verve-Mark van Dale w/Enrico 4:46
7. Better Off Alone-Alice Deejay 4:58
8. Cequenza (Rapid Eye vs. The Thrillseekers Remix)-Cequenza 6:09
9. (?) 8:31
10. (?) 4:01
11. Revelation-Electrique Boutique 6:53
12. The Living Dream (Swimmer mix)-Sundance 4:58
13. (?) 3:53
possible addition artists/labels:
Katcha/DJ Quicksilver
Massive Overdrive
Colonel Gurnell
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Live @ Hardrock Hotel, Las Vegas (2001)
4. You Take My Breath Away (instr.)-So-Real 5:40
9. Different Ways-Free State 8:48
11. El Niño (Matt Darey 12” mix)-Agnelli + Nelson
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DJ for the People: Los Angeles (The Yellow CD) (2001)
track 6 ID needed
http://www.tranceaddict.com/forums/...threadid=254558
7. White Bird (Cosmic Gate mix)-Vanessa-Mae
12. Mercury & Solace-bt
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THOMAS MICHAEL's SERPENT & THE RAINBOW (2001)
track 9 ID needed
http://www.tranceaddict.com/forums/...threadid=254555 |
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| surfrgal |
| quote: | Originally posted by torontotrance
I'm a huge fan of productions from Thomas Michael but I've never heard him mix live or on an mp3. |
I didn't know that Thomas Michael ever did any production work, I thought he was strictly a Dj? |
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| MaJik |
| quote: | | I didn't know that Thomas Michael ever did any production work, I thought he was strictly a Dj? |
The only track I know of that he has done production work on is "what love is" on Fragrant Records. He remixed that track, I think for his "westcoast vibes" cd. :) |
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| wink |
| I dont know guys.. I've heard alot of people talk about this dude.. and just looking at his tracklists I dont know if I could handle listening to a mix by him. I mean he played Alice dj for godsake.. hehe is his mixing really that good? :eyes: |
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| MaJik |
| quote: | | I dont know guys.. I've heard alot of people talk about this dude.. and just looking at his tracklists I dont know if I could handle listening to a mix by him. I mean he played Alice dj for godsake.. hehe is his mixing really that good? |
Serriously....he also played that ty "verve" remix on another mix.....but I think almost every really great DJ has spun a few records in their career. TM has also done some mixes I thought sucked, but overall, his other mixes more than made up for the bad ones. Also, when I used to see him live years ago, he always delivered. I can't say how he is now, being that I havent seen him spin in a long time, but his sets used to be insane :)
And just a side note that I found interesting.....
I do shows out here in LA with a group of people, and at the last show we put on, we had one DJ from San Francisco who played a lot of trance anthems like the Alice DJ song and what not, and the crowd (roughly around 1200 heads) loved it. I was working the door, but from what I heard from those in the main room, people were going off and singing along and just straight up loving it. I always figured playing those songs might not go over so well, but at this party people were diggin it. go figure :P MAD PROPS to Mr. James Dub for destroying the dance floor! :P |
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| raveballs |
that ty verve remix (Water Verve-Mark van Dale w/Enrico) was playing while i was almost killed hitchhiking down the mountain during jujubeats '98. and "bittersweet symphony" was playing in my head when i got jumped by three guys in east hollywood. LOL
i saw thomas spin last year at orion, and his set was short and uninspiring. but i saw him the year before at grand ave, and he got the crowd going like he usually did.
and i like "better off alone" whether it's trendy or not. maybe thomas spun it before it became a massive hit, you know? do yourself a favour and listen to the harder edged jam & dumonde remix if you haven't already.
nocshroom rules! :P |
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| MaJik |
Seems like you have had bad luck whenever you come around the verve music.... :P
Anyone who would like an interesting read, check out Raveball's JuJu Beats story on raveballs.com (pls correct that if I have it wrong). Plus, you'll also know what were talking about! The more recent Spundae story was intersting too.
I'll check out that mix of 'better off alone.' The only reason I dont like that song much anymore is because I did when it came out, and I used have it stuck in my head all day at work! But I'll still listen to it here and there... :P |
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| raveballs |
thanks for the props ad...er, noc.., i mean maJik. here's the jujubeats story if anyone's interested. my website got hacked into, so it's not accessible anymore. and the spundae story is at http://www.tranceaddict.com/forums/...threadid=250250
funny thing is, i LOVE that verve cd! :P i'll email you an mp3 of that LSDJ track...
HALF THE FUN IS GETTING THERE?!
I have faith. That's something I discovered the other morning on what I've
dubbed "the worst day of my life." Either that, or the most mentally trying
day of my life. By the end of the day, I nearly broke down in tears I was so
tired and frustrated. This is a tale of winding mountain roads, drugs, heat,
fatigue, dehydration, and driving, driving, driving.
It all started normal enough at my friend Tage's house in Agoura. My
girlfriend of eight months, Natasha, and I were meeting up with some friends to
go to a rave. For those of you not familiar with what a rave is, it's pretty
much an all-night party, with lots of techno music, lights, friendly people,
and an occasional drug overdose. The location of the rave is usually not
disclosed until the day of, adding to the mystique and secrecy of the scene. The
party's name was Jujubeats, thrown by B3 Cande for the third year in a row. The
tickets were $30 each, and had some of the most well-known deejays set to
spin. We had already called for instructions to the "map point" earlier that day
(Saturday, August 28, 1999). We were supposed to get on the 10 East and exit
11th Street. I felt a bit uneasy that I couldn't find this exit on the map,
but was confident we'd see the off-ramp on the freeway.
There were two carloads of people: Natasha and I, and Tage, her older
sister Min, Tage's boyfriend Turtle, and Becky. We left Tage's house around 6PM
and after about an hour and 15 minutes, the 210 East had ended, we exited and
found a McDonald's in Pomona. After a couple of phone calls, and some new map
location, we got back on the road. Somewhere on the way, we lost sight of
Turtle, (who was weaving in-and-out of traffic), and just kept on heading west
on the 10. After about an hour, we reached the end of the 10, this time in
Santa Monica. Again we found a pay phone and had to wait fifteen minutes for
some guy to hang up. We walked away to check our map, and some guys who feigned
to speak English cut in front of us, adding to our frustration. I finally
found the location of the map point and it was about ten minutes away from where
the McDonald's was. Seems as if Turtle had made a slight oversight and took
the 10 West instead of East. Natasha was driving by now, and we were both
getting pretty anxious. But at least now we knew where we were going.
About an hour-and-a-half later we found Soundwave Records, picked up the
directions to the rave, filled up our tank, and were on our way. The location
was about 45 minutes away, up the Angeles Crest Highway, at an old ski
resort. I had been to a party called House of Dreams a year ago, so I should have
been familiar with the area. After about 45 minutes, I realized we had missed
our transition to the 138 towards Wrightwood. We were about twenty minutes
east of Barstow, heading the wrong direction. By this time, we both had
headaches, and we were both feeling stupid for missing the sign. It would be about
another hour-and-a-half before we were at the foot of the Angeles Crest
Highway. At least we had our rave tapes to listen to in the car. I made Natasha
agree not to stress out, because we knew where we were and it was just a matter
of time before we were there. And besides, I never got to a rave before
midnight anyway.
We finally found our way to the mountain road. It was over 7000 feet
above sea level. That's over 35 minutes of driving up a steep, winding, narrow
mountain road. A parking attendant showed us where to park, we got our gear
together, and exited the car (finally!). It was now about 12:30AM and we had
been driving for about six hours. We were very tired, but exited at the same
time. We hopped on a long bus and headed up to the party. The bus made a
couple of stops to pick up more kids. We eventually were crammed to full capacity,
three kids to a seat and some even crouching on the floor. When we passed
another bus on its way down, it was an event because of the narrow road and cars
parked on both sides of it. We came to a complete stop for five minutes, and
our bus driver, (complete with pierced-tongue), tried to squeeze by the
oncoming bus. The other bus smashed into a parked car that was later towed away.
Then, another bus came down and we were literally inches away from it. So
close, in fact, that we nearly scraped off their side-view mirror. With the kids
yelling in unison of, "go, go go!", we sped past the damaged bus. I felt
like I was in the trenches of World War I, fighting for just 50 yards of land. I
told Natasha this has been the most exiting bus ride of my life. Beats
anything from junior high school.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE HERE!"
We finally get to the rave, with no wait, and light security (they didn't
even pat me down). It was just an ocean of people; crammed to maximum capacity.
Just to walk twenty feet was a chore. We picked up some glow sticks, (mine
green, hers blue), and set off to explore. The main stage was huge, with
several thousand kids dancing to the house beats of DJ Dan. Green lasers shot
overhead, three-dimensional pictures projected onto the mountainside, and the
Jujubeats bee buzzed around the screens behind the stage. We briefly glanced at
the jungle area, but it was so hard to get around we just bypassed it
altogether. Not to my surprise, Natasha couldn't find any port-o-potties with toilet
paper. I spotted Tage and Turtle, and exchanged warm hugs. They had been at
the party for over two hours. We bought some $3 water and soon lost them again
(and our water).
Natasha and I worked our way through the crowd and tried to dance. It
was just too crowded, with everyone bumping into each other and passing by. We
decided to try to find some dancing space elsewhere. Two Asian girls gave us
hugs and threw some positive vibes our way. We danced for a little bit once
we found a spot. It was still crowded and the ground was uneven. Natasha was
getting cold, so we settled down for awhile. She hadn't dressed warm enough
because we didn't know we would be up in the mountains. She had also forgotten
her wallet at home, so we couldn't afford the $35 sweatshirts, even between
the both of us. She spent a lot of time resting against me, with myself just
trying to keep her warm. We bought a maple muffin and hot dog, (which took
about fifteen minutes to make), and headed upstairs to the second stage.
We found a table to sit on and staked our claim. Natasha spotted money
on the ground and I deftly snatched it up. We were now $40 richer. Just
enough for a sweatshirt, but we decided against it because the sun would be rising
soon. I found out later that Turtle had lost $40 upstairs and this was
probably his: small world. I chatted briefly with one of my favorite deejay's,
Thomas Michael. I told him he still ruled. He laughed and recognized me from a
couple of weekends before at the H2O party. I had shaken his hand while he
was spinning and told him that he ruled. I said that I'd realized that I'd come
off like Beavis and Butt-Head and he smiled. He asked me where the stage was
and I pointed him to it. At 5:30AM, he started spinning. Natasha had gotten
little cat-naps here-and-there. Thomas Michael was spinning some hard trance
and we were ready to dance. It actually was less crowded than downstairs,
although the space was more confined. The only bad thing was all the dirt
kicked up by hundreds of dancing feet. One can only take so much breathing in dust
before he must get some fresh air.
Around 7AM, we went downstairs to check out Doc Martin. Having seen him
spin his mad house sets before, I knew he was the bomb. He was set to spin
one of his legendary morning sets, until 9AM. Unfortunately we were both beat,
and didn't have enough energy to go on. And Natasha was still cold. (She is
thin and I've got hair on my arms). We made our way outside the party and
waited for the bus. There were also many others waiting too, and the bus was
facing the wrong way. I suggested to Natasha that we walk. It was only about
ten minutes downhill and I liked to push myself when I rave. She begrudgingly
agreed, and we started to walk. We were shaded by the mountainside, and she
was still cold. I jokingly told her to "be a man." Then it grew hot. So warm
in fact we started to sweat.
The bus ride must have been longer than we had remembered. We had been
walking for about twenty minutes, with no sign of our car. It got to a point where
Natasha was so tired she could barely walk for five minutes without resting.
I forgot to mention that the night before the rave I had not slept well at
all. To my best estimate, I probably got about three hours of sleep. We played
a memory game to pass the time. Another twenty minutes passed by. We were
both thirsty. Thank God I had Pez in my pocket. A married couple in a jeep
stopped us. They told us that they had somehow locked their club on the
steering wheel and didn't have the key. They had been waiting for over four hours
for a miracle. We agreed to take their friend down the mountain to find a
phone. He was a muscular, effeminate guy from Peru. It occurred to me that this
was a bit sketchy, driving a complete stranger forty minutes down a mountain.
But they were in need of help and seemed like normal folk. A couple minutes
later a car-full of three guys pulled over and offered to drive us down the
mountain. They said they were "partying," which should have been a red flag off
the bat. Exhausted, we agreed. Normally I would NEVER get into a car with a
stranger, but the rave culture is unique. Making friends with complete
strangers is commonplace for the scene.
Once we got inside, I realized that I might have made a mistake.
Although the guy driving seemed fine, the other two were "cracked out" as they say.
The guy in the front seat wouldn't shut up the whole time. The goateed-guy
next to us had a huge brown, broken blood vessel in his right eye. They offered
us vials of acid and pills of ecstasy right off the bat. We respectfully
declined, stating that I had to drive home. All their stories were associated
with drugs or getting arrested for driving poorly. I realized that these guys
were idiots and started feeling very uncomfortable. We were crammed, four of
us, in the backseat. They dropped the Peruvian off at a biker's bar to make
his phone call. I wanted to get out, but walking in the blazing hot sun would
have been unbearable. Besides, I was sure the car was just around the corner.
I forgot to mention that the car was cruising on fumes. The driver was
in neutral to save gas and using the emergency brake because it was more
effective in this gear. We were rounding sharp mountain corners at speeds at which
I was not too keen on. The driver was also following the car in front of us
rather closely. He explained that he didn't want to lose his momentum and
apologized if he was getting us nervous. He had crossed over the double yellow
lines at one point around a curve. Natasha was digging into my arm and I was
grabbing her thigh rather tightly, both stressing out. I pictured the driver
losing control and driving off the side of the mountain side. I started feeling
horrible because I felt responsible if anything would happen to Natasha. I
felt it was my fault that I had gotten her into this situation. I thought of
my parent's faces when they found out their son was killed, drugs strewn all
over the car. I felt scared for my life for some brief moments, but didn't
panic. I did my best to keep my head on straight. It's amazing what goes through
your head at times like these. I kept thinking to myself, "we're going to be
okay." It is not God's plan to end my life on a mountainside. I'm a good
person and everything will be alright. I realized that, even though I am not a
religious person, I do have faith. Faith in something. Something out there
that is bigger than myself. I felt like I had absolutely no control over the
situation I was in. It was like a nightmare. And it kept getting worse. It
seemed as if someone or something was keeping us from finding our car. I
wished I could just sleep and be home already. I jokingly told Natasha when we
were lost before the rave that I was about to break down in tears. Now I really
felt like I was on the verge of cracking. My delicate psyche was being pushed
to the limit. I'd had virtually no sleep for two straight days. I was
getting over mono. Dancing all night had taken its toll on my body. I was ready
to collapse. But I had to remain calm and be strong. I wanted to keep it
together, for my own sake and for Natasha.
We were listening to some techno music when a dance version of The Verve's
"Bittersweet Symphony" came on. This was ironic because I was singing this
song on another horrible night I had two years ago. The Verve always gave me a
feeling of hope, mixed with a touch of despair. We were working our way down
the mountain when Natasha and I began to doubt we would find our car. Maybe we
had walked by it somehow in our haze. The driver said that he would drop us
off by a phone at the bottom of the mountain if we didn't find our car. They
didn't have enough gas to drive us back up. We'd have to hitch a ride back up
the mountain and look for it again. That prospect made me nervous; I'd had
my fill of hitchhiking for the day. Plus, finding a ride up isn't as easy as
finding a ride down. There were not many cars driving up the mountain at 9AM
Sunday morning. Who could we call? Tage? Mor? Rob? No one who lived closer
than 90 minutes away. It was looking rather grim for us. I remember
thinking about all the reasons I should stop raving. Promising myself this will be
our last big party this year. Too much trouble. Too many people. Too many
drugs. Too much driving. Too much money. Not enough sleep.
The car pulled over when we saw a police car on the other side of the road.
He had pulled a car over that was weaving. Told the officer our situation and
seemed unaffected by it. He kept saying how there were a lot of problems and
not enough people to help. All we wanted was a ride up with him. He was
going that way anyhow. But he just didn't care about our situation. Of course
he wouldn't help the guys out with gas either. To protect and serve my ass!
Beaten, but not defeated, we headed downward again. Not a minute went by
before they flagged down a tow truck. We pleaded with the driver to let us drive
up with him: he agreed!
MARV: A NEW HOPE
Natasha and I jumped into the truck before he changed his mind. The tow
truck driver gave the guys some gas (even though they were not AAA members).
He offered him $5 for a gallon, although I don't know if he took the money.
As soon as we started back up the mountain I began feeling better, although
still a bit weary. We introduced ourselves: his name was Marv.
Marv looked like he was in his late 50's. He was drinking coffee and said
he'd been working since 11 o'clock that night, driving up and down the mountain
to tow cars away that were blocking the narrow road. I start to think,
"Great. This guys been up all night and is hopped up on caffeine and nicotine."
Plus the truck sounded like it was straining to get up the steep hills. But I
quelled my fears and told myself that this guy was a professional. He was an
adult and knew what he was doing. I began to feel as comfortable as I could be
on that winding mountain road. As it turns out, Marv was really cool. He
offered Natasha a cigarette, even though he only had a couple left. Between
taking calls on his CB radio, we chatted about our traumatic day and the rave
scene in general. He told us he'd heard that some guy went crazy with a sword
inside the party. We told him that didn't sound true. It's funny the kind of
rumors that fly around at huge functions like these.
The entire way up the mountain, Marv kept pulling over to help people out:
filling up kids' gas tanks, pulling over to check that no one was stranded in
their cars in the blazing hot sun, etc. We pulled into the biker bar again and
picked up the Peruvian guy, who had met Marv earlier. I turned to him and
joked, "We can't get rid of you," as we again were cramped in the car to make
room for him. Marv dropped him off at the stranded jeep with the club still
in-tow. Marv told him that someone was supposed to be on their way to help them
out. The Peruvian was now alone, as his friends had left the jeep. We wished
him luck and continued up the mountain. All Natasha and I wanted to do was
to get up that mountain and find our car. It seemed like every five minutes we
were pulling over for some reason or another. Exhaustion was starting to set
in. I imagined how I would feel at 5PM when I was scheduled to work.
Another stop and a girl told Marv her car keys were stolen and had been waiting for
over six hours for a tow truck. He said he could help her on his way back.
I had begun to realize that Marv was sent from heaven. He was like our
guardian angel, sent here to help us get home. The difference between Marv and
most others is that he cared. He seemed genuinely concerned about the poor
stranded kids, nothing like the cop that waved us off earlier. I knew at that
moment we'd remember him for the rest of our lives. I asked if I could call his
company and compliment him. He said we shouldn't because he probably wasn't
supposed to be giving us a free ride up the mountain. But he asked if I had a
AAA card (I do). He got a nice commission for all his stops. He said he'd
report to them that he had to jump our battery. I felt good that I could help
him out, even in that small way. I felt that I owed him so much. He went out
of his way to help us out. He didn't have to do that. I told him that he had
a good heart.
A call came in over Marv's CB radio. A car had fallen off the side of the
cliff and was now 1000 feet down the mountain. Was it pushed? Slide off the
cliff when trying to pull out of the parking space? No one knew if anybody was
in there. Another call came in. There were five people in the car, probably
all kids. I imagined a carload of ravers, partying and dancing all night.
Still high on the vibe, or whatever else they took that night (acid-laced
snow-cones I've heard). And then, in an instant, they are gliding through the air,
plummeting to their deaths. I realized that it could have been us. Our
little sketchy trek down the mountain was probably a similar situation. It could
have been us. I felt so lucky all of a sudden. Our problems seemed so petty.
We were complaining about what? Not finding our car? Having to walk down
the mountain? Being tired? I counted my blessings and was thankful I was at
least still alive to be complaining.
We finally made it to the top of the mountain, where the rave had been.
Natasha looked at me and desperately asked, "Where's our car, Eric?" Had it
rolled off the side of the cliff? Had it been towed down like the others? Had it
been stolen? Oh God, please let it not be stolen. A chill ran down my back
and butterflies swirled in my stomach. So this is how it ends. I started
thinking about all the items in my car that I would never see again: my rave
tapes being the most important to me. How was I going to get to work? How were
we going to get home? How could I afford to buy another car? How could I keep
my job? Just when all hope seemed gone, a miracle happened. I mentioned
something about Highway 138. Marv said, "The 138 is that way," pointing ahead of
us. We had been going to wrong way down the mountain. Our car was parked on
the east slope, not west. I started feeling very stupid all of a sudden.
How could we have gone the wrong direction? The bus ride must have
disorientated us. The bus after the rave was facing the right direction after all! The
most amazing part was that neither one of us had ever even fancied the notion
that we could possibly be going the wrong way. Damn, we must've been tired!
The funniest part was that we had been shooting the with Marv for about 45
minutes and not once had mentioned that we entered from San Bernadino.
An anvil-sized weight had just been lifted off of our bodies. I was
confident our car was just around the corner. And guess what? It was. Just five
minutes down the road, on the right-hand side, sat our car. Just like the map
point before the rave, we were only minutes away from the location. But it took
us hours of frustration to find it. I stopped trying to figure out why and
counted my blessings. I realized that even though we were idiots, there were
even bigger idiots at the rave waiting even longer than we did for a ride. I
gave Marv my AAA card, gave him a heartfelt thanks, and told him to take care.
He said that he would wait until we started our car. I added, "And to take
our club off." Ha ha. I had never been so happy to be inside my car. I
triumphantly told Natasha that I so needed to listen to The Verve. Victory was
ours, at last! Whatever happened to us now would pale in comparison to our
previous adventure. We were on our way… well, almost.
We knew from Marv that there was a roadblock because of the tragedy, but
thought we could get by. When we reached the gates, we parked and got out of our
cars. Natasha adamantly told me that she didn't care what the officers said,
we were going to get down that mountain. That was our way home. Not to my
surprise, this didn't happen. They said emergency vehicles were blocking both
sides of the road. It wouldn't be open for at least another three hours. My
God, my God, why have you forsaken me?! Nothing could be easy, could it?
Nothing could go our way. We had to fight every inch of the way. The roadblocks
I spoke of earlier now became literal. We mentioned to the officers that we
were from Ventura and they laughed that we would drive so far for a party.
They told us we had to turn back around and drive back the same mountain road we
had just come from. I thought, "Oh God, it's gonna take us three hours to
drive home that way." But I was mistaken. That way was actually shorter, since
we drove up the mountain from the east side. Thankful yet again, we started
back to our cars.
Two teenage girls asked us to give them a ride to a phone. They had missed
their ride home and were supposed to be picked up by another friend who was
stopped at the other side of the roadblock. She said that she was stuck on the
road and the authorities wouldn't let her turn back around, either. We agreed
to give them a lift. They had flown down here all the way from San Francisco
just for the rave. Not that's dedication! We dropped them off at the
payphones by the rave and were finally on our way home. No stops. No roadblocks.
Nothing could stop us now.
The drive down the mountain was very wearing on me. I was exhausted, both
physically and mentally. But visions of my comfortable bed kept me going. We
got down the mountain in about 45 minutes. I pulled over about three times to
let cars pass by. I needed to drive at my own pace: slow. I took the 210 to
the 118 and we were back in Simi rather quickly compared to our previous
night's driving time. Natasha slept the whole time. I couldn't blame her.
Besides, I didn't have much energy to make conversation. When we got home, I felt
like kissing the ground. It felt so good to be home. We left the rave around
7AM. It was almost 1PM when we got home. That's six hours of living hell.
We got some McDonald's and my ice cold vanilla shake was so gratifying. I
called work and told them I would be in at 6PM, an hour late. That was fine. I
got about three hours of rest after that marathon. I was so tired I couldn't
fall asleep. I functioned amazingly fine at work. It's amazing how your body
handles itself sometimes.
So what did I learn from this whole experience? Well, for one thing, I'll
never head to a rave map point without first finding it on the map. I'll also be
more aware of freeway signs and where I park my car. I'll make sure I have
an extra sweatshirt in the car at all times. But the most important lesson
I've learned is: never get into a car full of kids who are high on
who-knows-what while driving down a winding mountain road. Amen. |
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