For as long as I can remember, I have been interested in cars – loved cars, really.  And the best month for car lovers, when I was young, was October. It still is. October is the month that the new cars for next year hit the showrooms.

When I was a young teenager, before I could drive, we would walk down to what was then known as Auto Row and visit each dealership. It was thrilling and I still remember it today. Then the dealers were all American except for one small dealer, British Motors, that sold Jaguars, MGs, Triumphs, and, I think, Alfa Romeos. Cars like Chevrolet, Plymouth, DeSoto, and Oldsmobile each had their own dealer and we would spend an afternoon looking at all of them. Now, according to Auto Week, there are 340 cars and trucks on the market and no way to walk each dealership. Even more thrilling.

My first actual car getting experience was when I was fourteen. My mother asked my advice on what car to get and I suggested a Buick Century. That was 1954 and the Buick Century was a hotrod with the small Buick body and a big Buick – the awesome Roadmaster – 322 cubic inch V8 that put out 177 raging HP.

My mother agreed – I was the family car expert after all -  and bought a white (with a bluish cast so, in some lights, it looked pale, pale blue) brand new, hardtop convertible.

Two years later, I got my first car or, more accurately, collection of car parts. A five window deuce. (Technically, a deuce is a 1932 Ford and my car was a Plymouth, but What the hell; it was close enough to call a deuce.)  I also acquired, separately – I think -  a ford flathead engine with 3 Stromberg 97 carburetors, and a 3 speed Lincoln-Zephyr transmission. Eventually, the parts became a car that looked much like the car below, including the black primer and channeled body, except nowhere as good. My deuce ran, but not really good enough to get anywhere.

Meanwhile, my grandparents were getting old and had stopped driving so I bought their 1948 Pontiac 4 door sedan – what the hell, again, if it had been Italian, it would have been called a quatroporte – and that was the car that first took me backpacking.

According to a very interesting book review at Slate, Right now the wealthiest one percenters grab 24 percent of annual income in this country. That's even more than the 15 to 18 percent they hauled in during the robber baron era of the Carnegies, Rockefellers and Vanderbilts.

I think that most of us know that the rich are getting richer and everybody else is treading water or getting poorer but I had now idea that the inequality was this severe. The top one percent of the wealthiest people in America make essentially 1/4 of all the income in America. True, the Bush years were very good to the very wealthy, but the trend started way before Bush and it is still going on under that socialist, Obama..

I think that this is a big part of the reason so many people are so angry. I know that I am angry about it.

First, as an aside, let me – Steve Stern – make a few comments. I have been to Burning Man twice, in an unofficial capacity, let's say. I think it was eighteen and sixteen years ago. The first time was when we were taking some friends to the Black Rock playa and unexpectedly ran into Burning Man. The second time was when we bailed out of a camping trip in Yosemite – because of a forest fire – and then said What the hell, let's go to the Black Rock and check out Burning Man. 

I was blown away by the pageantry and ritual of it and – I am sort of embarrassed to say – I have never been back. Kirk sent some pictures to his brother, Mike Moore, who then passed a couple on to me and – circuitously – I asked Kirk to put some of his pictures here. Check out his website, he is a suburb photographer, especially if you like travel photography. End aside.

Burning Man 2010

After years of procrastination I finally got to Burning Man. I credit three buddies who talked me into it by renting an RV. Thanks, guys…definitely worth it.

Burning Man? Difficult to describe.

Try to imagine a juried art exhibition on steroids, Time Bandits, Mad Max, Woodstock, and Star Wars all mixed up and plopped down on a remote desert with 50,000 campers for a week. It’s art, partying, music, creativity, freedom, community, and whatever you want it to be, with the vast playa as your canvas.  It met and exceeded all my expectations.

As a photographer, Burning Man was a treasure trove of imagery. I was visually attracted to everything…but especially to the juxtaposition of the harsh, arid, and boundless Black Rock Desert with the art projects (some funded by honorariums, most self-funded). The pristine desolation made for a uncommon but appropriate backdrop.

Add to that the DMV (Dept of Mutant Vehicles),

the dress code (none whatsoever),

the 24/7 techno music, and the inevitable dust storms…there was a myriad of photographic subjects, all day and all night long. I don’t want to jam up Steve’s Blog, so this is just a taste of what it was like.

To see more photos go here:

http://web.me.com/kirkmoore/Burning_Man_2010/125_photos.html

 Kirk Moore

For more info…check out their website: http://www.burningman.com/

For a historical timeline: http://www.burningman.com/whatisburningman/about_burningman/bm_timeline.html