What is the measure of a man? Is a life lived with out danger worth less then one lived with out fear? Does a man's adventures make him great, or is the adventure of just getting out of bed more then any man needs.
I entered the desert like a babe wandering into a pit of vipers. The vipers were not the assorted gaggle of Greeks and freaks who inhabited this magic land, but my own hubris. I had always seen my life as charmed, blessed with style and grace, an incredible attractiveness the opposite sex, and of course no one could dance as I could. I quickly impressed all I came across, my intellect, my wit, and my crazy leg dances amazed and astounded all I came in contact with.
They all had heard the whispers of the one called "Chas" and I did not disappoint my legions of fans. I was on top of the world, as one evening I moved from Rave to Rave. Laughing at those who thought they could dance. More then once I heard a whispered gasp of "He is a Dancer!" I was mad with power as my moves became more complete, more intense with each passing moment. I leapt. I spun. I was alive with the energy of dance! I was one with the music! I was like unto a GOD!
When mortals reach to the stars, when they claim god hood, when they fly too close to the sun, they fall... and often die for their hubris... and though I am the one called Chas...I was no different then those ancient heroes... The sand of the playa was as ancient as the earth, and as I moved upon it, the earth beat me back to my place among the other mortals. My knee, bent side ways, pulling the tendons from their moorings in my legs, and crippling me. The pain was like nothing I had known not before or since. It was not just the pain of the injury but the psychic pain caused when one realizes just how fragile these vessels of mud truly are.
Crawling to my feet, I refused to yield. I began dancing again. I felt the pain as the gods fought with all their might to put me in my place. Valiant was the struggle, and heroic was my effort, but in the end... I am not a god. I am but a man... and I too can fall.
The next day, my leg was worse. I could barely move, and my friends took me into the nearest doctors office to see if science could heal the fallen Chas. The doctor looked at my leg, and saw that there was little he could do. He bound my leg, with a brace to keep it strong, gave me a cane and sent me on my way.
Back in the desert, I was a broken man. My greatest gift stolen from me. I turned to Zima to comfort my sorrows... but soon.. .I could hear the music... and one thing that not I nor the gods had counted on is the power of the music. The force of the dance was still with me. It's vessel may have been damaged, and my own confidence shaken, but when the music commands I must obey.
Soon I was back on the floor, one leg shy of the man I once was, but with a cane that spun with the ferocity of a wounded mongoose, and one good leg that could do more then most of the two legged competition on the playa. I was alive again, the music was with me, and power was mine. Though the gods tried to place me back among the mortals, it was beyond there control. The dance was with me, the music was part of me, and I was the true lord of the dance again.
A year has passed since that fateful night on the playa. Although adventure has scared me, I would not be Chas had I not walked the path of danger and adventure in that mystical desert. It took a long time for my leg to heal, and I may never be the whirling dervish that I once was. But forever, I shall be the dancing man of the Desert, and I shall continue to bring that goodness of the dance, and magic of the music to all who seek my counsel in that barren land of Burning Man.
Chas "The Menace" Esser
