There is so much to say about Slab City but the truth is that it will never make sense to you unless you go there and experience it. I’m sad to say that we’ve left it for the season, but not sad to say goodbye to the scorpions, snakes and rats that made their debut as the temperature soared.
If you ever go, please don’t do a Slab City drive by the way most snowbird RVers and tourists do. Turn off the car, get off your butt, go for a walk and feel the energy of a stripped-down lifestyle that isn’t beholden to the rat race.
Winter 2015 was a great year for the Slabs. The atmosphere was friendly, the amenities thriving. One look past the garbage left by sloppy Slabbers and you’ll see that there’s a spirit and a freedom like nowhere else.
A Poem in Honor of the Lizard Tree Library Revival
My favorite aspect was the new energy at the Lizard Tree Library, brought on by the effervescent Cornelius and everyone else who contributed toward making it a thriving hive of creativity. I wrote the following poem for the Thursday night spoken word gathering as a way to thank them.
Long Live the Lizard Tree Library
A rickety shelter built from paper and glue
Brittle from neglect
Stands alone in the desert
Sad and wrecked
Would anyone try to save it
In an iPad age?
Does anyone know the magic
the way that good books affect?
Watching the pages wither
like a junkie slowly dying
Mind-blowing conversations faded
the InterNut imploded
Books got lost, shelves fell down
the Library’s beauty disintegrating
while Miss Rosalie patiently waited
The music got quiet, but the magic wasn’t really dead
Slowly, as the summer heat faded
The Library was burrowing into some wise folks heads
“It’s not just about books!” these ambitious Slabbers said
“It’s a place to think big!”
A shady spot to grow and share
a respite from the madness
nurtured by pot’s fragrant aroma in the air
From all different corners
a convergence occurred
Books got reshelved
Artistic inspiration stirred
Strangers to friends, family cultivated
Ideas sprang forth
The honor of Chief Librarian, transferred
The little library that will never die
is now a destination
A place for community
and good conversation
Bring a book, take a look
at the ideas on the wall
Play a game
Grab a snack
Under the shade tree nook
Relax, what’s your hurry?
The Lizard Tree Library
is alive and resurrected
Stay a while
and have another look
(a poem by Rene Agredano)
Goodbye for now Slab City. Hello reality.