Desert dwelling in the Los Angeles mindset comes with the thought of 60’s Rat Pack hedonism and the era that did not take alcoholism into account or ranch-land pronouncements of fur and fringe suede and psychedelic splendors of next level delights. Over the weekend I had my Joshua Tree cherry popped as I forwent my typical Palm Springs vision of the desert. Heading on the 10 east past the sign 111 and winding through the roads to Pioneertown to celebrate Madre Mezcal’s latest offering, Madre’s Desert Water a new canned confection which acted as a contemporary to the current need for light selzer infused spirit.
It was a rooted sensation celebrating the sun in the sky, plants of the earth and endless sea of stars as the evening drifted into cooler weather. The Red Dog Saloon carried on the party as I let go, and enjoyed the receptionless evening using up polaroids to fortify my analog needs. It was the perfect mood to go all in to enjoying the set from Reverberation Radio that melded other worldly disco while sipping on Paloma cocktails’s dusted with Madre mezcal’s smokey twang. A walk back to the Pioneertown Motel further grounded the crowd as the night’s entertainment was simple and meaningful, presenting the glory of the stars, I gazed at the various wonders of the cosmos. At one point I am certain a UFO came and went leaving a trail of light flying behind.