Believe it or don't: Before Burning Man 99, I had never heard the "Chicken Dance" song. (Shameful head-hanging ensues.) I had heard of the legendary Playa Chicken, however. These two fowly things conjoined one night on a bicycle trip across the playa. A small, glowing enclosure loomed. Inside, lit by black lights, were a couple of signs: DO YOU TRUST THIS CHICKEN?? THINK OF A QUESTION! PRESS HERE [indicating the chicken's foot] TAKE AN ANSWER GOT IT?" To the right of the Chicken was a basket of folded fortunes. (Hmm ... "Folded Fortunes": book title? Band name?) Ah. The chicken. Well. The chicken in question: a stuffed chicken. Big deal... ...UNTIL you pressed that foot, at which the Playa Chicken danced to the funky "Chicken Dance." It danced normal speed. It danced fast. It danced slow. I was mesmerized. Screw the fortune-telling. I couldn't get that song out of my head. I walked around for days to the "Chicken Dance" song. I believed that the song itself was my fortune. Often, I would hum the song. I became the Playa Chicken. Yes. Yes, I did. No one struck me. But many threatened to.

"Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh / Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh / Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh SQUAWK SQUAWK!"