“Sam, you don’t understand, this party is at a pet cemetery, literally out of some guy’s home. Not a house, but a shack he must have inherited from his uncle.”

Since San Diego is a bedroom for retired athletes and fat Republicans, most parties are destroyed by unwelcomed intrusion. LoveFest ’99 was ruined when lights were forced on, and "Something Different" '99 was shut down an hour into the party. This has caused the San Diego scene to go underground. Sometimes the effort to evade authorities exceeds all precedents.

Usually mentioning a cemetery is enough to scare most people off, however the only thing on my mind was that I couldn’t wait to get to this party. Once admission was paid: $4 and a can of food (for humans or animals? I don’t know) you were patted down by lax security guards, and you went down a huge hill to the cemetery. Sounds of joy and anticipation could be heard on the sloped stretch of road. The hill proved to be a sound barrier, adding to the security and remoteness of the venue. Deep in private property, this party was completely invisible to the outside world, except for the hundreds of cars parked on surrounding streets.

Down the hill was a two-story "house." The house stood on a plateau overlooking the road and the cemetery to the right. A crowd of about 500 was formed, although it seemed like there were more because of the tight space. A trance DJ was located in the garage;

A group of Marines go street style with green sticks away from the rest of the party- all night long
people danced in front of him on the crowded flat driveway bordered by stacks of speakers. Most people stood on the steep hill near the house, but smarter party kids went further, to where the road flattened out. It was further from the speakers, and not as loud, but it was better than dancing on a 35 degree incline.

Climbing up to the house you had a choice of two doors. Straight ahead was the kitchen and the beer. To the right was an off the hook Jungle room. Decorated with a “Scarface” poster over the DJ and befitting graffiti artwork on the walls, the room was ventilated by a fan and four open or broken windows. Going down the hill, before the cemetery, was the Dance Safe drug test center. They tested for drug presence in your pill, and could tell you how much your smint is worth. A few feet away were hookas filled with flavored tobacco. I could feel the brotherly love as I was welcomed into the Pow Wow by a hose I inhaled strawberry flavored smoke from.

Trying to find solitude and quiet I walked around the building to make a phone call. What I encountered was quieter than what I bargained for. In front of me was an expanse of license plate size marks with flowers randomly placed next to them covering a huge field in linear rows. The huge trees seemed alive, protecting passed away pets. Some felt that our presence disrespected “Sparky” and “Lady, ” but I know how excited my dog gets when we have company, so I was sure that these ghosts were happier than those in the horror movie “Pet Cemetery.”

  The vibe was great. This was a get together for all SD party kids. Any room I went to I received a warm hug and a happy handshake. We were best friends; coming together to listen to music, smoke, drink, and talk. Most came expecting a not so great venue, but they knew that for once it was a local SD thing, and gave all chance to chill with friends that they may not have seen in ages. A sense of community came over the party. As the night went on and the crowed thinned, only a few dozen people were left dancing away. The underground feel was at it's peek.

This party was strange, but that only made it better.

Will anyone be brave enough to come back for the next party-on Holloween?