Pubdate: Sun, 02 Jul 2000 Source: Chicago Sun-Times (IL) Copyright: 2000 The Sun-Times Co. Contact: 401 N. Wabash, Chicago IL 60611 Feedback: http://www.suntimes.com/geninfo/feedback.html Website: http://www.suntimes.com/ Author: Shu Shin Luh RAVERS WANT TO KEEP THEIR PARTIES GOING Now they advertise in record stores. The psychedelic fliers announcing raves are stacked next to the weekly papers, right by the door. For veteran ravers, who have waited in the frigid cold outside a coffee shop to get the address and time of an illicit warehouse party, covertness was half of the lure. Now, it's disappearing fast. In the vernacular of pop culture, circa 1990, there used to be this thing called a rave, a night of blaring techno music and dancing, drugs and glow sticks, all under the leaky ceiling of an abandoned warehouse in the worst part of town. Now, a decade later, this underground utopia of music, love and euphoria is being gobbled up by mainstream commercialism. Clubs are hosting "rave nights." Middle-schoolers are buying rave-inspired fashions at the Gap. The rave scene is even the focus of three current films: "Groove," "Human Traffic" and "Better Living Through Circuitry." But as rave followers emerge from the underground, they find themselves scrutinized and criticized. They feel trapped. They want to preserve the edginess of their lifestyle, the all-night dancing, even the drugs. But they know that the drugs, Ecstasy and GHB and Special K, earn them a bad name. They know lives have been lost. But they want to do their own policing, and they want mainstream society's blessing to do so. On a Saturday night, at the Rainbo Roller Rink on North Clark Street, a thousand young people gather to forget the burden they carry. Tonight, they just want to live a lifestyle they love. * * * 10 p.m., Clarke's Diner on Belmont "It's kind of this cartoon world," said Brian Begley, flashing his Cheshire-cat grin. "It's the way people want to be, but don't express." Begley, a 21-year-old computer technician, is a two-year veteran raver. But he doesn't use the word because it's blacklisted by mainstream society. Once upon a time, raves, a 1980s British import, were hidden from the media and law enforcement. That was before Chicago's aldermen in May set a $10,000 maximum fine for DJs and promoters for unlicensed raves. For Begley, a rave isn't just a party. It is a way of life that starts with a new pair of baggy pants. Then some gel to slick back his blond hair. He brought along his "carpet" hat--a brown fishing hat so fuzzy the nickname is well-deserved--in case his hair gets out of hand. Girls, he says, look more "candy"--cutesy, that is. "I was going to wear my angel wings," said Jillian Lynn, a 21-year-old education major at DePaul University, "but it's pouring out. I don't want them ruined." "Well, I also don't let her get too candy," added her 19-year-old boyfriend, Eric Kinsley, also known by his DJ name, Liquid Giraffe. Kinsley, lured into the scene three years ago, is a "straight-edge raver." He doesn't smoke, hardly drinks, doesn't do the drugs. He says he's there purely for the music, the atmosphere and the friends he meets. These days, more are being cautious, as popular rave drugs are laced with unknown chemicals by black market dealers out to make a quick buck. Just last month, two suburban teens died from overdoses of PMA, a more potent and dangerous form of Ecstasy that has killed in Canada and Australia. The deaths have alarmed parents and their children. In Chicago, "Chi-Town Kids That Care" formed, modeled after the national DanceSafe, which tests drugs and passes out fliers on drug safety at raves. Ravers know the popular drugs like walking medical encyclopedias. They say they know the risks of each one, and also how to help someone who is having complications. "Once a month," answered Brian Glasnapp. That's his self-imposed rule on using Ecstasy. "I go to raves because I love dancing, not because of the drugs. When I started walking over here, I felt the adrenaline just coming." * * * Midnight, Rainbo Roller Rink Tonight, the rave is called "Pride, A Deeper Love." On the weekend of the Gay Pride Parade, the slogan is in sync with the rave philosophy: blind tolerance. Perhaps that's one reason young people--teens and young adults, black and white, gay and straight--wait outside the Rainbo Roller Rink for their all-night escape from reality. Three security guards--all off-duty Chicago police officers--tower over the teenage ravers, who hover around the metal doors. Chicago police can take secondary jobs, and many do. But this specific job may seem to clash, because narcotics are present. This event was properly licensed. And, as one said, at least "we keep the kids safe." Rave organizers hope the police presence at the door keeps the law outside. But Chicago police spokesman Sgt. Robert Cargie said off-duty officers have to "take police action, the least of which is calling 911," if they see anything illegal. And at the Cook County Sheriff's Department, spokesman Bill Cunningham says officers will raid no matter who is at the door. * * * The cost of operating the rave comes to $40,000, including the colorful fliers, hot DJs like Jevon Jackson and diva Barbara Tucker, and three months of nonstop phoning, e-mailing and networking. "It's worth it because we give these kids a good creative outlet," said the 19-year-old organizer, Bob Klosinski, himself a raver since 13. "Kids these days don't know how to express themselves, so they bundle it up and explode." Klosinski has stared this teenage angst in the face before. He has had run-ins with the law. He has gotten rid of his body piercings, and made amends with his parents, but he's not ready to give up the rave scene. "This is about finding out who you are," he said. "It's time to be happy, live a good life and do good things." Still, the rave is not the same as in the old days, not with an 18-and-over age limit, the event permit and the insurance. * * * 3:30 a.m., on the dance floor They look like giant toddlers at a Halloween party gone wild. Through the curtain of artificial smoke and laser lights come pig-tails bouncing, faces glittering silver, and arms lacing the air like ribbons swaying in the wind. One boy in an orange vest twirls colorful glow sticks. Three hours into the rave, the energy on the wooden floor of the roller rink builds to a fevered crescendo. The heartiest of ravers squeeze their way to the front by the DJ, where they lean against the speakers and loll like sauna bathers, soaking in sound. Others sit by the wall, pupils dilated. "He's ass-planted," one raver explained, as he rubbed some menthol gel on his hand to cover the nose and mouth of a raver high on Ecstasy. "If you take too much E at a time, you get that way. This stuff helps you breathe easier." Drug suppliers, typically wearing "Ecko" brand sweat shirts, shuffle around the dance floor, chanting softly, "Want some pills? K?" Tonight, only a small minority of ravers seem to be high. Perhaps it's because the group is older. "I'm all about ID'ing, anything to give us a good rep," Begley said. "Some of the 15-year-olds, they don't know how to be responsible." Ecstasy, a hallucinogen, is popular because the music has a mechanized, relentless beat and shimmering soundscapes. To someone "rolling" on Ecstasy, it creates a magical sensory experience. But it is also illegal. Chicago police arrested 62 people at a rave in February for disorderly conduct and drug use. The Cook County sheriff's office made 11 drug arrests in May in Palatine. Other arrests have been made in south suburban Harvey. But tonight, these young ravers, sweat dripping down their faces, are focused on the music and swirling glow sticks. Tonight, they are worshipping a lifestyle that sheds all social norms and creates a utopia--if only for a night. * * * 8 a.m., "The Rocks," Foster Avenue Beach The daylight cracks its first smiles on the exhausted partygoers, dangling their feet over the rocks, comparing notes on the parties from the night before. Usually there are one to five raves on a weekend in the Chicago area. Under broad daylight, away from the watchful eyes of security guards, the setting is more relaxed and less orderly. Some teenagers rolling on Ecstasy chew on pacifiers to stop the involuntary teeth-grinding. Others walk around like zombies, looking for dealers. "Got any K?" "Got any pills?" In these early morning hours, fishermen are already on the Lake Michigan pier, waiting patiently for their catch. Runners are training for the next marathon. So these young people in their bright-colored jerseys and sagging jeans aren't alone. Still, the smell of marijuana wafts through the air. The money exchanges look suspicious. But childish grins give away their ages. The scene's faithful resent that the drug stigma has clung to raves. They contend that it is a culture celebrating acceptance in a teenage world filled with pressures. They want people to understand that. Raves and music industry leaders have met with Chicago aldermen to explain why this lifestyle draws thousands. But some ravers worry that they will sacrifice tolerance for acceptance. Some would rather brave the scrutiny than relinquish their outsider nature. They accept drugs as part of the culture, but they don't want anyone to get hurt. The lifestyle is a choice they've made. It's a choice they're sticking with. Hey, where are the "doughnut eaters," they say. They comin' to bust us yet? - --- MAP posted-by: Larry Stevens