Contrary to what you may have learned in school, civilizations are not remembered for their architecture or their ceramics or their journalism, for that matter. Instead, cultures will always be remembered for their ability to host a top-notch party, a party that can be seen from space. Such is the mission of Mindshare. Billed as an evening of “enlightened debauchery,” Mindshare is the closest thing to a landing pad I have seen in 600 years. By landing pad I mean runway, and by runway I mean something similar to the Nazca Lines pointing the way into the Incan Citadel of Machu Picchu. Machu Picchu has long been regarded as a wonder of the world because of its technological significance, the artifacts found there, and the mystery surrounding the culture who all but vanished from this site without a trace. Archeologists are quick to chalk it up to a smallpox outbreak that wiped out the entire population—a logical conclusion, but far from the truth. How would I know? Because I was there.

I was there during the exciting last moments, but I missed my chance. This is why Mindshare has become so important to me. I have struggled through another 600 years to get to this point again and I swear the third time is a charm, I swear to not miss my chance again. So, what do Mindshare and Machu Picchu have in common?

The last time I missed the boarding call was during one hell of a last hurrah on the Andean mountain of Machu Picchu in Peru. Incas, regalia, appetizers, you name it. A party that lit up the skies. It was the third Thursday of the month; June, 1409. For me, it happened over a batch of psychoactive Ayahuasca brew. Soaked through and through on the brew, I was sitting around the uniquely carved stone slabs having what the Shamans referred to as a “vision powder” forced into my right nostril with something that resembled a blowgun. “Out of body” would be putting it mildly, more like knocked out of my shoes. The Incas knew how to get down and have a good time. The Incas: one civilization sure to have made it to the capstone of culture—that is, a culture technologically ripe to be harvested from the earth.

Contrary to the urban legend, alien abduction is not all anal probes and the experiments you learned from Hollywood. Aliens are not looking for trailer trash turned celebrity. Instead, moving back onto the mothership is the next step in evolution. That’s right, “moving back,” returning to our cosmic roots. A fact that I will gladly corroborate as soon as I can hijack a space shuttle. We are descended from aliens, if you don’t believe me, just look at an iPhone or a Sham Wow, amazing! Aliens are not the urban legends like Bigfoot, or deadly Wal-Mart flip-flops, or Ashley Flores, or Baby Carrots. No, aliens have always had a plan. Aliens are looking for those with the following pre-requisites: 1) above-average curiosity with the aim to advance civilization, 2) desire to party.

I was so high from the Ayahuasca and this primitive angel dust that I was having a moment of clarity blanketed in a state of paralysis. Rowdy Incas stoked the signal fire higher and brighter. The dancing and music swirled into the smoke like a prayer or an air-traffic control tower. The swirling column of smoke reached up through the atmosphere, further than Hubble telescopes could imagine. Reaching up higher until the ship arrived. Granted, my perspective was a bit hazy, but what I remember looked like this: The white light beaming from the spacecraft turned the signal fire into a photo-negative. This was it, the moment I have been waiting for since that time at Giza, sledding down snow-covered pyramids, waiting since ancient Egypt when the last pick-up occurred. I missed the boat then and when the light and sound of Incas shouting a joyous holler subsided, everyone was gone, disappeared, except for me. The roaring fire now reduced to a few embers, the evening quiet save the gurgle of the Urubamba River below. What! Why not me? I had my boarding pass, my alien phrasebook. Why, damn it, why stranded here again?

One thing was certain, the next time that spacecraft comes through to harvest the sophisticated thinkers off the Earth, you can bet your ass I am going to be there. And that’s when I heard about Mindshare. Well, not quite then, but some 600 years and several civilizations later. Now, here in the present.

Pictures courtesy: Catherine Wygal of Four Eyes Photography

When I emerged from a semiconscious stupor blindfolded in a Freon-like haze, I was with the editors at FORTH Magazine. Overgrown weeds covered the sidewalk. One of the editors, Marco, was speaking in Italian as we walked through a cautious urban area. Hearing Italian, I thought I had curved through space-time to the so-called “Mystery Schools” of Galileo or Da Vinci. My Italian is rusty at best, but good enough to know that Marco was not talking about telescopes or Mona Lisa. He told me the date: June 18, 2009. Marco said the part of town that we have come to is “right out of that scene from the Terminator,” and that he expected, “to see a naked Arnold Schwarzenegger transported from the future ready to reek cyborg havoc on the labyrinth of downtown L. A.” Like I said, my Italian is shaky at best, but I thought “cyborg” was the same in any language.

The blindfold was removed like some dirty reference to Plato’s Cave and, sensing the last rays of sunlight disappear, I watched the stars come out. Night hovered over the Fashion District like a, like a, spaceship. The Fashion District: an unusual name for one of the more grittier-seeming aspects of downtown. I figured aliens are smart enough to appear in the most noticeably inconspicuous of places. Or maybe aliens are just smart enough to know that luring in the creative types is the first step at rebuilding neighborhoods.

I have been searching for this opportunity since the 15th century. Now, with the aid of some of the editors at FORTH Magazine I found myself here. The last time this window opened up, the opportunity came and went in a flash. A blink of the eye. Determined not to miss it this time, I was ready for a third-in-twenty-five-lifetimes chance. A turn took us into the alley and I saw it. They called it the old Firestation and there was a vehicle parked out front. The earthlings from FORTH Magazine referred to it as a “Taco Truck from Border Grill,” but I was sure it would soon be converted into a transport shuttle when the mothership returned. I always knew there was a correlation between carne asada and quantum enlightenment. Bringing the tortilla to the people; an unparalleled achievement for this age.

Once inside the first thing I noticed was the open bar. Gin & Tonic? Don’t mind if I do. A bit more astringent than the Ayahuasca brew, but delivers the same punch. The open bar has been a sure marker of intelligent life throughout the ages. The open bar is an important element to any civilization because it helps wash down the notion that aliens are indeed coming to pluck the curious and inspired from the tyranny of mid-level management, smog, and traffic.

Another sign that I had come to the right place became clear when I saw the bicycle-powered blender. It’s a small step, but an amenity that even the most advanced extra-terrestrial life forms would appreciate because, as you may not know, in space they raise cyborgs to serve cocktails. Here on Earth, we groom them for public office.

So far a great party, and then I arrived at an auditorium to watch the lectures. Lectures?! I know that using “lecture” and “party” in the same sentence may not sound like fun, but aliens approve of stimulated conversation, decadent dialogue. It’s all part of the plan, really. Like I said, there is a lot of down time in celestial travel, so small talk about life lessons helps to pass the space-time continuum. What better place than Mindshare to brush up on these topics?

Guest speakers for this evening included Jessica Jackley, the Founder of KIVA, which is “the first person-to-person, micro-lending website that empowers individuals to lend to unique entrepreneurs around the globe.” It’s easy to see how Jessica will be recruited by the aliens. Oh, by the way, aliens do have a preference for the nice people from the non-profit crowd. Makes sense, wouldn’t you want to be stuck on a ship with the benevolent rather than a bunch of #$%holes and their Ponzi schemes?

Next at the podium was Geoffrey Sommer, aviator and risk analyst, whose presentation KEEPING CALM WHEN THE KILLER COMET COMETH made me certain that I was at the right place to hitchhike into the next galaxy. Aviator and Risk Analyst; how do you get a business card with that badass title on it? Of course the aliens would be looking for someone with flight experience. I don’t know why he refers to the spacecraft as a comet. I guess audiences tend to be a little skittish when you tell them that they are about to be abducted by intelligent life forms from other planets. A good captain this one will become.
Ariel Blumenthal, Composer and Founder of the organization Sentient Music for Media spoke on a certain sort of architecture with MUSIC ENVIRONMENT AS A DESIGN ELEMENT. Nobody would argue that music IS an important design element especially for those long commutes hibernating across space-time.

I looked at my watch excited; any minute now, hyper-thrusters at warp speed. I knew I had come to the right place. I grabbed another stiffly poured Gin and Tonic and waited for the next presenter.

To a packed house of L. A.’s best and brightest, Dr. Alex Benzer, author of the Tao of Dating, delivered a charming talk wondering WHY SMART PEOPLE HAVE A DIFFICULT TIME DATING. Deep-space dating tips designed as tools for effectively populating other planets with the best and brightest.

Last in the line up was Jason Porath from Dream Works Animation whose SHORT HISTORY OF HOLLYWOOD’S GENITALIA COVER UPS was a perfect way to wrap up the syllabus for space travel. What do genitalia and light speed have in common? Well, nothing, but even those who are about to be abducted by aliens need a sense of humor.

I looked at my watch, this has got to be it, this has got to be the place. It had all of the right ingredients: gin, tonic, lectures, blenders. All of the cosmos had lined up and still no sign of the ship. I kept waiting.

I ventured out for another Gin and Tonic and noticed a room with green laser beams streaking in a web of light—a “laser maze” in which inebriated intellectuals attempt a rite of passage by making it from one side of the room to the other without breaching the beams. Of course, one must learn to dodge deadly lasers if one plans to travel through space with aliens. Smoke roses periodically to give definition to the photons which danced like a few of the Mindshare attendees. The party rose to a fever pitch, aided by the up-tempo electronica beating through the speakers. Keeping time were rows of candles pulsing, the rhythm was like a Morse code to the stars above.

I met a girl, Anna, a chemist, and when I made a joke about her being able to split atoms to provide fuel cells to power galactic rockets, she shot me that all-too-familiar “Top Secret” look. Please, spare me your Area 51 jibber-jabber. She thought that I was flirting or that the Gin and Tonics I was double-fisting had gotten the better of me. One lecture’s lessons learned: The Tao of Dating begins with not slurring your words.

It’s late in the evening and the party was still in full swing. I decided to walk out for a breath of air. There in the alley, I realized that I was very hungry. I thought it best to grab a bite to eat before the spacecraft arrived. I went to the Border Grill Taco Truck. Along with an order for carne asada, I asked the chef what time to expect the big event. I asked with a clever wink. He served me a confused look and pointed to the hot sauce. I sat down to enjoy my tacos while watching men and women cavort with one another—neither group knowing that the party was about to take a turn. If digesting the tacos made me a little sleepy, then the gin & tonics made me sedated. I thought I would close my eyes for just a minute. All I needed was a little nap to get ready for the processing that was expected when brought on board. A nap, a blink of the eye. YAWN!

I woke the next morning to a homeless guy asking me if he could “just hold on to my shoes since they fit so well.” The alley and the Firehouse were empty, no sign of the Taco Truck, no signs of anyone but the vagabond.

NNNNNNOOOOOOOOO! I screamed. The homeless man thought I was yelling because of the shoes. He agreed to give them back. He didn’t know that I missed the boat again. I asked him if the aliens came, if they left a forwarding address. He gave me some spare change and returned my shoes. “I don’t need your pity, what I need is a spaceship!” The street dweller shuffled away leaving my by myself, on this planet, alone. Then, with a smack in the face, the wind blew a flyer announcing Mindshare’s next event. Another chance, a chance I won’t miss.

Mindshare: sharing the secrets of the universe since Prometheus and Dionysus were good friends. Well, OK, maybe not that long, but Mindshare has been around long enough to mix wine with wonder. Celebrating the fact that education is not alienation, it is community. And this community is how Mindshare will get me closer to that cosmic cruiser. The camaraderie of curiosity is a common bond and Mindshare seeks to develop this. Once on the starcraft, distances between galaxies can be great. So, bridging the space between humans may be their final frontier.

You don’t have to miss the boat, the next Mindshare event is on July 16. For more information or to reserve a ticket for this event, go to http://www.mindshare.la/