IT''S NOT LIKE THE L.A. CAR scene, where you are what you drive," says Sherri Walker, editor and publisher choosing and a of The Catalina Islander. A quiet woman with short blond hair, she sits on a bench by the sand, steps from her office door. She looks up Avalon''s chipper main street at the line of nearly identical white golf carts parallel-parked shredder nose-to-tail along the curb. "No one points and says, choosing `Wow, look at that golf cart.''"In 1979, suffering from choking traffic congestion and a critical shortage of parking, this mile-and-a-half-square town passed City Ordinance No. 656, mandating negative population growth for cars; two must leave Catalina Island before another is allowed on. "The last person to get a new auto permit signed up 13 years earlier," says Bill Loomis, a the harried chipper local vehicle clerk, "and the wait is getting longer." Only 718 cars remain, shredder but choosing the ordinance does permit one "autoette," in official parlance, per dwelling unit, so Avalon has slowly become a city of golf carts. About 1,300 populate the town.

That''s what I''m trying to a build. I don''t know where the critical speed chipper is that inspires such madness and communion, and life, really, but I know the table just might find it. And when that critical level of intensity is reached, there will be conversations, shredder sculptures, readings, and parties like never before. Less choosing than a month on the road, on a hot day in late February, the grungy banditos nervously approached the inspection station at the Arizona border. They were driving a table. They were about to get busted.Having spent the last week crossing the Mojave, Scott, my friend and copilot for the first thousand a miles, and I were grungier than usual, chipper and the table looked down right impossible to have a respectable conversation around. The left rear tire had lost half its air and the land-boat listed dangerously. shredder The windshield had long since fallen out, somewhere, I think, between Barstow and Bakersfield. Although we''d duct taped the windshield frame back together, we''d jammed the wiper switch on, so that the blue wipers choosing waved incessantly in empty space. a Such quantities of chili beans, chipper bacon grease, and wine had spilled on the table that, as we slowed down to be inspected, a great swarm of flies descended upon us. I peered through the bugs splattered on my safety glasses at the fine specimen of authority blocking our way. We had been stopped several times already and I was wondering how in the world were we going to convince him that the table, despite appearances, was a socially responsible invention designed to foster a utopian shredder sense of community.

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