Cheeky tiki tacky rules at Coachella kickoff

Only in the desert could a pond about half the size of a football field be the centerpiece of yacht club. But there it was, shimering in the warm evening, littered with detritus, the body of water that apparently gives the Corona Yacht Club its name. For the second year in a row, it hosted Filter Magazine's pre-Coachella party, with hundreds being ferried to site in shuttle buses to enjoy free whiskey, free vodka and Red Bull, free beer, free T-shirts, free photography and -- of all things -- free copies of the magazine.

It was typically festive, for those who like to start a long weekend with a hangover. The Yacht Club's vibe -- we'll call it "cheeky tiki tacky" -- was perfect for the madness, even if Slash, who was wandering around, looked as if he were searching for directions to a real party.

At the end of the evening, the booze was gone, the shirts were in short supply, but the table holding the stacks of the latest issue of Filter had barely been touched. Who comes to these things to read, anyway?

Photo: Kevin Lenhart of the L.A. band Division Day laments the dearth of facilities at the Corona Yacht Club.