GROUP ADDRESSES RAVE PARTY RISKS

ORLANDO, Fla. (AP) - After two of David Curiel's rave-scene friends died of
drug overdoses, he realized something needed to change.

So two years ago, the 30-year-old industrial designer formed The Future
Tribe Project. The group consists of about 20 rave regulars who try to
educate fellow ravers about drugs and safe sex in a nonjudgmental manner.
They spread the word when bad drugs are circulating and pass out condoms at
raves, the all-night parties that have a backdrop of hypnotic, electronic
dance music.

"We're just trying to save lives," said Curiel, who wears a nose ring,
earrings in each ear and a stud under his lip. "I don't want to see any
more of my friends die."

They've also tried to counter the socially irresponsible image of ravers by
volunteering at a nursing home, an Adopt-a-Highway program, and helping
build homes for Habitat for Humanity. One Future Tribe flier says getting
high is not what raves are about.

"It's about DANCING, the music, having a good time, opening your mind,
connecting with others," the flier reads. "We are not the slacker losers
they want you to believe we are. We are creative, dynamic, young, peaceful,
evolving, beautiful people."

The public relations campaign can't come soon enough. Orlando's rave scene
has become public enemy No. 1 for the community's politicians, law
enforcement officers and religious leaders.

The fans of electronic dance music, usually teen-agers or those in their
early 20s, have been blamed for drug overdoses, sex crimes, vandalism and
excessive noise in the city. Club drugs, such as Ecstasy, GHB and crystal
meth, were responsible for 230 deaths statewide between 1996 and 1999,
according to the Florida Office of Drug Control.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our children are being poisoned," Orange County
Sheriff Kevin Beary said in February during a hearing on the rave scene.

The most recent attack against the rave scene comes from the Orange County
Commission. It is expected to vote in several weeks on an ordinance that
would tightly regulate after-hour venues that don't serve alcohol but
attract segments of the rave scene. The so-called rave clubs would have to
be licensed every year, subject to inspection at any time, and required to
have off-duty police officers and paramedics on the premises.

"The idea is to create consistency between clubs that would cater to
underage folks and those that would cater to adults," said Orange County
Chair Richard Crotty. "Clubs for adults are licensed."

The Orange County ordinance comes almost four years after the Orlando City
Council forced bars and nightclubs to close at 3 a.m. in an effort to stop
raves at after-hour bars. The city's ordinance effectively moved the rave
scene underground into warehouses, parks and private homes, although a few
clubs outside the city began playing rave-style dance music.

One of those places was Cyberzone, outside the city in Orange County. Last
September, Cyberzone patron David Stieb purchased what he thought was
Ecstasy from another patron and died of an overdose. In a wrongful death
lawsuit, his parents accuse Cyberzone employees of throwing Stieb out of
the club while he was overdosing and not seeking medical help for him.

Drug deaths are a prime concern for The Future Tribe Project. It is
affiliated with DanceSafe, an Oakland, Calif.-based group that began
testing drugs in clubs several years ago to stop deaths related to the
consumption of fake or impure drugs. DanceSafe now tests drugs by mail and
posts the results on its Web site.

Members of the Future Tribe Project frown on places like Cyberzone. Still,
they say no more drug use goes on at raves than anywhere else.

"I really, really doubt that you would have an easier time finding drugs at
a rave than you would at your standard Pink Floyd concert or Doobie
Brothers' concert," said Brad Lyons, a 20-year-old University of Central
Florida student and member of the Future Tribe Project.

Legislating the problem away won't work either, Future Tribe members said.

"Everything they've done to shut us down has done nothing to stop the drug
deaths," said Greg Shultea, 22, a light and sound technician.