Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category


8AM LA time

January 28, 2012

In New York this morning, it was 8am LA time and I could be there by this evening said the girl on the airline line.  So I bought that ticket, and I got in that cab but I didn’t make it to the airport like that.


there’s no app for that

January 27, 2012

I theorized that if you are touching down in New Jersey on a Sunday,  3,000 miles from home and less than half way through an exhausting four month “business trip”, this may not be best of weeks.  Monday saw someone step on my laptop, obliterating the screen and cementing my theory  (get it?  New Jersey…cement)

 There’s no app for that



A Karmatic Violation

January 18, 2012

I’m often told, “Only you Dan, that would only happen to you” – well, tonight I found myself saying the same exact same thing to myself.

I arrived home last night at 1AM.  Having not slept in my bed for 28 of the past 30 nights there was a great feeling of relief and anticipation as I walked up the stairs to my room.  I opened the door and was greeted by an odd blue flickering light …I muttered aloud “Oh what the hell”  directed at my own stupidity for having left my computer monitor on for so long –  Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

My self-flagellation woke an unexpected young female sleeping in my bed.  Reciprocating my surprise, she sprung up..naked and profusely “Oh no, I’m sorry, Oh… I’m sorry I’m sorry, Oh crap,  I’m just  so..”

“Wha…. Huh….”  There were no words – The space was a mess, floor  littered with clothes, empty bottles and smell of wet dog – despite having a naked stranger in my room I felt shame for having left the place in such ruins.

Wait a minute, these are not my clothes – These are panties, bras, hairdryers, etc.

She was talking fast saying the same thing, “Oh I am so embarrassed, I am sorry, I am so sorry”.  I was in a daze, reacting far too casually,  I wheeled my luggage over into my closet, and began to remove and sort my dirty laundry from inside my the suitcases I actually heard myself say, “It’s OK, really….don’t worry about it”.

This was all so surreal, every where I looked I could recognize my things but they were out of place, and co-mingled with her shit – her shit was everywhere! So much of it!  WHO WAS SHE?


She was now wearing a long shirt – MY LONG SHIRT, still apologizing and gradually introducing new information.  Her name was Bridgette, she is 24, and is my new housemate who moved in right as I was leaving “….remember you waved to me and said “Hey” that one time”:  and that she works at Trader Joe’s – where she gets a 10% employee discount, which we both agreed was a bit stingy.

Bridgette apparently asked where’s the guy with the Saab and since no one seemed to know where I went or when I might return so she took it upon herself to start watching Netflix in my room at night (because she didn’t have a TV), began sleeping in my bed, enjoyed a couple hot tubs (both solo and with friends, “I hope you don’t mind I had a couple of people over for New Years”), burned my soy candles to the nub and shaved her legs in my shower. However she had no idea why there might be an empty bottle of honey flavored Jack Daniels  in my shoe rack.

I was numb – not yet angry, not yet violated, perhaps a little bit disappointed as I began to realize that this was really happening – in a I’m going to have to clean this all up myself sort of way not in a swanky Penthouse Letters sort of way.

My thoughts as I drifted to sleep were empathetic.  I felt a kinship with women who come home early from a trip only to find a naked woman sleeping in their bed.

The bright side of this fiasco is that it brings closure to the great Netflix mystery.  Over the past couple of months each time I’ve logged in to Netflix there have been a glut of shitty movies showing up in my “Recently Watched List” for the life of me I could not remember watching three full seasons of That 70’s Show.


Can you see the real me?

January 7, 2012

I started this blog in 2008 as a means to update family and friends while I was away on tour – The audience was intimate and my writing was personal, embarrassingly so at times.

Chicken or the egg: Sometime in year two the content of the posts took on a persona (*85% true) and the audience doubled, tripled… People I’ve never met / people from other countries began to read, comment and subscribe – this proved to be both flattering and paralyzing.

In 2011 Chronicles of the Fall had hundreds of viewers per day, thousands per month – this extremely relative popularity (went to/messed with) my head. Now before I click “Publish” I stop to consider the content, consider the audience, consider the consequence – often times I end up saving and re-working drafts until I am so over myself that I end up deleting the entire thing.

If I were to be completely honest instead of just the usual 85%, I’d confess that the constant editing and self-censorship makes me feel like an aimless phoney.  This reflection provided inspiration for the following post.

Last night I checked into the Hyatt Place hotel – in the morning I found my room in the exact same condition as every other space that I occupy by myself for eight or more hours.  I refer to it as “signature sloppy” and this my friends is 100% true.


but I’m doing it again

January 6, 2012
no more sleeping nest made of blankets (hold your pillow) – no more lights on when I get home (turn the TV on before you leave, there’ll be voices when you return) – And no, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing it again

Boarding Group A

January 3, 2012

Boarding Group A, Boarding Position 01 – Do you have any idea what that means?  It means you get to board the plane first, before the old, the handicapped, the families with small children or those who may need additional assistance.

I learned of my fortunate boarding position fourteen hours before boarding my flight – this was a time marked with optimism and high hopes.  Hell, I even took a photo of my goddamn boarding pass.

I arrived to the airport with time to spare and a swagger in my step.  Playing the part of the elitist I did not bother to crowd into the numbered line-up with the rest of the herd assuming that there would be many per-board announcements and warnings, there were not.   I was in the nearby newsstand when I heard “We are now boarding Group A, 1-15”

“WAIT, WAIT, HOLD ON, I’m number one”  Lacking both swagger and self-respect I yelled and pushed my way to the front of the line, holding my boarding pass up like a Spartan shield in the movie “300”, rudely cutting through a sea of the patient passengers in groups B and C.

I made it to the front of the line just as the line began to shuffle towards the jetway.  I handed my prized boarding pass to the agent just as a call came over the radio and an announcement was made that it would be just another couple of moments before boarding could begin.  No joke, I actually heard someone say “Did you see that guy?  Whatta dick”

I was indeed the first passenger to board that evening however what I neglected to factor in was that not every flight begins the boarding process with an empty cabin, this is especially true of flights leaving from tertiary markets in the mid-west…late in the day.

This is what broken dreams look like


Still alive somewhere in America

January 2, 2012

Still alive somewhere in America after a long blog break

Welcomed the new year  in San Diego’s Gas Lamp District.

San Diego is a fantastic city, clean, bright, friendly, fantastic restaurants.  My first meal of 2012 was brunch at the Knotty Barrel where I ordered Deep Fried Twinkies (as a joke) and have not stopped talking about them since (perhaps a sign that I have been on the road too long)