Photos

I got goosebumps this afternoon. Full-on, full-bodied goose bumps. I was driving over the mountains into Poipu (Poy-poo) Beach. The Pacific spread out before me, blinding diamonds on the waves, Oasis’ “Go Let It Out” as loud as it gets on the Explorer’s CD player, a few stray raindrops dotting the windshield. Paradise. I was…

Some 30,000 feet over the Pacific Ocean, Hawaiian Airlines flight #3 carries me westward towards Honalulu, then Kauai. Because I’m alone, it’s almost like it’s not happening. Despite the 300+ passengers dozing around me, I feel like a tree in an empty forest. It’ll be real when I get there, on the patio with a…

This morning, running under the Santa Monica Pier — a vision straight out of “Lost Boys” — I passed an sunburned, unshaven homeless man — straight out of “Fletch” — who screamed, “The whole God damned world is going up in flames!” This evening, walking into dinner at La Luna in the Fairfax District of…

I’m in Santa Monica, in my hotel room, watching TNN. At dinner with my friend Matt and his wife Julie-Anne, I looked up and said, “I’m sure this happens all the time to you guys, but that’s Oliver Stone.” Pretty cool. Pretty L.A. I love and hate this town. Driving to MTV’s Santa Monica offices,…

I just rode in from the Upper East. Despite the humidity, it was a beautiful ride, and I’m glad I snuck it in prior to leaving for L.A. I zipped down Fifth, past the Guggenheim; past the Met, swimming in pastel light; downtown towards the Empire State, glistening red, white and blue just over the…

I just had one of those classic laugh-out-loud all by yourself moments. I’m on my knees cleaning the bathtub cranking Neil Diamond’s “Hot August Night,” totally rockin’ that shit out. The chorus to “Solitary Man” hits and I’m, like, dancing in the bathroom. “Don’t know if I will but until I can find her /…