The Old Man and the Sea(foodery)

Hey everyone, sorry it's been awhile. I've been traveling for work to places like Cocoa Beach, Florida, where, outside of my hotel window, there was a pratically-lifesize plastic replica of a pirate ship which spouted water as it basked in the hotel pool and play-area, just next to an indoor/outdoor thatch-roofed bar called Rum Runner's or Caribbean Jack's or Margaritatown Pub and Seafoodery, or something like that. I didn't get much sleep because there were small metal speakers landscaped into the courtyard. They played 70's cocaine ballads by bands like Steely Dan and Chicago 24 hours a day.

Anyway, I will give a full update of my life and travels when I get back from San Diego next week (including an assessment of my first red-eye travel experience, coming up this weekend. Preview: "It's Monday and I'm really tired."). Also, I have a fun story about how I saved the life of one of my favorite old-school punk rockers while on my way to a Keys to the Streets of Fear show in Brooklyn.

In the meantime, if all the press about James Frey hasn't actually driven you to become addicted to drugs and still holds some interest for you, check him out on Oprah today as she performs the talk-show equivalent of a novocaine-free root canal on Frey's soul. Or, just read the highlights on Gawker.

Also, today is the Old Man's birthday. He's 30, which I guess means we'll have to start calling him the Very Old Man. Happy Birthday to my very special Very Old Man.