The First Four Days...

This is the Cosmic Van (a '78 Volkswagon Bus)...





And this is the Cosmic Van at the Cosmic mechanic...





...and THAT has primarily been the story of Dylan & Tom's Excellent Adventure thusfar.

Saturday started off easy enough until the Cosmic fan belt went kaput in the middle of the Arizona desert. And to make matters worse it went kaput near the "town" of Tenopah. All I can say about Tenopah is that it's everything you'd want in a horror movie setting: nothing but vast desert in every direction, unpaved roads, abandoned homes, a permeating sense of eeriness as the sun set, and not a real life human being to be seen. It didn't take us long to make the decision that Tenopah was not for us, so we took our chances and booked it 65 miles to Phoenix with no fan belt before the engine completely gave out. We had the van Cosmic towed to the nearest mechanic specializing in German-made cars; of course it was Satuday night and they wouldn't open till Monday, which gave us plenty of time to get to know and love Tempe, Arizona.

Tempe is everything a college town should be: a hip 'downtown' area on the edge of the Arizona State campus, a booming nightlife, club after bar after club packed with college students on a nightly basis, a very nice campus amidst the rock and cacti, a strong sense of school spirit (Go Sun Devils!), and more beautiful women than I have ever seen in one place in my entire life. Basically, it is everything La Jolla and UCSD are NOT. {Except for those girls in the UCSD Theatre Dept.. Damn they're sexy ;)} Tom and I thoroughly enjoyed Saturday night in Tempe with the help of some lovely ladies we met at an ATM. They served as our Tempe/ASU guides during our stay and enjoyed drinks with us on Saturday night and sushi on Sunday night.

Of course, things weren't completely swell during our time in Tempe. On Monday our rental car got towed outside of a Starbucks. With the towing company only accepting cash, we had to cab it to a Bank of America and then back to the towing lot. Our cabbie was quite a character: a friendly semi-retired Navy vet who enjoyed blasting pro-America, pro-Jesus tunes ("JESUUUUUS IN AMEEEERICAAAA...") while telling misogynistic knee-slappers such as "What's the difference between Big Foot and a smart woman? ...they have pictures of Big Foot" and "Why do women have small feet? ...So they can be closer to the kitchen sink."

Anyway, we got the Cosmic Van back this morning, decided that the road trip actually started TODAY, and tried to start from scratch. We hit up the U. of Arizona in Tucson where we were mobbed by underclassmen for free gear (When you're giving free t-shirts to college students, they don't really care what's on the front) and hiked several hours through southern New Mexico and west Texas (the asshole of America) where we saw a whole lotta nothing. Tomorrow we make the long trek to Dallas, then Austin from there. Hopefully fun times lie ahead. Until then...

Oh, the agony of being a 20-something...

Several friends (usually over facebook chat) have recently expressed their frustration with life in general. These frustrations have typically been brought upon by the usual social pressures that bear down on the post-grad (e.g. deciding 'what you want to do with your life' and convincing the parents that you're on the right track to actually doing it). These are thoughts I tossed around myself recently, especially after losing my job in July. The weight of the world seemed to be bearing down on me like I'd never before experienced, but what these conversations with my friends showed me was that I was not alone. Not by a long-shot.

A buddy from UCSD/acting class and I just had a long conversation about about his feeling completely lost. I told him what I now tell everyone with whom I have similar talks. Feeling "lost" is what being in your 20's is all about. We are under no obligation whatsoever to know exactly what we want to do for the rest of our lives right now, despite what parents may say. This is our time to explore every possible avenue that we've even considered perusing. That's what I'm doing right now with TV hosting and Filter Magazine. You take a good look at everything you're passionate about and give it a shot. From there you decide what's really meshes with your M.O. and what doesn't.

However, because they're around that 'college grad' age or are even nearing their mid/late 20s, they feel like they need to decide their future NOW. I've discovered that this is total nonsense and is usually a byproduct of incessant parental nagging. Well, the parents need to be told to chill. We've got a lot of living to do beyond our 20s and we've got to figure out what's really going to make us happy occupying our time for decades to come, and that takes TIME. None of us wants to end up in our 50s doing something that makes us miserable.

The number of friends with whom I went to school that actually have careers and real a sense of stability in their lives I can probably count on my fingers, and I likely don't even need both hands. That's just it. Our 20s are ABOUT INSTABILITY. It is the "figure shit out" years, if you will, and sometimes it takes the entire decade to do it. I don't think there's any shame in that. The 20-something years will likely be the loneliest, most confusing, most frustrating period of our entire lives, but they will likely also be the most exciting. Having your life figured out can get boring after a while, I imagine. So I've decided to savor every second of not having a damn clue of what lies ahead.

I think my friends should too.

Wolfmother Crazy Fantastic Road Trip '09

Tomorrow I embark on an 18-day road trip that will take me across the country to 12 cities and 13 states in a Volkswagen Bus, all in the name of promoting the hard rock band Wolfmother's new album. There will be no doubt be long, drab periods of endless, open road for miles and miles, but there will also (hopefully) be a good amount craziness as well. I'll resurrect this recently neglected blog to record the shenanigans that ensure. Our first stop tomorrow night will be a metalcore festival in Phoenix, Arizona. So stay tuned...

Intern fun!

I've always said that I'd rather do something I love for free than get paid to do something I hate....Well now I am! On Wednesday I start an internship with Filter magazine - a really hip music mag chock-full of reviews, interviews and previews of quality music and movies.

As I sat waiting for my meeting in my jeans and short-sleeve shirt and reading about local LA acts in their latest issue, I thought bout the stark contrast it made to my more recent corporate interviews. Today I didn't have to consistently adjust my tie to compensate for the miserable heat of the stuffy waiting room being trapped in by my stuffy dress shirt. I didn't have to nervously toss around rehearsed answers to typical corporate questions. And I didn't dread having to tell the same old lie in response to that "why do you want to work here?" queresion - the real answer to which, of course, is always "...because I need to pay my rent." But unfortunately you just can't say that out loud.

Nah, today I simply kicked back on the couch amidst a group of working hipsters (oxymoron?) in a hip, windowless office and prepared to talk about my favorite bands before causally chatting with a cool, young guy in shorts and a t-shirt named Max. And when that "why here?" question surfaced, the answer was easy this time: "because I love music." Plain and simple. And I do. I love listening to it, I love writing about it, I love reading about it, and I'd rather have a job that exposes me to it regularly and pays me nothing than ever have to get behind that damn hotel front desk again.

it will require me to attend and cover shows and other indie/alt rock music-related events regularly (darn!) and may or may not lead to a paying job in the future. But even if it doesn't, the bulk of my days will once again be filled with something that I actually enjoy. And that's what matters.

(Btw on the way out the door Max gave me a copy of the new Dead Weather cd. Niiiiiiiiiice.)

Ooops...

In my post about douchebaggery written some 4 months ago (a post I have long forgotten about) apparently I quoted a guy that Lisa and I had been hanging out with that night; a guy that neither of us had met before that night and that neither of us has seen since. Well apparently somehow, some way his girlfriend found the link to the post on facebook, read it, and recognized her boyfriend's quote... in the post about douchebaggery. Needless to say she was not pleased. Of course, Lisa ran into her tonight for the first time in FOUR MONTHS and was berated for the insult I laid on her boyfriend. in turn, I ended up getting chewed out. Very curious that she found the post since we are not connected in any way on facebook, but in any case... looks like I'll be writing an apology email.

If only I had a nickel for every "I'm sorry I seemed to imply that your boyfriend is a douchebag" email I've written...

Oh men...

Saturday night I was out with the gang at Aero Club for Marisa's birthday. Struck up conversation with a guy I had met once before (at the Aero Club) well over a year (or two?) ago, but couldn't recall much from our first encounter.

Really cool guy. We talked music. He told me stories about his days as a DJ and filled me in on every show coming to LA worth seeing, including The Pixies (one of my favorite bands). He insisted on buying me shot after shot of expensive whiskey and reassured me that I was gonna make it big as an actor in LA because I'm a "good-looking" guy with talent doing it for the right reasons. If I was a girl I'd swear he was trying to fuck me, but I figured he just happened to be a genuinely cool guy with whom I had a lot in common. Don't meet guys like him that often. So now I have a new bff, right?

But wait... At the end of the night LIsa asks me what I think of him and I tell her I think he's badass and that we really get along well. "Yeah... I'm still trying to decide on that one," she replies.

Yep... he's trying to bang my ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend I was dating (and with) the first time we met at the club over a year (or two?) ago. In fact he's been trying for a while now. They've gone on a few sort-of dates and planned on taking her to Sea World the next day. He also tried (in vain) to make out with her at the end of the night.

Course Lisa and I have been broken up for over a year. She can do whatever she wants without my approval. She knows that. My point is this: Recent history has shown me that when a guy is being really really nice, he usually has an ulterior motive. Usually this applies to guys hitting on girls, but it can also apply to other guys when, say, the dude desperately wants to make good with the other dude because he's trying to bang his ex-girlfriend. Course this dude could possibly have been genuinely cool. I'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt. But the circumstances make me skeptical, and the fact remains that...

Most men are full of shit, ladies. Sad but true. I apologize on behalf of my sex...

Restaurant managers: FAIL

I can't stand it when douche bag restaurant managers who, during interviews, act like they are hiring the next Secretary of State...

You are hiring a 20-something year old to take people's orders and bring them food and drink. You are not hiring the next leader of the free fucking world. Get off your power trip and stop asking bullshit questions like "Can you give me an example in which you went above and beyond the call of duty during a job?"

If an applicant proves that he/she can be warm, personable and make people feel welcome while also being able to multi-task and manage stress, then he/she is qualified to be a goddamn server. He/she does not have to have a PhD, have saved someone's life or invented the Polio vaccine.

The vast majority of applicants for serving positions (including myself and several friends) are OVER-qualified for saying 'hello', taking orders and carrying plates, yet these guys (yes, mostly guys) look down their nose at people who haven't served for a dozen years and don't answer their lame questions like a corporate whore.

You're 38 and you work at fucking Black Angus. Get over yourself. You fail at life.