Elk City, Oklahoma

Let me begin by saying I had a blast at my buddy's wedding in Elk City. Plenty of good friends, good booze and good fun. 

And there's nothing wrong with the town itself. It's just... Elk City. Maybe I've lived away from Oklahoma for too long, but it seems like every building, semi-truck and t-shirt was a reminder that "Jesus Saves" or "United We Stand".

Here's a sign in the dressing room, where I tried on my tux.

Here are the key cards to our hotel room.

Here was the view from our hotel room. (Not related to the theme, but I thought it was weird to see an indoor putt-putt course from my only window.)

Here's are some children's drawings, on display at the Elk City Denny's. In the first one, notice Satan dragging "Mom" and "Dad" down to hell as they plead for mercy. 

In the second, notice how Native Americans are welcomed into heaven (presumably after converting). 

And finally, here is "Your Best Bet For the Internet". Apparently, that metal pole on top of the building is the nexus of the Internet. 

If you're planning a trip to the capital of the Internet, or just want some colorfully disturbed children's drawings, just remember... It's up to YOU!

Eddie Rickenbacker's

You know that place near where you live? You walk (or drive) past it every day, but you've never gone in? It looks kinda cool, but you just assume someone died there or something and that's why no one ever goes there?

Well, for me that place is Eddie Rickenbacker's in SOMA, San Francisco. I know it's called Eddie Rickenbacker's only because I googled it. The sign outside says "40 Cycles of Yesteryear", which is not only a little misleading for a bar/restaurant, it's also quite accurate. There are tons (literally, I'm sure) of antique motorcycles dangling from the ceiling in this place. 

But I thought it was just a biker bar, and my fear of San Francisco bikers is part of the reason I didn't go in there until a couple weeks ago. I saw a brunch menu on the door. And although that didn't cure my fear of assless chaps, it did convince me there wouldn't be any hardcore bikers inside. 'I mean, when's the last time you saw the Hell's Angels sipping bellinis?' I whispered to myself as I summoned the courage to push open the door. 

So I went in, and from what I saw, it isn't a biker bar at all. It's a bar/restaurant that's stuck in history somewhere between the old west and 1978. There are tiffany lamps scattered about, ridiculously ornate and oversized chandeliers among the motorbikes hanging precariously (given the area's penchant for sudden and violent shaking), a cat on the bar, and a piano at the front door. And believe it or not, the piano was the most striking and interesting of the features. The waitresses/bartenders there played old jazz, swing and show tunes and sang along (beautifully) the entire time. Definitely gave the place an old San Francisco feel.

Oh, and the crab sandwich on buttered sourdough toast was to die (of a burst ventricle) for.

Here's Eddie Rickenbacker's info. Can't wait to go back.

hiking in Marin

One of my favorite things to do on weekends is to go hiking with my wife and my dog up in Marin county. We go to the headlands along the Tennessee Valley and wind our way through the trails up there. It's beautiful and it's only about 10 minutes outside the city.

Here are some photos of a recent hike. As I recall, it was hot that day, and I found a tick (not pictured) on my stomach afterward. 

foil party from the future

My buddy Lee - not the Buddy Lee,  but a buddy of mine whose name is Lee - had his birthday party a few weeks ago in Oakland. It was an f'n  blast. The theme was "The Future" and everyone had to dress up using foil somehow to get into the party. Once inside, the booze, beats and breakdancing flowed freely. Lee's dance crew, For The Cause, capped off the evening with a drunken performance, which still blew the crowd away. 

Here are some photos from the evening. 

Lee throws his foil Mechwarrior Pilot outfit into high gear.

I fashioned my foil glasses and foil watch (not pictured) in the cab on the way there. 

Alternate caption: Futuristic Dan looks an awful lot like present-day Elton John.

The party was off the hook. The hook was off the chain. And the chain was off it's fucking rocker.

I got home around 2am and turned on ESPN. And what greeted me but a female 9-ball billiards player with a misspelled version of my last name? I mean, can you say ironic? Someone call Sheryl Crow!