I left K Street at 6 pm on a Thursday. Ran through UNC’s campus and strolled through Duke’s Gardens, sat in Franklin Street coffee shops talking business, tech, and religion with journalists for Slate and self-published authors. Got caught in monsoon downpours, and made it out of Charleston just as rumors began flying surrounding Gov. Sanford and Georgetown's most famous alum. Listened to alumni reminisce beneath the Oak Trees and dark Spanish moss of Savannah. Sipped sweet tea over lunch with lawyers and aspiring politicians in Atlanta. Stopped in Dallas for a trip down memory lane, and learned that my best friend from 1st grade has a daughter in 1st grade herself.
Spoke with children of the Civil Rights movement in Alabama, ate lunch at Urban Standard with the granddaughter of a Nazi foreign minister. Sang along to Whitney Duncan’s Skinny Dippin’ in Mississippi, inbetween meetings with alumni whose animating passions are conservative politics and their relationship with Jesus Christ. Attended Joel Osteen’s famed Lakewood Church in Houston. Test drove the Fiesta with active city progressives. Got caught in the Sanford media-storm outside the downtown courthouse. Kicked back at a wine bar in Austin, enjoying flights and cigarettes with a non-traditional student who knew Vietnam before he ever knew M Street. Drove into Dallas around 1 AM, to striking city lights and an executive suite upgrade at the Meridien. Met with the PR firms for Oil Companies and law professors at SMU, an inspiringly optimistic victim of breast cancer and a Stonescraftsman. Joined my mother in Albuquerque, and rescued a lizard from a chlorine-filled pool. Sipped tea and discussed holistic medicine with entrepreneurs in Santa Fe. Cooled off over girltalk and white wine in Phoenix. Laid on the beaches of Carmel and dined in Monterey. Hired an ensemble consultant in San Francisco. Watched the waves in Santa Barbara. Ate burgers at L.A.’s Apple Pan and Bastille Day dinner at Monsieur Marcel. Connected with best friends in San Diego. Slept in the house where David Hasselhoff ate a burger just 2 years ago. Met with directors of Vegas Casinos and producers of Hollywood films.
Each day has been worth five blog posts. Maybe another day, when I'll take the time to stop and breath... for now, this summary will have to suffice. Part two has only just begun.