I've never been a big fan of traveling. Well, actually that's a bit of a lie. I used to love traveling, but it changed at some point from something that totally fascinated me to an incredible waste of time.
I used to view everything past my block as having limitless potential for adventure. I harassed my parents constantly to loosen the leash they had me on. I wanted to get a job. I wanted to get a bike. I wanted to get my drivers license. I wanted to learn to fly a plane. At a very young age I packed a bag full of triskets and a pepsi and rode my bike exactly half a block away, found a cool spot under a tree and chilled out for a few hours. When I reached adolescence I started taking walks to the neighborhoods I was less familiar with around Brentwood, and as a teenager with a license I tended to enjoy getting lost in random outer LA towns and trying to drive my way back. I would be gone for hours and was happy as a clam so long as I had music and no one to answer to.
Then when I first went to go look at colleges I discovered what travel really was: I took a long flight to a place to pick up a car with my dad and we drove. And drove and drove and drove. I had no idea where I was going. I had no idea where I was. All I knew was that Dad would tell me where to turn, and after HOURS in the car listening to the same tapes over and over again we would arrive at a college where I would interview (awkwardly), then get back in the car and continue the journey once again. After my week of looking at schools around the east coast, I decided that I was done with traveling for awhile.
Each expidition after that was similarly annoying. The road trip across America was dominated by my brother and his douchey tendencies. The trip to Europe was tainted by a perpetually upset stomach, a lack of culinary expertise, and my miserable gay friend and his hag who liked me. Road trips had breakdowns. Flights were cancelled. It wasn't long before I only wanted to dig in somewhere and never ever leave.
I found a place in Queens, New York and stayed there for five years. I traveled as little as humanly possible and was happy as a clam.
Then came improv tour.
To be continued...
