Home in Los Angeles

Hey everyone,
It sure feels empty and quiet in these first couple days since the end of the Conan tour. I've been a marionette for two months, my every move controlled by day sheets, call times, set lists and laminated signs. My strings now detached, I'm trying to remember how to direct my own life.

This experience has been so high impact for me that I'm almost afraid to come down from the high. I'm like an astronaut, just back from a weightless journey through space, adjusting again to the burden of gravity here on earth.

As a child, I used to have a recurring dream wherein I'd come upon a large pile of silver coins. That pile of coins, probably all of $250 in quarters, silver dollars, and half dollars, represented a life-changing windfall to me at that time. After an initial celebration, it would occur to me that this must be a dream. That I would again wake up to find my loot had evaporated during my return to consciousness. I would spend the rest of the dream methodically preparing a special hiding spot for my treasure. Properly secured and stowed away, I thought, this pile of coins would arrive with me on the other side.

Now I've awakened in Burbank to find I've been fooled yet again. But I haven't come back totally empty-handed. How do you even put a price on the experience I've just had? On seeing Conan O'Brien elevated from television personality to folk hero to rock star? I've felt first-hand the massive public affirmation of Conan's status as a beloved television star. And now, at TBS, we'll all get to see what happens when Conan gets to do a show his way.

Stay tuned.

Last Show, Atlanta

Hey,
Tonight we did our final show at the Fox Theater in Atlanta. Our last load in. Our last load out. Our last catered meal at the venue. A ten-week experience's worth of important mental notes, orphaned forever. The details of the day's setup and show are hazy, overwhelmed by the significance of the day as a whole.

In the week or so leading up to this final show, it was decided that the crew would prank opening act Reggie Watts. One idea was to just have members of the crew begin to walk onto the stage and take a seat during his set. Another idea was to add a performance-art twist to his final song. Reggie finished his set most nights with his composition, "Fuck Shit Stack." Skip Twitchell, the tour's video guy, painted 14 medium-sized cardboard boxes with the words "Shit" and "Fuck." During the chorus of "Fuck Shit Stack," we began to walk onto the stage and literally create stacks of "Fuck" and "Shit" around him. It was fun to watch Reggie try to keep his composure as we littered the stage with boxes of "Fuck" and "Shit." After the stacks were built, I saw a bunch of my tourmates beginning to walk onto the stage, and figured I'd join in as we'd discussed. But instead of everyone ending up on stage, it turns out that three of my tour mates, Shari, Michelle, and Adriane, had decided, perhaps at the spur of the moment, to dance around Reggie in response to his line, "where my girls at?". So it ended up being just me and three dancing girls at center stage, with maybe a minute to kill. It was kinda like a nightmare, really. But I stayed out there, and threw a box of "Shit" out into the crowd when the song ended.

Conan's voice was really hoarse and raspy during the soundcheck today. I was worried that he might be in real trouble during the harder vocal numbers in the show. But Conan summoned up a great show, husky voice be damned. And the crowd ate it up.

After the load out, we headed back to the Ritz Carlton Buckhead, got cleaned up, and joined Conan and the entire tour party at the hotel lounge for our last goodbyes over cocktails. I have a feeling it's going to take a few days for this to set in.

Next, the LA-based crew will all fly home to LAX in the morning.

Last Bus Ride

Hey all,
We took our last bus ride into Atlanta this morning. It was an interesting feeling, knowing that I wouldn't see the bus again. I came into this experience wondering what life on the bus would be like. Will people be at each others' throats? Will there be anything to eat? Anything to do? Will I sleep well on the bus? I can't poop on the bus? Seriously?

But I ended up loving it. I slept like a baby on the bus. The gentle (or not so gentle) rocking motion knocked me right out. Always stocked with too much food, and tons of beer, the bus was a sanctuary in every city.

My bunk became home the first night I slept in it. I miss my bunk already. When that bus rolls, you know that someone is looking out for you. You know that you will awake in the place you need to be. It's all up to the driver, the tour planning, the elements, the traffic. None of it is up to you. Wake up hungry?- Go to the front lounge and grab some food. Thirsty?- Drinks galore in the fridge. Beer?- Coolers in both lounges. Video games?- Back lounge (thanks Bley!). Want company?- Head to the front lounge. Quiet time with your laptop?- Go to the back lounge. Want the world of touring to disappear?- Slide into your bunk, and draw the curtain. Maybe listen to some Radiohead. Rock... a bye.....ba......by....... wha...what? Where am I? Oh.....Phoenix. Or Denver. Or Philly. And the venue, and laminated "To Catering" signs are right outside that bus door.

Our driver, Melvin Markham, did a great job getting us everywhere we needed to be. A Nashville resident (and perhaps native, not sure), Melvin had that southern gentleman's respectful tone and delivery. He saved my ass once, too, when I'd left some critical gear on the bus on a day that the buses were parked far off-site. I called him in a panic when I discovered my mistake. He got the gear onto another bus that was returning to the venue. He saved the Harvard Class of '85 Reunion gig. Thanks, Melvin.

Well, so long, bus. I've had apartments for years that I didn't love as much.

See you at the Fox Theater in Atlanta for the finale!

End of Tour Party

Hey everyone,
So tonight, in Atlanta, we had our End of Tour Party. We went to a nice bar/restaurant called Shout, and had dinner and drinks in their "private wine room." We were all impressed with the food and the wine list. The room was pretty small for the number of people we had, though. Basically, you were trapped in your seat, talking only to the people closest to you. Later we would end up relocating the entire party to the lounge of the W Hotel next door. There we could roam around and get in a little face time with everyone.

Detained at meetings at TBS (which happens to be headquartered in Atlanta), Conan arrived a couple hours after the rest of us. Honestly, he looked very, very tired. He has looked tired often during the tour- I'm sure we all have. But none of us works as hard as Conan. The reality show "My Super Sweet 16" happened to be filming in the restaurant, right outside of our private room. Four 16-year-old blondes screamed upon Conan's arrival, then posed for pictures with him until he managed to extricate himself a few minutes later. After the excitement of his arrival subsided, he made his way to a small podium at the front of the room. He began to speak through a microphone they'd set up for him, but stopped mid-sentence because it was so horribly distorted.

"Oh this is disgusting" Conan said (in regard to sound system). We all laughed.

"Hey, where the sound guys at?!" someone yelled out.

"Whose system is this?" Conan jeered. "I sound like Stephen Hawking. I'm not gonna use this."

Hoarse from the torturous schedule of singing, screaming comically, and constant talking, meet-and-greets and business meetings, Conan motioned for us to quiet down.

"Shhhh... so I don't have to yell. And, yeah, close that curtain" (separating the private room from the restaurant)- "I don't want this to be part of the filming of 'Super Sweet Sixteen."

"I just wanted to say something. It's not gonna be funny."
(crew laughs) "I like to say that ahead of time."

"I've been in show business since I was twenty-two. And I've never, ever, ever worked on anything that has meant as much to me, spiritually, emotionally, creatively.... as this tour. And that's because of everybody in this room. And I am horrified at the idea of this stopping. At the same time, if it doesn't stop, I will go to the hospital." (big crew laughs) "And not come out. It's been the professional honor of my life to work with you people, and it has meant everything to me. And I would just like to say to everyone in this room, please consider me a friend. If there's anything I can do for anybody in this room- if I can get on the phone, and help you with something else, write a letter. You know how to get me."

Andy yelled out "What about money?"

This, of course, got HUGE laughs, followed by chants of "Money! Money! Money!" then "USA! USA! USA!"

"Sorry, sorry," Andy said.

"That's an expensive laugh, Andy." Conan countered before continuing with his speech.

"So I don't want to take any more of anybody's time. I just want everyone to drink and have a good time tonight. I want tomorrow to be our best show ever." (some laughs from crew) "No, seriously, there's a lot on the line tomorrow." (huge laughs)

"But just thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you very much for everything you've done. And I love you all."

That's my boss, my friend, Conan O'Brien.

Bonnaroo

Hey everyone,
So we've finished our two shows at the Bonnaroo festival. This is as close as I'll ever come to having been at Woodstock. And, honestly? You can keep it.

Mud, dust, inadequate power, tent accommodations and sweltering heat and humidity conspired to put a serious dent in my enthusiasm for the festival. It was like spending a summer weekend at Camp Mud Beach. At points the heavy lifting and 95-degree heat had me seeing stars.

Both shows were well-received by mobs of fans who'd begun lining up for the show as early as 5am! It was weird doing shows in a circus tent for the unwashed and overheated masses. On the second day, the power couldn't handle the air conditioning and all of our gear at the same time. We lost power for a while, got it back, and lost it again. The solution? Turn off the air conditioning! So the first 25 minutes of the second show were just steaming crazy hot. I think they just decided to chance the power going out again, at that point, and turned the air back on for the sake of public safety. Luckily, it held for the rest of the show.

It smelled like unwashed hippy mixed with mud and porta-potty in that sweat lodge, too. Trust me, those over the age of 25- you don't want to go to a summer festival in Tennessee.

Tonight we have our End of Tour Party in Atlanta. Then tomorrow is our LAST SHOW! I can't believe it. Well room service has arrived. See you in Atlanta.