Goodbye, D.C.

I haven’t slept in about 8 months. I know you’re thinking, that impossible, and it is. I don’t mean it in the literal sense. I simply mean that I haven’t rested in 8 months. I fall asleep out of necessity these days; I sleep because I must and only for a few hours and then I am awake again. I can’t help it.

When I was in college at Emerson (Boston), there was one day that I decided to leave class early. I’m not sure why, I just decided it was time to go, and I walked out. As I exited my building and took a left onto Boylston Street, I heard a sound I’ll never forget.

You see, my first job ever was cutting trees, and when a tree “cracks out,” or essentially breaks the wrong way, it makes a terrifying groaning sound. The wood bends and twists and cries to let you know that something unnatural is happening. I heard something like that, but worse.

About 30 feet away, a body slammed to the concrete in a spray of blood. Moments after, I watched as an entire crane flattened a car with somebody driving it wearing scrubs. I’ll never forget the look of utter terror and confusion they had as that body hit the ground in front of them moments before their death. They were probably on their way to work.

I ran to the construction worker who hit the concrete first. I wanted to help, but the contents of his head were spread on the asphalt; there was nothing I could do. The crane had flattened the car. There was another caught in the bent and mangled crane. At the time I was an aspiring conflict photographer so I ran and got my camera. I still have those photos but have shown them to no one. My parents saw me on the news as they reported about it. The Herald offered me money for the photos, but I decided to not sell them; if that happened to me, I wouldn’t want my mom to see me like that.

The months following were a blur. I wasn’t necessarily traumatized; it wasn’t the first time I had seen death. I continued on with my life, but I do remember that the world seemed muffled. Everything felt hazy. Colors weren’t as bright. Sounds weren’t as sharp. And I couldn’t focus and I couldn’t sleep. That went on for months, and it took getting very far out of Boston for a few months to make it better. That half awake, half asleep feeling where you’re perpetually tired and hazy is a terrible way to live. And that’s how I’ve been living the last 8 months.

Have you ever broken something very fragile and tried to glue it back together? I have. I got some silly tourist mini vase in Greece for my mom when I was 16 and broke it on the way home. I was crushed. I tried to glue the pieces back together, but in my panic, I would grip them too hard and they would break further. In the end all that was left was a pile of dust.

I couldn't put into words how I really felt until I was re-watching Parks & Recreation, and I saw it perfectly.

Yup. Nail on the head.

I have always felt the presence of a flame that I used to have burning in me that drove me forward. I could feel it, the engine, the forward movement, the determination, the push. And that flame is gone. I knew there was a problem when I just had nothing else to write. I would write and delete and walk away, try again, and fail. It got to the point of breaking, no matter how much I tried to work through it or get out and be happy, I knew there was something that needed to be done that I was not doing.

I've learned a lot of hard lessons over the past year. I've learned that sometimes your best laid plans will simply fall to shit. I've learned that people change in drastic and painful ways. I've learned that if you don't pay attention to how you change, it can result in disaster. I've learned that no matter how tough you think you are, everyone has a breaking point.

I've learned why they name hurricanes after people.

I came to the realization that I was broken. What was frightening is that I didn't (and maybe still don't...) know how to fix it. And then, I watched this:

It occurred to me that I needed time away. But vacation was not the answer, because a week or two away wasn't it. No, the answer was sabbatical. I've been working in restaurants, placing myself aggressively in high stress management positions and I remembered when my life was simpler. I would bartend and that was that. Make drinks, hear the stories, live the life. I was discovering DC and that's over. Many things are over. I wanted the creative shot in the arm I've been missing for the longest time.

Some of you have heard this, but many of you have not. This is my plan.

The Bar Fight is going on the road.

I have the privilege of living in a gigantic country and have a skill that I can use in most any city in the US. I am going to sell the things I don't need and put the rest of it into storage, pack my basic possessions and my dog into my car, and hit the road. My goal is to find a new place every few months to go. I want to get behind bars all over this country. If you're reading this than you know me - know of a place that would want to hire an accomplished bartender for a couple months? Reach out to me.

I am putting a period at the end of the sentence that has been the last few years of my life and doing something I havn't done before. I'm looking at Charleston, Charlottesville, St. Louis, Nashville, Pittsburgh, Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland, Austin, San Diego, Chicago, SOMEWHERE in Montana, New Orleans, maybe the Florida Keys. I don't want to travel like a tourist, which I did years ago on a road trip. I want to take the time to live in these places and understand the culture, live the food, and serve the drinks. I want to teach and I want to learn, one bar at a time.

I don't know what I'm looking for and I don't know what sort of answers I am trying to find. I spend a good bit of time worrying that perhaps I am making a mistake, walking away from everything that I have built here. Just as I know that everything one does can be destroyed, it also means that it can be rebuilt. To anyone I've disappointed, I am sorry. Those of you who feel that I've let you down, I apologize. I just know that I need to do something to try to put the pieces back together.

This will be the new story of The Bar Fight, or perhaps the story that it should've always been. This will be the story of a man and his dog, finding a way to bring that small fire back to life that I feel has gone out. I want to bring back the passion and love of this industry that I once had, and I feel this is the way.

To all of the friends that I have made in DC over the years, thank you for your inspiration and kindness. To everyone I've worked with or for, thank you for the opportunities. Goodbye DC. Hello....well I don't know yet. You'll know as soon as I do.

I've come to understand that in the end, I am trying to find my way home. I just don't know where it is.

Safe Travels,
The Bar Fight