In the fall of 2002 I stepped off an airplane into the palm and pineapple humidity of the tropical paradise known as Hawaii. I was swimming through the groggy delirium of a summer spent on the road, followed by a sleepless night waiting in line for a stand-by seat at the Oakland airport. I was twenty-two years old and felt like the world was out there lying in wait for my arrival. I wanted to consume it.
