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One time on tour, far (far) away from home… Dan lost his mind in the parking lot of a hotel. It was St Louis actually. He just went berzerk, and jumped out of the van, and started de-robing… one piece of clothing at a time, as he ran. So there was this trail of clothes… one item per 25 feet or so.

The whole episode lasted about 50 seconds until he was completely naked… perched (not very peacefully) atop the illuminated sign of the chain-hotel at the far end of the parking lot… shrieking at passing cars. I just stood there, watching in detached disbelief. I too felt a little crazy; I think we drove close to 11 hours that day without sleeping the night before. And the 99 or so beers were not weighing positively on our judgment.

All in all, at the end of the berzerker-episode… Dan had lost the hotel room key along with his shoe, mind, and mental/wardrobe composure.

As I walked up to Dan’s sign-top nest, he noticed I had a camera, and began lobbying me to photograph a certain part of his body.

“Shoot my core. Shoot my core, brother“, he prodded, sounding a little bit like an in-character Terry Bolea.

He assembled himself, and began looking for the lost shoe… enlisting us to help him. I had actually seen the shoe, as it wasn’t very hard to find. It was one of the first items of clothes that were cast aside… so mathematically, the lost shoe had to be no farther than 25 or 30 feet from the van, where the whole dismantling began. However, I didn’t want to help Dan find the shoe. I wanted him to find it for himself. Because, at the very least he would get his shoe back… but my hopes were that, in finding the shoe, he would feel a little more composed and self-accomplished, thus beginning the winding road back to sanity.

I snapped this photo before turning back towards the hotel lobby to ask for a replacement key.