Taylor’s latest newsletter features a couple of dramatic run-ins with one of the most celebrated coaches in football history. Read all about it!
May 20, 2015
I use two algorithms for keeping time. The traditional clock as set by “Greenwich Mean Time” (Isn’t time ALWAYS mean, in some way? It’s certainly unforgiving!), and my own time, which is really nothing more than a “countdown” clock of sorts.
I travel for a living, and my personal clock starts the moment I walk out the door in our garage in New Jersey, open one of the bays and drive off. I click the starter button in my head and the countdown begins: “I will be home in 107 hours.”
I’m following the instructions of real time, of course. My flight departs at 6:10 a.m. I’m on a plane, I land somewhere, I get on another plane, I land somewhere, I get off the plane and I’m headed to a gig. This one starts in Grand Cayman.
I get on a ferry – a small boat shuttling people to and from a Disney Cruise ship – and I check in.
101 HOURS TO GO.
I perform twice that night, the hours ticking by in my mind.
A day later I’m in Jamaica.
77 HOURS TO GO
It’s now a day later, and I am flying to the other end of Mexico, landing in Cabo San Lucas to meet another Disney Cruise Line ship.
54 HOURS TO GO
The following day I am in San Diego, where the 5th sign of the Apocalypse is taking place (it’s only 60 degrees and pouring rain!) where I catch a flight back to the east coast.
27 HOURS LEFT
I fly all day back to the east coast landing in Philadelphia.
FINAL 2 HOURS TIL I’M HOME
Once home, I drive to the ocean in New Jersey, in time to watch the sun rise over the Atlantic.