I spent nearly four weeks in Hawaii and all I really wanted to see was the places they filmed Lost. Of course there was the pesky detail of having to go to work every day, which seriously got in the way of my site-seeing. I did get a chance to make it out to see a few things and boy were they worth it. Here's the rundown:   Survivors Beach There's not a whole lot to it, but it's worth seeing if you're a huge Lost nerd like me. It's a little bit of a hike down the beach, so be prepared and dress appropriately. Also, since there is quite a bit of walking, take some water, even if you're not Hurley-sized, you'll need it.   To get there, take the Kamehameha Highway from Honolulu towards Haleiwa. Hit a left at Papailoa road and follow that around until you find a parking area and beach access. Once you get to the beach, hit a left and hike for about 1/2 mile. You'll recognize the beach and trees when you see it.   The Others village The Others village is a YMCA camp on Oahu's north shore. You can see it very easily from the road, but it's tricky ...

  For lack of anything else to do in Norwalk, Conn., Schreiber and I went to Norwalk's top tourist attraction (according to tripadvisor.com): Stew Leonard's dairy store. Apparently once featured in Ripley's Believe It or Not, it is the country's biggest dairy store. I'm not quite sure what that means, but it was a shopping trip to be remembered.   We kind of scoffed when a search of things to do in Norwalk brought this up, but shit, we had to go grocery shopping anyway, so we figured we may as well do it some place interesting. Honestly though, interesting doesn't really do it justice. If the folks who run Chuck E. Cheese built a grocery store, it would be Stew Leonard's. Intense is the only way to describe it.   The path through Stew Leonard's reminds me of IKEA, winding purposefully from department-to-department. It was kind of nice to avoid the awkward hokey-pokey you do with your cart when you nearly run into a distracted mother at the end of each aisle. Everybody was walking in the same direction and if they needed something, they'd just pull over to the side and grab it.   The controlled traffic flow also ensures that you get to see ...

If you're going to Memphis, do two things: Visit Sun Studios and go to Beale Street on a Sunday afternoon. Everything else, the barbecue joints, Graceland, etc. are worth seeing, but if you do those two things, you'll have had a trip to Memphis worth remembering. I spent a couple weekends there a little bit ago. Here's what I saw:     Beale Street I checked out Beale Street twice while I was there, the first time on a Sunday afternoon and the second on a Saturday night. Saturday night was fun, lots of drinking and craziness ensued, but going on a laid back Sunday afternoon was the best way to do it. I spent most of my time at Mr. Handy's Blues Hall, which from outward appearances, seemed to be the last real juke joint on Beale Street. Everything else looked like it was catering to the same Crocs and jort-wearing schlubs I saw at Graceland the day before. For the most part, it was just me, the bartender and a blues band. Every now and again someone would stop in for a moment, including at one point a group of Asian tourists. When they told the bandleader that they were from Alabama, the band ...

If you ever happen to find yourself in Sheryl Crow's hometown, eat at the town's best restaurant — McDonald's. Seriously. On our way to Memphis last weekend, Schreiber and I made the mistake of believing a review on Poynt and went to the Cotton Patch buffet as we passed through Kennett, Missouri. The Cotton Patch used to be an Asian buffet, but was taken over by a southern-American family of mediocre cooks and their half-wit children. As you can see from the picture, the place hasn't changed much since the previous owners were there, well, except for the sticky layer of grime that seemed to coat every surface in the place. To be fair, some of what they served was pretty good, the meatloaf, catfish and fried chicken in particular. Then again, the fried okra was rock hard and the mac & cheese was so watery it may as well have been served in a soup bowl. The food aside, the trip might have been downright forgettable if it weren't for their dimwitted children. First, we were graced with a great conversation with the son. Dimwit son: My neighbors brew their own beer. They make their own moonshine too. Us: Oh, that's neat. Dimwit son: You know ...

Lesson learned. When in Tennessee, don't insist that bourbon is better than whiskey (even if it's blended Canadian garbage.) I spent a long weekend in Memphis, purposely driving around shady neighborhoods looking for cool sites. I had no idea that the most exciting — and potentially most dangerous — event would happen at the hotel bar. There I was, Friday night at the Holiday Inn bar, glass of Maker's in my hand, hanging out with some fellow weary business travelers, when one of the guys at the bar asks for some Crown Royal. "Sorry," the bartender says, "we're all out. How about some Maker's Mark?" Now at this point you should know that the five or six of us at the bar, this guy included, had spent the hour leading up to this talking sports and making a lot of jokes about each others' choice in fandom. This guy in particular was a Tennessee fan. So I say "He's doing you a favor by being out of Crown Royal, Maker's is way better." "Fuck that, I want some real whiskey," the guy says. Everybody is laughing, I think the guy and I are still joking, so I say "C'mon, man up and have a big boy drink." Maybe ...

The road from my hotel to the office took me around the back of St. John's, Newfoundland. Up and over the hill, in front of the Confederation Building, through the fog to the mall. Yes, the newspaper in St. John's is in a mall, but I digress. So there I was, daydreaming, driving the same route I'd driven every day for the past three weeks when I saw the most beautiful view. There it all was, the harbor, the rocks, the Atlantic ocean. Why had I not noticed this before? Well, because this was the first time in three weeks that I'd seen the sun. It was the first time in three weeks that the fog had lifted to the point where I could see for more than 50 yards in any direction. Later that afternoon, after the sun went away, I was walking to lunch with one of the locals and talking about the depressing, gray weather. "This is actually a pretty nice day for Newfoundland," he said. "It's not raining." I should mention, this was a man who'd moved to Newfoundland from California. It seems the fog had eaten his soul and crushed his spirit. Can't see the slideshow? Click ...

This is an oldie but a goodie. A co-worker and I were in Atlanta a few years back and in one drunken night, learned a few lessons as we hung out in a few bars in Atlanta's Bucktown neighborhood. Protip 1: Your mother was right when she said to be wary of strange men in vans. We asked the guy at the hotel front desk to call us a cab. "I've got some friends who can take you over there," he said. "No problem, my friends." A few minutes later, two guys from Senegal pulled up in a white van and offered to take us to Bucktown. The guys were nice enough and they got us to where we were going. Heck, they even came back at closing time and got us back to the hotel without incident. Looking back, however, climbing into an unmarked van with two random dudes seems pretty shady. Protip 2: If you have to ask, you can't afford it. We started out drinking cheap beer at what looked like a Tiki bar, but what turned out to be part of a huge bar complex and dance club. It was early, so the place was empty, save for us and a very ...