Strange day

I added the following paragraph on 9/8/2006:
A lot of people have ended up on this page in an attempt to find the address of a famous comedian. (I know because I analyze my web site stats.) If you are one of those people, you'll want to read this page carefully. You just might find what you're looking for.

[Now onto the entry as originally written.]

While driving to Yellow Springs yesterday for my regular Wednesday chill-out session, I had to take a different route through London than usual, to get some cash and fill up my tank. As I turned onto my alternate route through a neighborhood bordering an industrial area, I noticed there was a train stopped at the railroad crossing, so I went to the next street over, hoping the train wouldn't be blocking it, too. Well, it was, but the engines were only a couple hundred feet beyond the crossing. So I turned around and headed in a direction that might get me where I wanted to be.

As I filled up my tank at the nearby Sunoco instead of the Speedway station across the tracks, sirens started coming from everywhere, going to where I'd just been. It turns out that the train had hit a car. And judging by the fact that there was no one on the scene when I originally tried to pass, the collision must have happened no more than a minute or two before I got there.

I left the house a little later yesterday than I intended. What if I had left two minutes earlier? Would I have been at the crossing when the train arrived? If so, would I have looked both ways like safe drivers are supposed to do? (There are no gates; just lights.) I really don't know. Before yesterday, I wasn't even sure if trains go beyond London because I never see any. So I may not have paid full attention to the crossing, just like I haven't paid full attention to it when I've crossed there in the past.

Fortunately, I believe all the people in the car are OK, even though at least two of them were flown to a hospital via two different helicopters.

Later on, in Yellow Springs, I saw Dave Chappelle when he came into the coffee house where I was hanging out. There's nothing strange about that; I've seen him at least 20 times before yesterday, almost always at this same coffee house. I've never met Dave, nor have I ever bothered him, in case you're wondering.

Dave came in, bought his usual large coffee, then headed back out into Yellow Springs. Nothing unusual there. About an hour later, he returned to the coffee house, carrying his skateboard. He stepped out to the patio behind the building for a few minutes, then came back in and bought another coffee. This time he chatted with the barista for several minutes before leaving again.

Shortly after he left the second time, I realized there was something very different about Dave Chappelle--something I've never seen before. He seemed happy; genuinely happy. It was in his body language. It was in the tone of his voice. It was in the way he walked down the street interacting with people.

I know Dave loves Yellow Springs. He's not "Dave Chappelle" there; he's just Dave. He knows the people and they know him. Nevertheless, I've always detected some kind of tension in Dave when I've seen him before. He says hi to all the regular faces, but he pretty much seems to keep to himself. I didn't see that tension yesterday, and I hope Dave is feeling as good as he appeared to be feeling.

If I had seen Dave again after his second exit from the coffee house, I actually would have spoken to him. Even though I am the farthest thing from a celebrity worshiper, I usually get nervous whenever Dave comes around. Not yesterday, though. And I think it is largely due to the fact that Dave seemed so relaxed himself.

I respect the hell out of Dave Chappelle, and I certainly would like to meet him, but not because he is famous and not because he is funny. I'd like to meet Dave because he's a great guy with a great mind. I know Dave has been through a lot of shit over the last two years, and I sincerely hope he is as happy as he appeared yesterday.

[That was the original ending of this blog entry. For those of you who are trying to figure out where DC lives, read on.]

Yes, I do know where he lives, but I will not give out his address because I respect the man's privacy. However, I may be willing to help you accomplish your objective if you are willing to explain, honestly, what you were hoping to accomplish here. Are you trying to send him a letter? Hoping to drive by his house? (If so, you can't see it from the road, anyway.) Did you come here hoping for something else?

If you want my cooperation, you must leave a comment explaining what you were hoping to gain when you began searching for DC's house in YSO. Your comment also must contain your full name, your city, your state, and your e-mail address. DO NOT E-MAIL ME ABOUT IT BECAUSE I WILL NOT RESPOND. You may e-mail me about other stuff if you want; just not this. I also will not respond to any anonymous comments. If you are unwilling to provide at least your real name and e-mail address, why would you expect me to give you any information about one of the world's most famous comedians?

And Dave, if you have somehow stumbled upon this page and you don't want me doing this, just let me know. I think you know when and where you can find me.