"Well, that's because it's New York City." Dan chuckles. "Sorry, I'm a country boy. I love cities for the parties, but past four a.m. they get a little too crowded for me. There's too much traffic and ain't enough cow manure and deer ticks past that point."

Everything Dan says tends to be wrapped in a warm coating of conviviality and a little self-deprecation. He likes to tease, but not to be insulting or overfamiliar. It's a fine line that he usually walks pretty well.

"The best pizza I ever had was in New York, though. They still got good pizza in Nueva York? Sausage, pepperoni, red onion and peppers?" He flexes his hands in front of the fire again. They're back to their normal pallor. "I didn't get much sunlight growing up, and we didn't even have good food to make it worthwhile."