49 people are murdered in Orlando and we were all one with Orlando and the LGBTQ community.
Brussels airport is bombed and we are Brussels.
Paris is under siege by a gunmen and Je suis Paris.
Turkey happens two days ago and Facebook is strangely silent on the unity front from it's billion plus users. Not even scratching the surface of the horrors that are every day occurrences in Syria, Iraq and all over the Middle East and Africa. Every day occurrences. I don't know the numbers but it's a safe bet to assume that in the under developed world we are seeing this kind of carnage always. And where are we all? Where are the media? Where are the leaders?
Look I get it. I'm not totally daft. I'm just trying to wrap my head around the duplicity of reactions to similar events. Over here we are changing our FB profiles in solidarity but over there we have cats. Are we racists? Is it the perceived religion of the victims being the same as the perceived religion of the attackers? It's ok because they were Muslim and for god damn sure the bombers were Muslim. So fuck it. Right?
I don't hide the fact that I think religion is probably one of the worst things ever invented by man. The fervour with which 'radicals' pursue their beliefs is bordering on psychotic behaviour. All of them are guilty of this as far as I'm concerned and some worse than others for sure. But I don't broadcast my beliefs or lack there of either, I generally take a whatever stance to people's beliefs. If it brings you a sense of peace or belonging, fill your boots. Just don't try and preach to me and you'll need gods help if you look down on me because of your beliefs. I don't shit on you for yours so it's best if you leave me alone for mine. Wanna discuss and debate...great, awesome. But leave your halo at the door. Capiche?
So Muslims killing Muslims is ok. Muslims killing Christians (read white) is not ok. Do that and we will band together to show support for insert name of next city to be attacked. But everyone else can go on with the mayhem, there's nobody watching anyway. And even when there is we have a queasiness to engaging...think Rawanda. To mention just one. And what do these all have in common? Spreading the word of god as they see fit. Like the crusades it's ok to rape and murder in the name of Allah, you my friend are doing holy work. Virgins in heaven await you for your martyrdom, much like knights were pre-absolved of the sins they were going to commit doing the church's work. So should they fall to an infidel they would not linger in limbo, their place in heaven secure for they shed blood for god. And that sounds rational? Reasoned? What the fuck!!!!
I don't profess to have any answers and who knows if John Lennon's version of Utopia would be any better but surely we can see that what's going on now and for the past 2000 years....uhm, not so much with the working out.
Sigh
D
Thursday, 30 June 2016
Wednesday, 29 June 2016
Askew
I'm not feeling myself the past few days, not in sync with myself is perhaps a good way to put it. And I don't like it; not one bit. I feel awkward as a mature human....I know, mature is not necessarily a word that comes to mind when thinking of me; but that's how it feels. And I told myself I was going to be honest no matter what, so this is me being honest...dig?
I'll tell you that normally I sit down to write, I type a title and begin the brain leakage that is this blog. Today I have nothing as a title and nothing is coming to me, save for fuck this crap. So, forewarned this will probably be senseless all around. Maybe I'll call is VD - verbal diarrhea....uhm, no. Perhaps not. But maybe....
The past few days and even into the week have been a roller coaster of feelings, both physical and emotional. The kidney stone debacle of June is not entirely over yet and I would bet dollars to donuts that it is playing a part in my askew nature these past days. Ha....askew!!!! Title, nailed it. Shit takes a toll doesn't it. I think for the first time in my life I am understanding, just a bit better, the enormous issue around chronic anything. To live with pain day in and day out takes a toll in so many aspects that I don't think it's easy to comprehend the enormity of the issue. Props to people that truly do make each day count while suffering through the myriad of things they have to deal with.
My son graduated high school on Monday and that has brought a few issues to the forefront. Not with him mind you, he rocked - winning multiple awards and most importantly, leaving with a good sense of himself and his surroundings. So proud of him.
I don't think I will get into specifics here but suffice to say that marriage and divorce are hard things...but do they need to be? I don't mind if something is hard to do, say navigate through life with your beloved. It's ok that it is hard, but maybe it could be a little easier, maybe everyone can take a step back and be honest in looking at the motivation behind actions. Again, I don't understand why some people do what they do...it seems beyond understanding. And see, here is me being out of sync...shockingly I don't know what to say here. Even if I ripped the filters off I don't think I can articulate what is is that I am trying to convey. In my mind's eye I see partial paths to where it is that I want to be....why can't I get there today? Fuck me!!!!
When people I love are feeling out of sync themselves it starts to affect me as well, naturally, and I know that's probably playing a part in my general malaise. I end up taking on their battles sometimes because I am the guy with the big shoulders and the decent listening skills. I want to help if I can. And when I can't...oh hello askew.
Maybe I'm tired. Scratch that, I am tired. That last paragraph took 15 minutes to write because I fell asleep at the keys. I'd like to think that a siesta would be the way to go for all of us but I am going to bed tired and waking up tired....back to health issues and too much on my mind. Right? Tell me that's what it is.
Perhaps a little cottage time with Scott to revel in our own world of excess is what is needed. A run to the lake with no motors, no people and no cares. Yep...except that won't happen until late July or August, too busy and going to Ontario with the kids soon. I'll need to pull this funk out without use of the cottage...get the funk out!!!!
So my apologies my loyal readers for boring you with my boring troubles at this time. I'll do my best to come back to 'normal' next time I write.
Ciao
D
I'll tell you that normally I sit down to write, I type a title and begin the brain leakage that is this blog. Today I have nothing as a title and nothing is coming to me, save for fuck this crap. So, forewarned this will probably be senseless all around. Maybe I'll call is VD - verbal diarrhea....uhm, no. Perhaps not. But maybe....
The past few days and even into the week have been a roller coaster of feelings, both physical and emotional. The kidney stone debacle of June is not entirely over yet and I would bet dollars to donuts that it is playing a part in my askew nature these past days. Ha....askew!!!! Title, nailed it. Shit takes a toll doesn't it. I think for the first time in my life I am understanding, just a bit better, the enormous issue around chronic anything. To live with pain day in and day out takes a toll in so many aspects that I don't think it's easy to comprehend the enormity of the issue. Props to people that truly do make each day count while suffering through the myriad of things they have to deal with.
My son graduated high school on Monday and that has brought a few issues to the forefront. Not with him mind you, he rocked - winning multiple awards and most importantly, leaving with a good sense of himself and his surroundings. So proud of him.
I don't think I will get into specifics here but suffice to say that marriage and divorce are hard things...but do they need to be? I don't mind if something is hard to do, say navigate through life with your beloved. It's ok that it is hard, but maybe it could be a little easier, maybe everyone can take a step back and be honest in looking at the motivation behind actions. Again, I don't understand why some people do what they do...it seems beyond understanding. And see, here is me being out of sync...shockingly I don't know what to say here. Even if I ripped the filters off I don't think I can articulate what is is that I am trying to convey. In my mind's eye I see partial paths to where it is that I want to be....why can't I get there today? Fuck me!!!!
When people I love are feeling out of sync themselves it starts to affect me as well, naturally, and I know that's probably playing a part in my general malaise. I end up taking on their battles sometimes because I am the guy with the big shoulders and the decent listening skills. I want to help if I can. And when I can't...oh hello askew.
Maybe I'm tired. Scratch that, I am tired. That last paragraph took 15 minutes to write because I fell asleep at the keys. I'd like to think that a siesta would be the way to go for all of us but I am going to bed tired and waking up tired....back to health issues and too much on my mind. Right? Tell me that's what it is.
Perhaps a little cottage time with Scott to revel in our own world of excess is what is needed. A run to the lake with no motors, no people and no cares. Yep...except that won't happen until late July or August, too busy and going to Ontario with the kids soon. I'll need to pull this funk out without use of the cottage...get the funk out!!!!
So my apologies my loyal readers for boring you with my boring troubles at this time. I'll do my best to come back to 'normal' next time I write.
Ciao
D
Monday, 27 June 2016
Robo Chef
Ten years ago I started working at Oak Island Resort in between Chester and Mahone Bay, a confounding place that I both loved and hated, which I spent five years at when it was all said and done. I loved some of the people I worked with, forming what will be life long friendships with a few people and collecting countless stories and memories along the way. Unlike some of my Oak Island survivors I look on my time there mostly with fondness.
To be truthful I wasn't sure if I was qualified for this kind of job as I had zero experience running a larger place. I had run my own restaurant and a few others and acted as sous chef in some other larger places but never steered the ship on anything so large. My own self doubt creeping in I suppose, and the fact that when I envision chefs of large hotels I don't see myself as one of those guys. There was, and still is somewhat, an aura around these guys that make me feel slightly nervous...like I'm not up to snuff in someway. I walked in and found chaos. Which by the way seems to be my lot in life when it comes to kitchens...I come in and un-break the broken things and point the ship in the right direction. This wasn't in anyway hard, on the contrary it seemed quite easy. Stop doing stupid things, use common sense, teach and train your team on what the expectations are and help them along the way. And finally, get out of the way. Trust them. Works every time. Anyway, back to the chaos.
The kitchen was dirty, the staff lost and the quality and reputation was not very good. Food cost was through the roof with a phantom inventory, which is what some (a lot) chefs resort to in order to hide issues. Methodically I went through the challenges. The very first weekend there was a wedding in house. My sous chef asked me how I wanted them to do the dinner and I told him exactly how you have been doing it so I can see what's going on. What a fiasco. Talking to said sous chef afterwards my answer was simple...you know how do it better and that's the way we are going to do it from now on. One day was spent in the walk in freezer; opened up like a heart patient I sat there chucking things out that were freezer burnt, undated and un-labelled. If I couldn't get an answer on what it was or how long it was there, out it went. Prior to that day one person could barely fit in the freezer...now I could stand four of us easily. And so on it went. And in what seems very short order, things were as they should be.
Labour day weekend comes around and the family decided to go camping at the Ovens. Beautiful park on the ocean with somewhat private camping areas. A chance to unwind a bit before things were to get busy with the resort and the kids started up at school. At this point I was 38 years old and just starting to get the old stuff going on. You know, sleeping on the ground doesn't kill you but you feel it the next day. And you're not as spry as you once thought you were...and then you brake your foot. Well, a hair line fracture on your foot. Son of a bitch did that hurt. And I knew it right away...having done it to my other foot 15 years previous playing squash. Side note, of all the things I have done to myself I have only three hair line fractures to brag about. Both feet and my left hand. And it would seem numerous blows to the head.
Fast forward a few days and in to work on crutches I go. I can still do office work at the very least. Problem was that we were ridiculously busy in the month of September. I was short staffed and we were pumping out banquets and weddings like it was going out of style. There was no way I was going to be able to sit back and let my team go through that with out my help. I purchased a walking boot that I was strapped into and proceeded to work the next 15 days straight; 14 hour days mind you. The boot was great and allowed me to make it through without too much pain. I earned my stripes that month with my team and the whole hotel. And a new nick name.,,,Robo Chef. One of my cooks was rather talented at white board drawings and he had done up a picture of me busting through a brick wall with my bionic boot...Robo Chef to the rescue. I wanted to ask how he had time for that drawing and not for peeling a bucket of potatoes but there you have it.
My non industry friends think I'm a little nuts when I tell this story and others that point to an almost sadist view on our approach to work. It is quite simple really, there is work to be done and who else is going to do it if not you. Calling in sick is only an option when you are actually in the hospital. While I can leave a report on my desk till such time that I am feeling better, the meal for 80 can't wait. And letting the team down is not an option. Crazy? Probably, but it is the way it is..quite militaristic actually when you think about it.
Now, ten years later I end up in the hospital three times in a week for kidney stone related issues and I must admit, I'm not feeling invincible lately. Having been knocked on my ass a few times over the past six months and maybe, just maybe, I am not indestructible. I don't think I like that. I rarely get sick and most times I can usually scare a cold or flu away by simply looking in the mirror and saying out loud, don't you even think about it. Seriously.
I like to think that my family and friends see me as a strong and reliable guy that can be counted on for many things. One of them is being able to overcome minor maladies to do what needs to be done. It's a badge of honour in some ways. And this goes along with the machismo that lives in my world really...all that matters to the person you're standing next to is if you can keep up with your end of the bargain. Generally we don't care what colour you are, if you are male or female, gay or straight...it doesn't matter to most, just keep up and do your damn job well. Maybe we all have Robo Chef visions dancing in our heads, we like to be thought of as able to do all and overcome all while leaping tall buildings and stopping errant knives from hitting the ground. Yeah...done that as well.
One of the adjustments to my life I'll have to make over time I suppose. The knowledge that you will actually die if you stand in front of a bus to save a cat or a meatball sub. That maybe a sick day is just that, a day to be sick. It'll be a slow progression I am sure but one that seems inevitable. Whatever will they call me now?
Ciao
D
To be truthful I wasn't sure if I was qualified for this kind of job as I had zero experience running a larger place. I had run my own restaurant and a few others and acted as sous chef in some other larger places but never steered the ship on anything so large. My own self doubt creeping in I suppose, and the fact that when I envision chefs of large hotels I don't see myself as one of those guys. There was, and still is somewhat, an aura around these guys that make me feel slightly nervous...like I'm not up to snuff in someway. I walked in and found chaos. Which by the way seems to be my lot in life when it comes to kitchens...I come in and un-break the broken things and point the ship in the right direction. This wasn't in anyway hard, on the contrary it seemed quite easy. Stop doing stupid things, use common sense, teach and train your team on what the expectations are and help them along the way. And finally, get out of the way. Trust them. Works every time. Anyway, back to the chaos.
The kitchen was dirty, the staff lost and the quality and reputation was not very good. Food cost was through the roof with a phantom inventory, which is what some (a lot) chefs resort to in order to hide issues. Methodically I went through the challenges. The very first weekend there was a wedding in house. My sous chef asked me how I wanted them to do the dinner and I told him exactly how you have been doing it so I can see what's going on. What a fiasco. Talking to said sous chef afterwards my answer was simple...you know how do it better and that's the way we are going to do it from now on. One day was spent in the walk in freezer; opened up like a heart patient I sat there chucking things out that were freezer burnt, undated and un-labelled. If I couldn't get an answer on what it was or how long it was there, out it went. Prior to that day one person could barely fit in the freezer...now I could stand four of us easily. And so on it went. And in what seems very short order, things were as they should be.
Labour day weekend comes around and the family decided to go camping at the Ovens. Beautiful park on the ocean with somewhat private camping areas. A chance to unwind a bit before things were to get busy with the resort and the kids started up at school. At this point I was 38 years old and just starting to get the old stuff going on. You know, sleeping on the ground doesn't kill you but you feel it the next day. And you're not as spry as you once thought you were...and then you brake your foot. Well, a hair line fracture on your foot. Son of a bitch did that hurt. And I knew it right away...having done it to my other foot 15 years previous playing squash. Side note, of all the things I have done to myself I have only three hair line fractures to brag about. Both feet and my left hand. And it would seem numerous blows to the head.
Fast forward a few days and in to work on crutches I go. I can still do office work at the very least. Problem was that we were ridiculously busy in the month of September. I was short staffed and we were pumping out banquets and weddings like it was going out of style. There was no way I was going to be able to sit back and let my team go through that with out my help. I purchased a walking boot that I was strapped into and proceeded to work the next 15 days straight; 14 hour days mind you. The boot was great and allowed me to make it through without too much pain. I earned my stripes that month with my team and the whole hotel. And a new nick name.,,,Robo Chef. One of my cooks was rather talented at white board drawings and he had done up a picture of me busting through a brick wall with my bionic boot...Robo Chef to the rescue. I wanted to ask how he had time for that drawing and not for peeling a bucket of potatoes but there you have it.
My non industry friends think I'm a little nuts when I tell this story and others that point to an almost sadist view on our approach to work. It is quite simple really, there is work to be done and who else is going to do it if not you. Calling in sick is only an option when you are actually in the hospital. While I can leave a report on my desk till such time that I am feeling better, the meal for 80 can't wait. And letting the team down is not an option. Crazy? Probably, but it is the way it is..quite militaristic actually when you think about it.
Now, ten years later I end up in the hospital three times in a week for kidney stone related issues and I must admit, I'm not feeling invincible lately. Having been knocked on my ass a few times over the past six months and maybe, just maybe, I am not indestructible. I don't think I like that. I rarely get sick and most times I can usually scare a cold or flu away by simply looking in the mirror and saying out loud, don't you even think about it. Seriously.
I like to think that my family and friends see me as a strong and reliable guy that can be counted on for many things. One of them is being able to overcome minor maladies to do what needs to be done. It's a badge of honour in some ways. And this goes along with the machismo that lives in my world really...all that matters to the person you're standing next to is if you can keep up with your end of the bargain. Generally we don't care what colour you are, if you are male or female, gay or straight...it doesn't matter to most, just keep up and do your damn job well. Maybe we all have Robo Chef visions dancing in our heads, we like to be thought of as able to do all and overcome all while leaping tall buildings and stopping errant knives from hitting the ground. Yeah...done that as well.
One of the adjustments to my life I'll have to make over time I suppose. The knowledge that you will actually die if you stand in front of a bus to save a cat or a meatball sub. That maybe a sick day is just that, a day to be sick. It'll be a slow progression I am sure but one that seems inevitable. Whatever will they call me now?
Ciao
D
Friday, 24 June 2016
17,680 and counting
One thousand, six hundred and eighty, 17,680. That my friends is how many days I have been alive as of today. Woooohooo!!! Sounds a tad different compared to saying I'm 48 years old but there you have it.
Looking at that number maybe it's a little easier to envision the whole live in the moment thing, taking each day as it comes and trying to make the most of it. Making each day count. Don't feel bad if you don't make each day count, I would think very few of us actually do. Not everyone is Da Vinci or Thomas Edison after all, those guys are in a league all their own. Awe inspiring really when you think about their accomplishments and the vastness of their work. I think the idea that we try to make the most of our days and continue to grow as people is most important for us normal folk. Sure inventing a helicopter and painting the Mona Lisa are good and well but not everyone can do that...most of us are destined to be, simply, us. Hopefully the best version of us. Or a reasonable facsimile there of.
In the vein of living life abundantly, You Tube and Facebook are peppered with the "awesomeness" of people. Truly humbling displays of compassion, humanity, adventure and insight...as a race, we rock!!!! Unfortunately, we also suck bag, just saying. For every post about something that might bring a tear to your eye there will be another that makes you wish for the ability to end someone...a tear for another reason. People suck. I shake my head and sigh at the way people act and treat others...I simply don't understand it. As if your existence can only be justified by hubris, mean spirited behaviour and raising yourself up on the people you have just stepped over or on. Will it always be this way? Can we not have compassion, understanding and empathy for our fellow human beings? I truly wish for this. Once again with the naivete...I know.
Let's try this, start each day by simply choosing to be happy. After all it is your choice and yours alone; you can be pissy but how is that really working for you. By starting off happy, maybe, just maybe we can start with ourselves to make a small difference in not only our days but the people around us as well. A smile is infectious...and negativity breeds negativity so really it might be as simple as making that choice. So smile.
After that, a little bit of empathy please. Put yourselves in the other persons shoes for a moment. Understand that you don't know what they are going through so how about showing some respect and treating them as you would like to be treated. I know I've read that somewhere...maybe a fortune cookie?
So now, out of our many days here together, we have taken two days to make small changes to our lives....and to the lives of our family, friends, colleagues and strangers. One small act can lead to another and to another and so on and thinking back to the commercial about some laundry detergent.."they told two friends, and they told two friends" and the screen fills up with people telling each other about it...possibly we can make a difference. And if we don't, we should feel better for ourselves at the very least.
I spent part of day 17,679 collecting money from traffic for a charity. Everyone was greeted with a big thank you, a smile and have a great day...do you know how many times I heard people say, thank you for doing this or great job. Humanity = restored. Giving feels good. When I win the lottery one of the things I want to do is set up a sort of angel investing thing for people....a helping hand and some guidance for your average person to make a dream come true or help out in time of struggle. Of course I would do the travel thing as well...hmmmmm, Greece or Italy first? Set up my kids for their future, go to university only because I want to and somehow take one of my skills to help people help themselves....set up a teaching kitchen where we could provide meals for those in need. I think that would be neat. So...the winning numbers are?
So on my 17,680th day I pontificated about the greater good as I see it. I wonder what tomorrow will bring....
Ciao
D
Looking at that number maybe it's a little easier to envision the whole live in the moment thing, taking each day as it comes and trying to make the most of it. Making each day count. Don't feel bad if you don't make each day count, I would think very few of us actually do. Not everyone is Da Vinci or Thomas Edison after all, those guys are in a league all their own. Awe inspiring really when you think about their accomplishments and the vastness of their work. I think the idea that we try to make the most of our days and continue to grow as people is most important for us normal folk. Sure inventing a helicopter and painting the Mona Lisa are good and well but not everyone can do that...most of us are destined to be, simply, us. Hopefully the best version of us. Or a reasonable facsimile there of.
In the vein of living life abundantly, You Tube and Facebook are peppered with the "awesomeness" of people. Truly humbling displays of compassion, humanity, adventure and insight...as a race, we rock!!!! Unfortunately, we also suck bag, just saying. For every post about something that might bring a tear to your eye there will be another that makes you wish for the ability to end someone...a tear for another reason. People suck. I shake my head and sigh at the way people act and treat others...I simply don't understand it. As if your existence can only be justified by hubris, mean spirited behaviour and raising yourself up on the people you have just stepped over or on. Will it always be this way? Can we not have compassion, understanding and empathy for our fellow human beings? I truly wish for this. Once again with the naivete...I know.
Let's try this, start each day by simply choosing to be happy. After all it is your choice and yours alone; you can be pissy but how is that really working for you. By starting off happy, maybe, just maybe we can start with ourselves to make a small difference in not only our days but the people around us as well. A smile is infectious...and negativity breeds negativity so really it might be as simple as making that choice. So smile.
After that, a little bit of empathy please. Put yourselves in the other persons shoes for a moment. Understand that you don't know what they are going through so how about showing some respect and treating them as you would like to be treated. I know I've read that somewhere...maybe a fortune cookie?
So now, out of our many days here together, we have taken two days to make small changes to our lives....and to the lives of our family, friends, colleagues and strangers. One small act can lead to another and to another and so on and thinking back to the commercial about some laundry detergent.."they told two friends, and they told two friends" and the screen fills up with people telling each other about it...possibly we can make a difference. And if we don't, we should feel better for ourselves at the very least.
I spent part of day 17,679 collecting money from traffic for a charity. Everyone was greeted with a big thank you, a smile and have a great day...do you know how many times I heard people say, thank you for doing this or great job. Humanity = restored. Giving feels good. When I win the lottery one of the things I want to do is set up a sort of angel investing thing for people....a helping hand and some guidance for your average person to make a dream come true or help out in time of struggle. Of course I would do the travel thing as well...hmmmmm, Greece or Italy first? Set up my kids for their future, go to university only because I want to and somehow take one of my skills to help people help themselves....set up a teaching kitchen where we could provide meals for those in need. I think that would be neat. So...the winning numbers are?
So on my 17,680th day I pontificated about the greater good as I see it. I wonder what tomorrow will bring....
Ciao
D
Thursday, 23 June 2016
Braised
I love when meat is cooked on the bone. A prime rib roast, Osso Bucco, braised lamb shank, whole roast chicken, BBQ pork chop....on the bone is so much better. There is an almost primal pleasure to taking something by the bone and taking a bite out of it and something ethereal by taking a tough piece of meat and braising it until it changes into a succulent melt in your mouth parcel of heaven. I don't know the chemistry behind a grilled rib eye vs a bone in rib eye and I really don't care, I like it and that's what I'm sticking to. The braising I do know and that's what I really love. It's complex, it's subtle, it's very good....when done right.
Back in Lunenburg one fall season I decided to put Osso Bucco on the menu in my restaurant. A two inch thick piece of veal shank that was transformed over the day into nirvana on a plate. Scott and I loved it when we got an order, because it meant there was some of the rich tomato gravy left over in the pan that was ripe for a few good mops with some crusty French baguette. Remnants of bone marrow, garlic and just enough umami...uhm yum!!! It was a menu dish that required a lot of attention and time in the beginning but was really quite easy to make.
Start with said piece of veal shank. Tie it up so it doesn't fall apart on you. Season well with sea salt and fresh ground pepper. In a heavy pan get your oil nice and hot and sear that piece of inedible meat all over. Take it out of the pan, drain some of the the fat and add some mirepoix and lots of whole garlic. Start caramelising the vegetables, slowly. This is the key, after the initial blast of heat - low and slow is the way to go. Take your time to build flavour. Patience. This is where the complexity comes from. When the vegetables are sufficiently softened a bit, add some good red wine to pick up all the little bits of flavour on the pan. Again, this is where the flavour gets built. A bit of tomato paste, some good veal stock, sprigs of thyme and the shank goes back in. It gets covered and fired into an oven for a few hours to slowly braise. Bone marrow, fat and protein mingle with the vegetables, the acidic nature of the wine and tomatoes...low and slow. When the meat is done...gently remove it to rest and you take all that goodness left in your pan to make a sauce to go with the shank. Simple right? Time consuming? Yes. But oh so worth it. Kind of like life sometimes....don't you think?
Really....food porn to the meaning of life? Damn straight. At least for me. Figure out your own way I say. Low and slow my friends. Take the time to appreciate the complexities around you. Absorb them, let them make you more than you were. Have the long view to life. Have your moments of high heat as needed but a true appreciation for life comes from living it. Dreams and hope with a smattering of adventure. It really is a journey and no two of us are going to have the same one...enjoy yours, make it yours.
I was out with a special someone recently and we were talking about how we like us at this age. We are better, know more and know ourselves more. Absolutely!! I am loving this time of my life because I have taken the low and slow approach to learning about life and myself. Making mistakes, learning from them and getting better each day. We can appreciate the simple joy of sharing some wine and good conversation. Throw in some food and music and we have ourselves a perfect kind of world. For me at least.
As a side note, thanks to all the people that donated today to Feed Nova Scotia while we were out in this wonderful weather asking for your change. Kind of renews your faith in humanity to see the kindness.
Ciao
D
Back in Lunenburg one fall season I decided to put Osso Bucco on the menu in my restaurant. A two inch thick piece of veal shank that was transformed over the day into nirvana on a plate. Scott and I loved it when we got an order, because it meant there was some of the rich tomato gravy left over in the pan that was ripe for a few good mops with some crusty French baguette. Remnants of bone marrow, garlic and just enough umami...uhm yum!!! It was a menu dish that required a lot of attention and time in the beginning but was really quite easy to make.
Start with said piece of veal shank. Tie it up so it doesn't fall apart on you. Season well with sea salt and fresh ground pepper. In a heavy pan get your oil nice and hot and sear that piece of inedible meat all over. Take it out of the pan, drain some of the the fat and add some mirepoix and lots of whole garlic. Start caramelising the vegetables, slowly. This is the key, after the initial blast of heat - low and slow is the way to go. Take your time to build flavour. Patience. This is where the complexity comes from. When the vegetables are sufficiently softened a bit, add some good red wine to pick up all the little bits of flavour on the pan. Again, this is where the flavour gets built. A bit of tomato paste, some good veal stock, sprigs of thyme and the shank goes back in. It gets covered and fired into an oven for a few hours to slowly braise. Bone marrow, fat and protein mingle with the vegetables, the acidic nature of the wine and tomatoes...low and slow. When the meat is done...gently remove it to rest and you take all that goodness left in your pan to make a sauce to go with the shank. Simple right? Time consuming? Yes. But oh so worth it. Kind of like life sometimes....don't you think?
Really....food porn to the meaning of life? Damn straight. At least for me. Figure out your own way I say. Low and slow my friends. Take the time to appreciate the complexities around you. Absorb them, let them make you more than you were. Have the long view to life. Have your moments of high heat as needed but a true appreciation for life comes from living it. Dreams and hope with a smattering of adventure. It really is a journey and no two of us are going to have the same one...enjoy yours, make it yours.
I was out with a special someone recently and we were talking about how we like us at this age. We are better, know more and know ourselves more. Absolutely!! I am loving this time of my life because I have taken the low and slow approach to learning about life and myself. Making mistakes, learning from them and getting better each day. We can appreciate the simple joy of sharing some wine and good conversation. Throw in some food and music and we have ourselves a perfect kind of world. For me at least.
As a side note, thanks to all the people that donated today to Feed Nova Scotia while we were out in this wonderful weather asking for your change. Kind of renews your faith in humanity to see the kindness.
Ciao
D
Wednesday, 22 June 2016
Hope
I had a myriad of topics running through my head this morning; my kidney stones treatment which induced a kidney stone which threw me in the hospital for a few hours. Fathers Day. The machismo of the kitchen world....well, you get the idea. Instead I give you this...
I watched The Shawshank Redemption the other night, for the umpteenth time. Truly a great movie that touches on hope so beautifully, so eloquently, dare I say perfectly. The scene where Andy plays the piece from Marriage of Figaro over the loud speakers is so uplifting for me. Coupled with Red's narration, the ability of music to lift you out of your seat....goose bumps, just saying. The ability to keep hope alive despite whatever may be thrown your way is a good way to be. As Andy put it, the best of things.
Now I could quote you a number of other examples of hope, hell I could play you the guitar piece called Hope by Alex Lifeson...as you may know, I'm fond of pulling out other people's work to make me look smarter than I am, but if you'll indulge me for a bit...I'll try to look smart on my own terms, grammar and sentence structure not withstanding of course.
To say that I have been put through the ringer a few times in my life would be an understatement. And I say this not for sympathy or to make it seem like I've had a bad life, on the contrary I think I'm leading a great life, just to say that I, like all of us, have had some trying times. Financially, personally and with health. Be it the B & B I used to have, the whole divorce process, the cancer thingy (Fuck Cancer!!!) or what have you, there have been times when I was definitely low on the happy meter. It's part of life of course and I really do see these times as learning and growth experiences. I generally take a "you do you and I'll do me" kind of attitude with the belief that Karma will take care of things in the long term. Stay in the light kind of thing, I may end up with my fair share of kicks to the teeth but I'm pretty sure I'm a better person for it.
Not that a little schadenfreude doesn't creep into my life from time to time. I can think of a few people I wouldn't mind seeing suffer for their actions, those what goes around comes around moments that maybe, just maybe means the universe is actually paying attention. Given the way things unfold sometimes you wonder if anyone is watching. That's a blog for another day.
So, back to these moments in my life where I was beaten down in one way or another. Without getting into specifics because this isn't about pointing fingers, I have almost always looked at what ever was happening and thought, ok...tomorrow will be better. The day after will be better, five years from now will be better. I believe they call that hope. And it's not some pie in the sky pray to the heavens kind of 'hope', it's the fundamental belief that really, things will be better. Through my own hard work or perseverance, the help of others, Karma or just the way it goes...I know it will be better. I knew I wasn't going to die from this eye cancer (Fuck Cancer!!!) just like I know that while I may be tight on funds now I will be better off tomorrow. I believe that. That's how my brain works and that is the one thing I would never change about me. Hope springs eternal....thought I would make it through without a quote did ya? Suckers
I like to believe in those better angels I have mentioned before. I want to believe that mostly people are good. But how people end up behaving is really nothing to do with me...I'm busy being me, and if that means a kick to the stomach every once in a while, so be it. I'll still be the one sipping wine and dreaming of things better to come. Living, loving and laughing.
"Get busy living or get busy dying...that's Goddamn right"
I watched The Shawshank Redemption the other night, for the umpteenth time. Truly a great movie that touches on hope so beautifully, so eloquently, dare I say perfectly. The scene where Andy plays the piece from Marriage of Figaro over the loud speakers is so uplifting for me. Coupled with Red's narration, the ability of music to lift you out of your seat....goose bumps, just saying. The ability to keep hope alive despite whatever may be thrown your way is a good way to be. As Andy put it, the best of things.
Now I could quote you a number of other examples of hope, hell I could play you the guitar piece called Hope by Alex Lifeson...as you may know, I'm fond of pulling out other people's work to make me look smarter than I am, but if you'll indulge me for a bit...I'll try to look smart on my own terms, grammar and sentence structure not withstanding of course.
To say that I have been put through the ringer a few times in my life would be an understatement. And I say this not for sympathy or to make it seem like I've had a bad life, on the contrary I think I'm leading a great life, just to say that I, like all of us, have had some trying times. Financially, personally and with health. Be it the B & B I used to have, the whole divorce process, the cancer thingy (Fuck Cancer!!!) or what have you, there have been times when I was definitely low on the happy meter. It's part of life of course and I really do see these times as learning and growth experiences. I generally take a "you do you and I'll do me" kind of attitude with the belief that Karma will take care of things in the long term. Stay in the light kind of thing, I may end up with my fair share of kicks to the teeth but I'm pretty sure I'm a better person for it.
Not that a little schadenfreude doesn't creep into my life from time to time. I can think of a few people I wouldn't mind seeing suffer for their actions, those what goes around comes around moments that maybe, just maybe means the universe is actually paying attention. Given the way things unfold sometimes you wonder if anyone is watching. That's a blog for another day.
So, back to these moments in my life where I was beaten down in one way or another. Without getting into specifics because this isn't about pointing fingers, I have almost always looked at what ever was happening and thought, ok...tomorrow will be better. The day after will be better, five years from now will be better. I believe they call that hope. And it's not some pie in the sky pray to the heavens kind of 'hope', it's the fundamental belief that really, things will be better. Through my own hard work or perseverance, the help of others, Karma or just the way it goes...I know it will be better. I knew I wasn't going to die from this eye cancer (Fuck Cancer!!!) just like I know that while I may be tight on funds now I will be better off tomorrow. I believe that. That's how my brain works and that is the one thing I would never change about me. Hope springs eternal....thought I would make it through without a quote did ya? Suckers
I like to believe in those better angels I have mentioned before. I want to believe that mostly people are good. But how people end up behaving is really nothing to do with me...I'm busy being me, and if that means a kick to the stomach every once in a while, so be it. I'll still be the one sipping wine and dreaming of things better to come. Living, loving and laughing.
"Get busy living or get busy dying...that's Goddamn right"
Friday, 17 June 2016
If it's Friday it must be a rant
Remember what I said about filters slowly fading away? Yeah, not so slow after all. I'm not sure if it's this very blog and the exercise in writing it, my age or a combination of many things but I have noticed that I am not holding back much anymore. I'm not worried about offending people if I speak my mind and to be honest, if you are offended then maybe we shouldn't be friends....just saying. And if you say things that might cause me to want to punch you in the throat, I think I will cut you out. I deleted a few people from Facebook for espousing things that irk me to no end. Drumph supporters, Harper supporters, homophobic slurs, rampant racism and if you can believe it - support for Hitler. Goodbye Y'all!
So what am I pontificating about today? Vegans and their ilk? People that can't drive? People that text while walking? All valid targets to be sure but no, my vitriol is going to be aimed solely at the NRA, it's supporters and anyone named Trump, excuse me, Drumph. Deep breath.....begin
What kind of fucked up sense of anything do you morons profess to believe in? Seriously, how bone chilling stupid do you have to be if you can't see the relationship between the weekly gun shooting deaths and your ridiculously lax gun laws? I don't hunt nor have I ever even shot a gun or fired a gun or even held a gun so I don't understand the fascination with them. Does your dick feel bigger holding a big gun? I can understand sport hunting and hunting for food easy enough, not that I have done any of that, but what is sporting about hunting varmints with an AR-15 assault rifle? Seriously, how is that even a legal weapon for any 'normal' American to carry if they don't have a sergeant or captain hollering at them? A little overkill maybe.
And before you start, shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear your second amendment crap. This is what it says, the oft quoted and misrepresented second amendment:
“A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed.”
So what am I pontificating about today? Vegans and their ilk? People that can't drive? People that text while walking? All valid targets to be sure but no, my vitriol is going to be aimed solely at the NRA, it's supporters and anyone named Trump, excuse me, Drumph. Deep breath.....begin
What kind of fucked up sense of anything do you morons profess to believe in? Seriously, how bone chilling stupid do you have to be if you can't see the relationship between the weekly gun shooting deaths and your ridiculously lax gun laws? I don't hunt nor have I ever even shot a gun or fired a gun or even held a gun so I don't understand the fascination with them. Does your dick feel bigger holding a big gun? I can understand sport hunting and hunting for food easy enough, not that I have done any of that, but what is sporting about hunting varmints with an AR-15 assault rifle? Seriously, how is that even a legal weapon for any 'normal' American to carry if they don't have a sergeant or captain hollering at them? A little overkill maybe.
And before you start, shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear your second amendment crap. This is what it says, the oft quoted and misrepresented second amendment:
“A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed.”
Ok, take the time to read that statement out loud. Slowly. Do it again. The only way the NRA can use this archaic piece of crap is if they take out some words and ignore context. They can take my musket when they can pry it from my cold dead hand. For fuck sake. A well regulated militia, not every yahoo that can sign his name and stay sober long enough to go through the farce of a back ground check. It's in the first sentence fuck wad. You aren't entitled to your guns anymore than I am entitled to driving my car. The price we pay for living in a civilised society is living under the laws that are, hopefully, designed to protect us. That and taxes. Do they all make sense? No, of course not. Seriously, weed is against the law but alcohol, which is far more destructive, is readily available? But they are there for the general good. I have to earn my privilege to drive and it can be taken away if I've been bad. But don't touch our guns...I'm hunting wabbits! And Muslims, gays, Jews and well....anyone. It scares the crap out of me. Worse than crocodiles and that's saying something....vile killing machines.
Anyone can be packing just about anything. I never gave it a second thought when I was in New York but I bet I walked by a lot of guns in those four days....shudder I don't know if Americans are more homicidal by nature but they certainly do have a lot of gun violence. Surely reasonable men and women can figure out that harder access to guns will help curb this lunacy. Look at Australia. So you Tea Baggers, Republicans and wayward Democrats that block attempts to curb access to fucking military type weapons, grenade launchers, small bazookas and tanks all in the name of the holy second amendment....wait for it....go fuck yourselves. You should be ashamed of yourselves....Sandy Hook, Colorado, San Bernardino and now Orlando which is small potaotoes compared to all the non mass killings by gun that happen daily. The carnage has to stop...and you mooks are the ones that have to stop it.
So here is the deal America. First, get out and vote to ensure that Drumph is completely obliterated. Vote out the Tea Baggers and religious right Republicans to ensure we actually have people that are interested in governing as opposed to obstructionism. And demand that the lawmakers get serious about gun control. While they are at it, wage disparity, corporate greed, the 1% and the environment should be at the top of the list as well.
Now get to work and don't make me come punch you in the throat.
Thursday, 16 June 2016
Ayn Rand, Rush and the power of one
Sitting in my office doing my most favourite thing in the world, paperwork, I can hear the radio blaring Red Barchetta by Rush. For once it wasn't country music assaulting my ears but one of my favourite bands of all time. Like a comfortable pair of jeans, I may stray to all kinds of other music, but when Rush comes on I am invariably drumming and singing along.
So, air drumming away and letting the imagery of the song take me away to when I was in grade 8 I started reminiscing about high school. How music can trigger memories and emotions is wonderful; and the fact that I was going through old photographs of the good ole days the other night I guess I am in a looking back fondly kind of mode. So follow me down memory lane if you will....
I loved high school! For the most part I had a great time, made some excellent memories and still have a small gaggle of friends from that time that I treasure. I understand why people hated it, I get that, I'm just not one of them. I was too busy having fun. Maybe too much fun as my grades would have reflected, whatever! I discovered social life in grade 10, had access to a car in later grades and had a large but close knit group of friends to live and laugh with. As is so often the case these friends have mostly gone off in their own directions and over time contact has been lost. Sad but such is life I guess. But the memories are still there and the stories I could tell. Go on, you tell stories? Would have never have guessed....sheeeessssshhhhhhh
Exploits in my Dad's Nova. The band. The gang. Quebec and Wasaga, or Quebaga. Rudy watch the fucking cord. Ciupa. Spat. Guzzle. Sanford and Son Theme. 242. Random words to you but each one brings up a memory or two. I bet if I ran into one of the guys from back then I could say any of those words and a 20 minute laugh fest would ensue. Part of my tapestry for sure and not one moment of it would I change. Remember, no regrets. However, I do wonder about the road not taken from time to time. Again with the "what ifs" but now I want to think more about the ifs that did happen.
Are we feathers dancing in the wind of life a la Forrest Gump or is there a grand plan? Don't know. I like to think I'm meant to meet the people I have met and to be truthful, that gives me great comfort. Because some of the people I have met, loved and even lost are so part of me that I can't imagine what I might have been had it not been for these people. Those people that come along that can hold you up when you're at your lowest and bring you back to reality when you're being a dick. And you for them. Those that challenge me, that inspire me, make me laugh....make me a better person just by knowing them....you people rule.
Back to memory lane....grade 13. Yes Virginia, he said 13. Back then in Ontario we had grade 13. An extra year of partying and making memories. In English that year we had independent study as the main focus of our marks, which sounded suspiciously like teach yourself please we are too busy to bother. As per usual I procrastinated till the last two weeks before the due date. I had an idea but that was it. I wasn't worried as I had pulled things out of my butt at the last minute for most of my school life and still managed to get by. So I sat down one night at started typing away. What I thought I was doing was a study in the writing and influence that Ayn Rand had on Neil Peart and Rush. What I had done was regurgitate the same three or four sentences many times and in many forms for 5000 words. This of course wasn't apparent to me but it was to one of my best friends at the time, Connie. I asked her to read it over and suggest improvements. In true friend honesty, she handed it back and asked me if I had hit my head hard somewhere recently. You will fail if you hand that in. Uh oh
She proceeded to lambaste me for screwing around the past year. Spoken only as a friend could, what are you doing man? I know you're having fun and all that but what have you done for you lately. This wasn't about school work, it was about me. I used to fancy myself a bit of a writer guy and she asked me point blank, when was the last time you wrote? What are you thinking about? One of the glues that held us together was our time apart from everyone else in the group, that made her and I such great friends back then. Now, to be fair, I could have responded the same to her as she had started to change as well, and in not in a good way. There is a whole other story here that is kind of painful and sad for me but I guess what we were in the middle of was growing apart. But I didn't say anything because she was right, I was going to fail English. Bad enough my marks in Math were so piss poor but English? Time for a miracle. In three nights I had my study done and done well.
Tying the novels Anthem and We the Living to the Rush epic 2112, detailing the plight of the individual above the state or authority. To follow your passion and to always look to the light, whatever the cost may be. I look back now and cringe that I even read Ayn Rand after she had wrote Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. But I digress, the essay was, as my teacher had wrote, complex and ambitious. I liked that. I liked that she saw potential. An expanding mind.
While I miss the relationship Connie and I had, we have gone on in our own lives, leading the lives that maybe we were meant to lead, I have the memory of what we once were. And I have been fortunate enough to have a few friends like that, weaving in and out of each others lives over the years until you can not see each other for a year and still have the same connection when you sit down across from them. That's special.
A Rush tune on the radio and you get this long winded babble about a stupid essay 30 years ago. But really it was about Connie and everyone else that I have held or now hold dear to me. Ironic that it is 30 years since I really even attempted to write things and now I can't stop myself. A moment in time filled with fear and the unknown brings me to a blog to "put word to paper." Funny how life works.
Ciao
D
So, air drumming away and letting the imagery of the song take me away to when I was in grade 8 I started reminiscing about high school. How music can trigger memories and emotions is wonderful; and the fact that I was going through old photographs of the good ole days the other night I guess I am in a looking back fondly kind of mode. So follow me down memory lane if you will....
I loved high school! For the most part I had a great time, made some excellent memories and still have a small gaggle of friends from that time that I treasure. I understand why people hated it, I get that, I'm just not one of them. I was too busy having fun. Maybe too much fun as my grades would have reflected, whatever! I discovered social life in grade 10, had access to a car in later grades and had a large but close knit group of friends to live and laugh with. As is so often the case these friends have mostly gone off in their own directions and over time contact has been lost. Sad but such is life I guess. But the memories are still there and the stories I could tell. Go on, you tell stories? Would have never have guessed....sheeeessssshhhhhhh
Exploits in my Dad's Nova. The band. The gang. Quebec and Wasaga, or Quebaga. Rudy watch the fucking cord. Ciupa. Spat. Guzzle. Sanford and Son Theme. 242. Random words to you but each one brings up a memory or two. I bet if I ran into one of the guys from back then I could say any of those words and a 20 minute laugh fest would ensue. Part of my tapestry for sure and not one moment of it would I change. Remember, no regrets. However, I do wonder about the road not taken from time to time. Again with the "what ifs" but now I want to think more about the ifs that did happen.
Are we feathers dancing in the wind of life a la Forrest Gump or is there a grand plan? Don't know. I like to think I'm meant to meet the people I have met and to be truthful, that gives me great comfort. Because some of the people I have met, loved and even lost are so part of me that I can't imagine what I might have been had it not been for these people. Those people that come along that can hold you up when you're at your lowest and bring you back to reality when you're being a dick. And you for them. Those that challenge me, that inspire me, make me laugh....make me a better person just by knowing them....you people rule.
Back to memory lane....grade 13. Yes Virginia, he said 13. Back then in Ontario we had grade 13. An extra year of partying and making memories. In English that year we had independent study as the main focus of our marks, which sounded suspiciously like teach yourself please we are too busy to bother. As per usual I procrastinated till the last two weeks before the due date. I had an idea but that was it. I wasn't worried as I had pulled things out of my butt at the last minute for most of my school life and still managed to get by. So I sat down one night at started typing away. What I thought I was doing was a study in the writing and influence that Ayn Rand had on Neil Peart and Rush. What I had done was regurgitate the same three or four sentences many times and in many forms for 5000 words. This of course wasn't apparent to me but it was to one of my best friends at the time, Connie. I asked her to read it over and suggest improvements. In true friend honesty, she handed it back and asked me if I had hit my head hard somewhere recently. You will fail if you hand that in. Uh oh
She proceeded to lambaste me for screwing around the past year. Spoken only as a friend could, what are you doing man? I know you're having fun and all that but what have you done for you lately. This wasn't about school work, it was about me. I used to fancy myself a bit of a writer guy and she asked me point blank, when was the last time you wrote? What are you thinking about? One of the glues that held us together was our time apart from everyone else in the group, that made her and I such great friends back then. Now, to be fair, I could have responded the same to her as she had started to change as well, and in not in a good way. There is a whole other story here that is kind of painful and sad for me but I guess what we were in the middle of was growing apart. But I didn't say anything because she was right, I was going to fail English. Bad enough my marks in Math were so piss poor but English? Time for a miracle. In three nights I had my study done and done well.
Tying the novels Anthem and We the Living to the Rush epic 2112, detailing the plight of the individual above the state or authority. To follow your passion and to always look to the light, whatever the cost may be. I look back now and cringe that I even read Ayn Rand after she had wrote Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. But I digress, the essay was, as my teacher had wrote, complex and ambitious. I liked that. I liked that she saw potential. An expanding mind.
While I miss the relationship Connie and I had, we have gone on in our own lives, leading the lives that maybe we were meant to lead, I have the memory of what we once were. And I have been fortunate enough to have a few friends like that, weaving in and out of each others lives over the years until you can not see each other for a year and still have the same connection when you sit down across from them. That's special.
A Rush tune on the radio and you get this long winded babble about a stupid essay 30 years ago. But really it was about Connie and everyone else that I have held or now hold dear to me. Ironic that it is 30 years since I really even attempted to write things and now I can't stop myself. A moment in time filled with fear and the unknown brings me to a blog to "put word to paper." Funny how life works.
Ciao
D
Tuesday, 14 June 2016
I'm sorry officer....
For all my shenanigans and anarchist lite tilt, I really haven't been in trouble with the law much. Save for driving infractions that run from speeding to what is known as dangerous driving or stunting nowadays, I have been quite lucky that I haven't been caught much less punished. The few times I have been forced to speak to the fine men in blue would have been either minor or pure happenstance.
Like the time my friend Danny and I were picked up on New Years Day walking though a blizzard back to my place to watch football. We were coming back from a brutal shift at work...dish pit for 600 people please, still hung over from the previous nights fun. I'm sure we looked suspicious as hell to the local constabulary. In the back seat we go. And we get the 20 questions. I had nothing to fear because I knew I didn't do anything lately that would warrant a warrant. Danny was pretty nervous though, maybe he was packing heat? In any event, as the fine officers drove us home they asked about a series of break ins in the area. Nope, don't know who could be doing such a thing sir. Sure we'll keep our eyes open. Are you crazy...I'm pretty sure I knew exactly who was doing it and I knew I wouldn't say a thing because that guy was as crazy as a loon and would stab you for looking at him the wrong way or wearing a Blue Jays hat. Go ahead man, take the stereo and my mom keeps her jewellery in the left drawer...ha I got out of the blizzard for a few minutes and that was that.
My driving exploits were a totally different beast entirely. For certain I was guilty every time I was stopped and probably for more than they had ever seen prior to pulling me over. I am very confident behind a wheel. I drive safe in my mind and I am aware of what I and my machine can do. So I never felt that any of the stunts I had pulled were even remotely unsafe. I could see them unfolding like Gretzky see's the ice. My dads Chevy Nova was my faithful steed. Plastic seats that burned your ass in the summer. Would still run even if you pulled the key out of the ignition. Trunk was covered in some sort of tar like substance that would cover the cases from our instruments and could beat my buddy's Camero in a drag race. Dad, if you're reading this, the statute of limitations has passed.
So, one fine night I was driving home from Burlington to my place in Etobicoke. I hurt myself just saying that sentence, so shut up. It was the end of a long night at the end of a long week working at a golf club way out there. It was mothers day, and for those of you that know, you know what that means. Stupid busy. It was about 2:00 am because I am sure we sat around after work with a couple of pints shooting the shit as we usually did. Clipping along at my normal 130km/h I was over tired and I knew it. Windows were wide open, music was blaring and I may have been stabbing myself with a pocket knife I used to have. Doesn't matter...I can fall asleep in a dentists chair while he works on me...so I'm pretty sure I dozed in and out while driving. Sadly a common occurrence back in those days.
Coming home along the 401 there is a long sweeping left curve as I merged onto the 427. Somehow I made it without hitting anything or launching myself off the overpass. I say somehow because I don't remember doing it. I was on the 427 and didn't remember the last five minutes. Nothing. Right there I came to the conclusion that I was better off doing 50 on a road as opposed to 130 on the highway. So off I went, driving up Martingrove road very late in the evening. I came to a red light. I noticed there was a car next to me and behind this car was a police officer. Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! So I promptly fell asleep. When I awoke I saw a green light so I proceeded through the intersection. Uh oh. I just ran a red light. Seems the green light I saw was the opposing lane of traffic. I had a micro sleep and just ran a red light. Sure enough the cherries are going off and I pulled right over.
I should mention that the last ticket I had had pushed me to the brink of losing my licence. One more infraction and I was without access to a vehicle. I knew I was dead...no excuse, no hope of salvation. I still don't know why I did what I did but I did it. When I pulled over, almost by instinct I got out of my car. The police car hadn't even pulled up behind me yet and I was scoping out my car looking worried and confused (ok, the confused look is natural). When the officer finally got over to me I was running on reflex. "Sir, what are you doing?" he asked. I'm sorry officer, this is going to sound strange, but I thought I was hit from behind and that's why I pulled out...I was trying to get out of the way. So I figured something on my car made a noise. I'm kind of tired from work and all, but I swear I heard and felt something. And then he did the craziest thing, he started looking around my car as well....looking seriously for the cause of the noise. Uhmmmm, ok then.
After a few seconds, he turns and says"maybe something in your trunk moved?" Oh, you know what, my knife toolkit is in there, maybe that moved. I still had my work clothes on so maybe he made a connection. I opened my trunk and showed him the big red tool kit. Ignoring the obviosu how does an idle car have something move around in it...."Hmmmmm, strange." Yeah is all I could muster. I'm really sorry about this officer.....he stops me, "licence and registration please." Total deflate....sir, I hope I'm ok, I know I'm tired and all that but I really can't afford to get another ticket. "Don't worry, just need to check."
Uhm....phew. He comes back a minute later, hands me my papers back and wishes me a good night. Holy Hannah Batman...how the hell did that happen. Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! I made it home without further incident. About as lucky as you get. Except that I was even luckier another time....but that's a story for another day.
See....I flirted with but never really paid the price on a legal basis, unless you count speeding tickets and crap like that.
Like the time my friend Danny and I were picked up on New Years Day walking though a blizzard back to my place to watch football. We were coming back from a brutal shift at work...dish pit for 600 people please, still hung over from the previous nights fun. I'm sure we looked suspicious as hell to the local constabulary. In the back seat we go. And we get the 20 questions. I had nothing to fear because I knew I didn't do anything lately that would warrant a warrant. Danny was pretty nervous though, maybe he was packing heat? In any event, as the fine officers drove us home they asked about a series of break ins in the area. Nope, don't know who could be doing such a thing sir. Sure we'll keep our eyes open. Are you crazy...I'm pretty sure I knew exactly who was doing it and I knew I wouldn't say a thing because that guy was as crazy as a loon and would stab you for looking at him the wrong way or wearing a Blue Jays hat. Go ahead man, take the stereo and my mom keeps her jewellery in the left drawer...ha I got out of the blizzard for a few minutes and that was that.
My driving exploits were a totally different beast entirely. For certain I was guilty every time I was stopped and probably for more than they had ever seen prior to pulling me over. I am very confident behind a wheel. I drive safe in my mind and I am aware of what I and my machine can do. So I never felt that any of the stunts I had pulled were even remotely unsafe. I could see them unfolding like Gretzky see's the ice. My dads Chevy Nova was my faithful steed. Plastic seats that burned your ass in the summer. Would still run even if you pulled the key out of the ignition. Trunk was covered in some sort of tar like substance that would cover the cases from our instruments and could beat my buddy's Camero in a drag race. Dad, if you're reading this, the statute of limitations has passed.
So, one fine night I was driving home from Burlington to my place in Etobicoke. I hurt myself just saying that sentence, so shut up. It was the end of a long night at the end of a long week working at a golf club way out there. It was mothers day, and for those of you that know, you know what that means. Stupid busy. It was about 2:00 am because I am sure we sat around after work with a couple of pints shooting the shit as we usually did. Clipping along at my normal 130km/h I was over tired and I knew it. Windows were wide open, music was blaring and I may have been stabbing myself with a pocket knife I used to have. Doesn't matter...I can fall asleep in a dentists chair while he works on me...so I'm pretty sure I dozed in and out while driving. Sadly a common occurrence back in those days.
Coming home along the 401 there is a long sweeping left curve as I merged onto the 427. Somehow I made it without hitting anything or launching myself off the overpass. I say somehow because I don't remember doing it. I was on the 427 and didn't remember the last five minutes. Nothing. Right there I came to the conclusion that I was better off doing 50 on a road as opposed to 130 on the highway. So off I went, driving up Martingrove road very late in the evening. I came to a red light. I noticed there was a car next to me and behind this car was a police officer. Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! So I promptly fell asleep. When I awoke I saw a green light so I proceeded through the intersection. Uh oh. I just ran a red light. Seems the green light I saw was the opposing lane of traffic. I had a micro sleep and just ran a red light. Sure enough the cherries are going off and I pulled right over.
I should mention that the last ticket I had had pushed me to the brink of losing my licence. One more infraction and I was without access to a vehicle. I knew I was dead...no excuse, no hope of salvation. I still don't know why I did what I did but I did it. When I pulled over, almost by instinct I got out of my car. The police car hadn't even pulled up behind me yet and I was scoping out my car looking worried and confused (ok, the confused look is natural). When the officer finally got over to me I was running on reflex. "Sir, what are you doing?" he asked. I'm sorry officer, this is going to sound strange, but I thought I was hit from behind and that's why I pulled out...I was trying to get out of the way. So I figured something on my car made a noise. I'm kind of tired from work and all, but I swear I heard and felt something. And then he did the craziest thing, he started looking around my car as well....looking seriously for the cause of the noise. Uhmmmm, ok then.
After a few seconds, he turns and says"maybe something in your trunk moved?" Oh, you know what, my knife toolkit is in there, maybe that moved. I still had my work clothes on so maybe he made a connection. I opened my trunk and showed him the big red tool kit. Ignoring the obviosu how does an idle car have something move around in it...."Hmmmmm, strange." Yeah is all I could muster. I'm really sorry about this officer.....he stops me, "licence and registration please." Total deflate....sir, I hope I'm ok, I know I'm tired and all that but I really can't afford to get another ticket. "Don't worry, just need to check."
Uhm....phew. He comes back a minute later, hands me my papers back and wishes me a good night. Holy Hannah Batman...how the hell did that happen. Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep! I made it home without further incident. About as lucky as you get. Except that I was even luckier another time....but that's a story for another day.
See....I flirted with but never really paid the price on a legal basis, unless you count speeding tickets and crap like that.
Monday, 13 June 2016
Just stop
After a wonderful weekend filled with hope and promise this morning I find myself casting about feeling angry and helpless. I'm speaking of the horrific slaughter of 50 people in Orlando. The fuck wad who got six months for being a convicted rapist. Anything that Drumph has said. The year 2016 taking away legends and a seemingly unprecedented rate. The list is endless and I don't know why today is any different for me but I feel the need to just say something.
Can we just stop? Stop the killing, the hate, the misogyny, the racism, the stupidity. How have we come so far in the wonders around us to be still acting this way? How is it possible that hearts can be filled with so much hate for a particular gender, race, creed or orientation? Seriously, how? I'm really asking. I don't get it. I know it's human nature to blame but how does shooting up a LGBTQ club make you feel better because your son witnessed two guys kissing. What the fuck is your son gonna think now? You're dead, you got off easy.This carnage that you caused will ripple on forever...not only in the peoples lives directly affected but the rest of us as well. Your religion made you do it? Your fear of gays made you do it? Really? Go fuck yourself.
And you, Brock whatever your last name is. Go fuck yourself. You, the judge and your dad can all go fuck yourselves. Your life shouldn't be ruined for twenty minutes of a mistake? How dare you? I read the statement from the girl you raped. Through tears I dreamed of punching you in the throat...really hard. See how well you swim after not being able to breathe you little fuck.
I know deep down that it is never just one thing that can be blamed. Religion, gun laws, economics, upbringing, fear......these and many more have a hand in shaping people into doing unthinkable things. So having an answer to make sense of it all so we can 'fix' the problem is like pushing on the ocean. An impossible dream it seems. But we keep moving forward, through unimaginable pain we must move forward. To follow in the belief that tomorrow will be better, that hope is not false. Today is hard and my heart goes out to all who are in tears.
Hug your loved ones
D
Can we just stop? Stop the killing, the hate, the misogyny, the racism, the stupidity. How have we come so far in the wonders around us to be still acting this way? How is it possible that hearts can be filled with so much hate for a particular gender, race, creed or orientation? Seriously, how? I'm really asking. I don't get it. I know it's human nature to blame but how does shooting up a LGBTQ club make you feel better because your son witnessed two guys kissing. What the fuck is your son gonna think now? You're dead, you got off easy.This carnage that you caused will ripple on forever...not only in the peoples lives directly affected but the rest of us as well. Your religion made you do it? Your fear of gays made you do it? Really? Go fuck yourself.
And you, Brock whatever your last name is. Go fuck yourself. You, the judge and your dad can all go fuck yourselves. Your life shouldn't be ruined for twenty minutes of a mistake? How dare you? I read the statement from the girl you raped. Through tears I dreamed of punching you in the throat...really hard. See how well you swim after not being able to breathe you little fuck.
I know deep down that it is never just one thing that can be blamed. Religion, gun laws, economics, upbringing, fear......these and many more have a hand in shaping people into doing unthinkable things. So having an answer to make sense of it all so we can 'fix' the problem is like pushing on the ocean. An impossible dream it seems. But we keep moving forward, through unimaginable pain we must move forward. To follow in the belief that tomorrow will be better, that hope is not false. Today is hard and my heart goes out to all who are in tears.
Hug your loved ones
D
Saturday, 11 June 2016
Epictetus made me do it
"If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid." Thank you Epictetus. You have provided myself and all watchers of the movie Serendipity a way of verbalising what we may not have known about ourselves. It's ok to be different, it's ok to be you. Because really, who are you going to be if not you? And once you stop worrying about what others think of you, the possibilities are endless. I found my freedom in grade nine and haven't looked back much since. And with my divorce it seems things have been thrown into hyper drive on being "foolish and stupid"...just saying.
Ok....check this video out, and once you have dried your eyes you can come back:
http://30-years.dailymegabyte.com/ex-lovers-meet-each-other-after-30-years/
That, that right there, is simply amazing. No words, just a connection that has waited 30 plus years to be re-established. A moment in time where the rawness of emotion comes rocketing to the surface, there is no armour, there is only sweet pain. And at the risk of sounding sappy, that's what it is all about for me now. Take hold of what I have in me now and I will let myself go for you. It's that simple. No pretension, no fear and no turning back. How did that guy not cry his eyes out?
"Donde hay amor, hay dolor" Where there is love, there is pain. Think about that for a moment. The ups and downs of our relationships, all of them, are fraught with ultimate highs and painful lows at various points in the life of them. It can be hard. Life can be hard. But at the end of the day what we take away and choose to focus on is what will define us over the course of our lives.
More to the point, how we perceive the world and how it perceives us is based on all of our experiences to that point. It is easy to fall into the belief that the world sucks, for a lot of the time it does, but there is also so much to be in awe of...if we allow it to show itself to us. If we choose to step away from the darkness and into the light - "Darkness has a hunger that is insatiable and lightness has a call that's hard to hear." Take from that lyric what you will. Satan and his merry men against Jesus and the magnificent twelve - fill your boots. I like it for its humanistic message. We choose everyday how we will find the day. What do you choose? Wanna take a guess at my choice....hint, read the title.
This really short post is really about that video....the emotions it stirred in me. The memories of things said and unsaid. And since this is my blog and you're not the boss of me, I get to write whatever I want...ha!
Much love and peace to you all
Ciao
D
Ok....check this video out, and once you have dried your eyes you can come back:
http://30-years.dailymegabyte.com/ex-lovers-meet-each-other-after-30-years/
That, that right there, is simply amazing. No words, just a connection that has waited 30 plus years to be re-established. A moment in time where the rawness of emotion comes rocketing to the surface, there is no armour, there is only sweet pain. And at the risk of sounding sappy, that's what it is all about for me now. Take hold of what I have in me now and I will let myself go for you. It's that simple. No pretension, no fear and no turning back. How did that guy not cry his eyes out?
"Donde hay amor, hay dolor" Where there is love, there is pain. Think about that for a moment. The ups and downs of our relationships, all of them, are fraught with ultimate highs and painful lows at various points in the life of them. It can be hard. Life can be hard. But at the end of the day what we take away and choose to focus on is what will define us over the course of our lives.
More to the point, how we perceive the world and how it perceives us is based on all of our experiences to that point. It is easy to fall into the belief that the world sucks, for a lot of the time it does, but there is also so much to be in awe of...if we allow it to show itself to us. If we choose to step away from the darkness and into the light - "Darkness has a hunger that is insatiable and lightness has a call that's hard to hear." Take from that lyric what you will. Satan and his merry men against Jesus and the magnificent twelve - fill your boots. I like it for its humanistic message. We choose everyday how we will find the day. What do you choose? Wanna take a guess at my choice....hint, read the title.
This really short post is really about that video....the emotions it stirred in me. The memories of things said and unsaid. And since this is my blog and you're not the boss of me, I get to write whatever I want...ha!
Much love and peace to you all
Ciao
D
Thursday, 9 June 2016
Simon Julian Steele
Bittersweet is all I can say when I think of this coming Saturday. My son has his prom that day, another milestone in my boys life that will be something to look back on with some pride and hopefully a funny story or two. Saturday is also the funeral service for my best friends son, who passed away in January of 2014 from leukemia. Here is a link to a little information on him if you wish to read it:
http://www2.coasttocoastagainstcancer.org/ambassadors/simon-julian-steele/
You see, Simon and my son Liam were the same age, and they grew up a few doors away from each other in Lunenburg. They played together when they were younger...more like they got into trouble together when they were younger. Unfortunately I won't be able to attend Simon's service because of prom activities, hence the bittersweet. I really wanted to be there for Scott and his family. They are some great people that were truly inspirational to me when they were going through this tragedy. Their sense humour and a humanist approach to life in general really was an unbelievable thing to witness.
When I would talk to friends about Simon being sick and his prognosis the most common response was always, I can't even imagine. And you can't. I can't. It's too painful to even think of much less go through. But Scott, Fiona, Courtney and Sarah were grace and humour personified. This was not some unfair happenstance or part of God's plan to them, their son was broken on the inside and for all the passion and dedication that the doctors and nurses attacked this bastard with, somethings simply cannot be fixed. Fuck Cancer!!! To be a small part in the worst thing imaginable for a parent, I learned that what matters is the here and now when living through hell. It was hard and painful.....and I can't even imagine.
I guess two or three stories come to mind when I think of Simon. Two of them involved Liam and Simon getting into mischief, as kids are wont to do, while playing at Scott's house down the road from us. As Scott tells it, on one occasion he was at the sink washing dishes in front of a large window. A black something flew past his field of view and he didn't think anything of it. Then another, and another....uh oh. Out he went to investigate and sure enough, Liam and Simon are on the roof over the garage ripping shingles off and throwing them around like so many Frisbee's. I ended up coming over with some spare shingles to cobble together a roof covering.
I might add that Scott doesn't hear that well and he can be forgiven in not following the golden rule when it comes to kids....if there is silence there is mischief and probably damage happening. On occasion two he noticed water coming from the ceiling. Springing up the stairs he finds two boys giggling as they watch water running from the cast iron radiator spigots...ugh
On a couple occasions a year Scott and I will go up to his cottage to have a guys weekend away. No spa treatments though, just beer, wine and food with a lot of profanity laced conversation and observation. On one such occasion I had stopped into Lunenburg to pick up Mr Steele for our little mini vacay. As I waited inside talking to Scott and Fiona as Scott was getting ready, they mentioned that "Simon" was upstairs playing. I didn't think anything of it. Then they did it again, "Simon" is doing this and that. Excuse me, who the hell is Simon? OH, funny story, Simon is Julian. Before Simon became Simon, he was always Julian to me. That's how we knew him, Julian. Seems Julian decided one day at school to go by Simon. Just like that he only answered to Simon. And kept it up...always. My youngest Cora thought she would do this at one point, she wanted to go by Elizabeth. It lasted less than a day, especially since I was calling her Lizzy. But Simon stayed true.
He was a character to be sure. Their whole brood is actually, original and unique kids that will grow up to be original people. It's a privilege to be a part of their lives, all of them. I can't believe it's been two and half years since he passed away. A beautiful boy that had his race in life cut short by malignant microscopic cells...truly a sad thing. Fuck Cancer!!!
So, I will be thinking of the Steele family this Saturday at 1:11 pm, wishing I was there to raise a glass of Scotch to a boy that showed a zest for life, bravery beyond compare and smile that could light up a room.
Cheers Simon
http://www2.coasttocoastagainstcancer.org/ambassadors/simon-julian-steele/
You see, Simon and my son Liam were the same age, and they grew up a few doors away from each other in Lunenburg. They played together when they were younger...more like they got into trouble together when they were younger. Unfortunately I won't be able to attend Simon's service because of prom activities, hence the bittersweet. I really wanted to be there for Scott and his family. They are some great people that were truly inspirational to me when they were going through this tragedy. Their sense humour and a humanist approach to life in general really was an unbelievable thing to witness.
When I would talk to friends about Simon being sick and his prognosis the most common response was always, I can't even imagine. And you can't. I can't. It's too painful to even think of much less go through. But Scott, Fiona, Courtney and Sarah were grace and humour personified. This was not some unfair happenstance or part of God's plan to them, their son was broken on the inside and for all the passion and dedication that the doctors and nurses attacked this bastard with, somethings simply cannot be fixed. Fuck Cancer!!! To be a small part in the worst thing imaginable for a parent, I learned that what matters is the here and now when living through hell. It was hard and painful.....and I can't even imagine.
I guess two or three stories come to mind when I think of Simon. Two of them involved Liam and Simon getting into mischief, as kids are wont to do, while playing at Scott's house down the road from us. As Scott tells it, on one occasion he was at the sink washing dishes in front of a large window. A black something flew past his field of view and he didn't think anything of it. Then another, and another....uh oh. Out he went to investigate and sure enough, Liam and Simon are on the roof over the garage ripping shingles off and throwing them around like so many Frisbee's. I ended up coming over with some spare shingles to cobble together a roof covering.
I might add that Scott doesn't hear that well and he can be forgiven in not following the golden rule when it comes to kids....if there is silence there is mischief and probably damage happening. On occasion two he noticed water coming from the ceiling. Springing up the stairs he finds two boys giggling as they watch water running from the cast iron radiator spigots...ugh
On a couple occasions a year Scott and I will go up to his cottage to have a guys weekend away. No spa treatments though, just beer, wine and food with a lot of profanity laced conversation and observation. On one such occasion I had stopped into Lunenburg to pick up Mr Steele for our little mini vacay. As I waited inside talking to Scott and Fiona as Scott was getting ready, they mentioned that "Simon" was upstairs playing. I didn't think anything of it. Then they did it again, "Simon" is doing this and that. Excuse me, who the hell is Simon? OH, funny story, Simon is Julian. Before Simon became Simon, he was always Julian to me. That's how we knew him, Julian. Seems Julian decided one day at school to go by Simon. Just like that he only answered to Simon. And kept it up...always. My youngest Cora thought she would do this at one point, she wanted to go by Elizabeth. It lasted less than a day, especially since I was calling her Lizzy. But Simon stayed true.
He was a character to be sure. Their whole brood is actually, original and unique kids that will grow up to be original people. It's a privilege to be a part of their lives, all of them. I can't believe it's been two and half years since he passed away. A beautiful boy that had his race in life cut short by malignant microscopic cells...truly a sad thing. Fuck Cancer!!!
So, I will be thinking of the Steele family this Saturday at 1:11 pm, wishing I was there to raise a glass of Scotch to a boy that showed a zest for life, bravery beyond compare and smile that could light up a room.
Cheers Simon
Tuesday, 7 June 2016
Only you dad
When my oldest daughter was six or seven years old I took her out trick or treating with her friend Johnny. As we trudged around the suburbs of Lunenburg, marvelling at all the coffee crisp bars I was going to get and enjoying the night with my daughter, I must have made a comment to Johnny that was meant to be funny. He looked up at me with the kind of look that makes grown adults feel stupid and said what? Without missing a beat my daughter chimed in with "don't worry, he does that" Ha!!! High five for you kiddo! So perceptive. So true.
As you may have gathered I love telling stories. Dating stories, stories from high school days, growing up stories, work stories...just stories. In fact, stories may be one of my other super powers. I can't tell a joke to save my life but I can come up with a good yarn from time to time. On my drives into work in the morning I am lucky enough to have my daughter with me as I drive her to work or school, and sure enough a story or two will pop in...I like making her laugh with my antics and she is the one that coined the post title.
Earlier I asked you to remind me of how I ended up singing in a mall in grade three. You didn't....again, but here is the story. How did this come to pass? Because of a girl of course. I had a little boy crush on a girl named Tina in grade three, even though I was not so secretly in love with Tammy, my first crush from grade two. Following me? One day, on the PA it was announced that all the participants from the previous years production of Oliver were to come down to a vestibule on the main floor, for acoustics I assume, to try out for a special project. York Woods Gate Public School was not a large school and one would think that the organizers would know if someone was in a play from the year before. So what...I went anyway. Because Tina had gotten up and I didn't really like Ms Kitchen anyway.
I didn't even know we had the capacity to put on a production in our school so it comes as no surprise that I didn't know any lyrics or what the hell Oliver even was, but there I stood, sheepishly in the back mouthing along until I could get the flow of things and stammer through on later tries. Hey, I might just pull this off. Why is the teacher looking at me? Uh oh...busted. "Daniel, can you come to the front please." Crap. Pretend you didn't hear her, yeah that's it. Except everyone is looking at me and wondering how the hell I was even there. I seem to recall someone trying to rat me out as well. This was not going to end well. "Yes Miss?" I finally replied. "Come up to the front please." Uhm...."I'm ok back here." The look I got was enough to propel me to the front. I don't know but I managed to stammer through well enough that I made the cut, go figure.
Fast forward a few weeks and I am in the choir and Tina is a leading lady. I figured I was safe enough in the back ground that my natural shyness and fear of public speaking would be under control. On the night of the performance at some crap ass mall, Tina's leading man never showed up. "Daniel, we need you to sing with Tina." What? No seriously, what? And there it came to pass that I, with a fear of public speaking was down on one knee singing up to Tina "I would do anything, for you girl, anything"
My life has been peppered with stories such as these. Sometimes they make for good conversation over drinks, certainly they are worth a few laughs, but I think the greatest thing I can think of is that it leaves my kids with my legacy. I could not care less about "stuff", but my memories and the things that make me, me...are going to live with my kids for years to come. That stuff is important. My kids know without a shadow of a doubt how much I love them and how bone headed silly I can be. Throw in that I'm not entirely stupid and I'm good to go. In the grand scheme of things, that makes me smile.
Ciao
D
Monday, 6 June 2016
Tales from beyond the pass, a prelude
"Chef, do you know where the bacon stretcher is?" Ahhhhhhh, my most recent hire is being put through his paces. Stifling a laugh with a well placed finger and a look that makes people think I am pondering deeply, I turn towards said young grasshopper and send him back upstairs to look for the bacon stretcher, as I was sure it was in the same place as the lobster gun. With an accurate description of exactly where the utensils were I sent him on his way. He returned a few minutes later, "Brian said it was down here Chef." Tell Brian I'm positive it is in the back beside the lobster gun and electric egg peeler, oh, and can you come back down with a bucket of steam please....hehehehe
I like a little anarchy. I like when people bend the rules and sometimes even when they break them. I have a soft spot for my team members that can push an envelope in the interest of entertainment and tom foolery. I suppose it reminds me of me; birds of a feather and all that jazz. Nothing too crazy of course and not if someone gets hurt in any way shape or form. Someone once thought it was a good idea to ridicule a servers sexual preference out loud and within ear shot of me. It was not pretty. I rarely get angry and I don't need to yell; this day I got angry and ran up and down this guy for five minutes. I was told after the fact that he cried. It was not my intention to make him cry but his performance and behaviour was sub par at best and this episode came at the end of my rope with him. I'm told I can be intimidating when I give the "look". Not sure what it looks like as I don't carry a mirror with me at all times, but I can see where it comes from. Thankfully I don't have to do it often, in fact it's been about 6 years since the last time...I might be due.
Our young recruit above made another trip downstairs to explain that Brian couldn't stop laughing and that he wanted to shake my hand for holding it together....uhm sure, but where is my bucket of steam? Priceless look on his face. It's a good day when you can have a little fun to pass the time away.
In over 30 years in this business you would be right in assuming that there are a lot of stories but thankfully only a few videos and photos. Thank God for that of course. Humour and music are the constants in most kitchens. Oh, and food too. I've watched a gaggle of cooks dance in unison behind the line to Twist and Shout. Dishwashers air guitar to Crazy Train and, well...it goes on and on. Right at this moment Sex is on Fire is playing away, which is a site better than the "new"country music that was playing earlier. It may be my kitchen but I let the team decide what's playing on the radio...I've been known to put CBC Radio One on, so it's best to let them have their way. And as I've said before, we have an uncanny ability to sexualize any song, interchanging lyrics for body parts and innuendo, it's almost a right of passage in itself, CBC doesn't offer as many opportunities for said vulgarity.
Another right of passage is getting people to eat things they really shouldn't without prior medical consultation. Wasabi ice cream anyone? Breaded cardboard passing for a schnitzel...seen it. Ghost pepper hot enough for you my young padawan? We do like to fool around, and my God how certain people can find illegal ways to obtain...anything really. Did you know if you put a steel in this opening and pull back a bit you can get into the liquor lock up? Did you know that the kegs are left tapped at the end of the shift? Oh yeah, cooks like to have free booze. Which usually works out well because the bartender wants free food. Like hand in glove a crooked bartender and a shifty line cook can cause havoc...HR issues always...haha
So between chopping flour, searching for lobster guns and getting tricked into eating a spoonful of wasabi; not getting paid very well, long hours and crazy working conditions; why do we do it? Easy, normal society wouldn't let us work in an office for fear of having ass pictures on your photocopier, which of course means there was a bare ass on your photocopier...ugh There is easy access to any vice you may have, because everyone knows a guy that knows a guy and easier acceptance for that vice. Tribe mentality comes into play here as we do tend to protect our own because we need every body we can get our hands on. Sous chef is comatose on his days off? As long as he shows up here at noon on Tuesday to take over things I don't care. I'll help him if he wants it but I need him at work, lest I end up on line making food....triple ugh.
This is a lead off to more stories in the days and weeks to come. Softening the ground so it doesn't seem as crazy as it is, even though it is absolutely that crazy.
Ciao
D
I like a little anarchy. I like when people bend the rules and sometimes even when they break them. I have a soft spot for my team members that can push an envelope in the interest of entertainment and tom foolery. I suppose it reminds me of me; birds of a feather and all that jazz. Nothing too crazy of course and not if someone gets hurt in any way shape or form. Someone once thought it was a good idea to ridicule a servers sexual preference out loud and within ear shot of me. It was not pretty. I rarely get angry and I don't need to yell; this day I got angry and ran up and down this guy for five minutes. I was told after the fact that he cried. It was not my intention to make him cry but his performance and behaviour was sub par at best and this episode came at the end of my rope with him. I'm told I can be intimidating when I give the "look". Not sure what it looks like as I don't carry a mirror with me at all times, but I can see where it comes from. Thankfully I don't have to do it often, in fact it's been about 6 years since the last time...I might be due.
Our young recruit above made another trip downstairs to explain that Brian couldn't stop laughing and that he wanted to shake my hand for holding it together....uhm sure, but where is my bucket of steam? Priceless look on his face. It's a good day when you can have a little fun to pass the time away.
In over 30 years in this business you would be right in assuming that there are a lot of stories but thankfully only a few videos and photos. Thank God for that of course. Humour and music are the constants in most kitchens. Oh, and food too. I've watched a gaggle of cooks dance in unison behind the line to Twist and Shout. Dishwashers air guitar to Crazy Train and, well...it goes on and on. Right at this moment Sex is on Fire is playing away, which is a site better than the "new"country music that was playing earlier. It may be my kitchen but I let the team decide what's playing on the radio...I've been known to put CBC Radio One on, so it's best to let them have their way. And as I've said before, we have an uncanny ability to sexualize any song, interchanging lyrics for body parts and innuendo, it's almost a right of passage in itself, CBC doesn't offer as many opportunities for said vulgarity.
Another right of passage is getting people to eat things they really shouldn't without prior medical consultation. Wasabi ice cream anyone? Breaded cardboard passing for a schnitzel...seen it. Ghost pepper hot enough for you my young padawan? We do like to fool around, and my God how certain people can find illegal ways to obtain...anything really. Did you know if you put a steel in this opening and pull back a bit you can get into the liquor lock up? Did you know that the kegs are left tapped at the end of the shift? Oh yeah, cooks like to have free booze. Which usually works out well because the bartender wants free food. Like hand in glove a crooked bartender and a shifty line cook can cause havoc...HR issues always...haha
So between chopping flour, searching for lobster guns and getting tricked into eating a spoonful of wasabi; not getting paid very well, long hours and crazy working conditions; why do we do it? Easy, normal society wouldn't let us work in an office for fear of having ass pictures on your photocopier, which of course means there was a bare ass on your photocopier...ugh There is easy access to any vice you may have, because everyone knows a guy that knows a guy and easier acceptance for that vice. Tribe mentality comes into play here as we do tend to protect our own because we need every body we can get our hands on. Sous chef is comatose on his days off? As long as he shows up here at noon on Tuesday to take over things I don't care. I'll help him if he wants it but I need him at work, lest I end up on line making food....triple ugh.
This is a lead off to more stories in the days and weeks to come. Softening the ground so it doesn't seem as crazy as it is, even though it is absolutely that crazy.
Ciao
D
Friday, 3 June 2016
Food, wine and the meaning of life
Hahaha, that actually made me laugh to type the title above. What the hell do I know about life, much less the meaning of it all? Sure I can tell you what works for me but who cares about that, other than me. Food and wine are different topics but the same response applies...WTF!!!
When I sit down to start typing I'm never quite sure where it will end up or even what I am trying to say, and that's ok because all I am doing is thinking out loud, sort of. In this case, what drove me to start hitting the keys, was the clip from the movie Sideways about the life of wine. A wonderful movie that is easily one of the best movies about something I love, wine.
Miles and Maya are sitting comfortably numb getting to know each other. Call is sexual tension if you will but I think it is on a much deeper level, exposing your soul to a virtual stranger because you sense that maybe this one is different and you are tired of being afraid. Maya launches into a poetic and beautiful soliloquy about the relationship between wine, seasons, people and the passage of time. I can never do it justice so please look it up on YouTube. When you're done, come back and continue reading...
Now that you're back...think of Miles. Look at his face when she is talking. That sound you heard was him falling for her. The "I get you and you get me" feeling is so elusive in life that when confronted with it we can be dumbfounded. His face is all subtlety but so impassioned. He has fallen in love. And.........then he let fear come back in. That sound was the floor dropping out from this potential relationship. A beautiful scene. Big dummy Miles!!!!
I might have mentioned previously that a good friend of mine once told me that she was not going to let fear rule her life. Being relatively stupid and naive I wasn't sure what she meant. Fear of getting hitting by a car? Fear of heights? Fear of rectangles? No stupid, the fear of letting yourself open up. Be willing to be vulnerable, to get hurt, to suffer, because then you can truly experience the true possibilities of life. To find happiness. To find love. I immediately took on that idea as one of my mantras. Sure things can be scary, but I'm not going to let that change my outlook. Bring it on sister.
Drifting off to the left now, let us examine the food aspect of this post. Namely my ideas on what good food is about. This is where I may climb up on a soap box for a bit, please indulge me. If not...whatever.
Stop fucking around with food!!!! If you've read my description of those tomatoes I ate in Croatia you will have a sense of what I think good food is about....good ingredients. Treat them with respect and try to do little to them so as not to screw up what a dedicated farmer, grower, fisherman or what have you has done to bring you that morsel of food. Talk to a farmer and see the passion in their eyes as they describe their crop or the how they treat their cows and pigs. Why in the world would you then turn to "show business" to cook that food? Case in point - I watched a chef take cherry tomatoes, cover them in liquid nitrogen to freeze them. Once frozen he roughly broke them up to produce a shattered effect. That's it. This was the height of gastronomy for this clown. I seriously wanted to put his head in the bowl and pour liquid nitrogen on it....stupid melon head. I sat in on a demonstration at a food show a few years ago and this chef was demonstrating some of the beautiful things you can do with chemicals. He took 1 cup of peanut butter and blitzed it with 1 cup of lecithin to produce peanut butter powder that you can use as a sort of seasoning. Now I can appreciate the avenues that this opens up for me as a chef but can it be good to be ingesting that kind of chemical on a regular basis. Oh...and if you have to be careful of breathing something in lest it fuse your lungs together why the fuck would you use "meat glue" AKA transglutaminase.
I can appreciate the beauty of what some of these molecular chefs are creating and I don't think it deters from their skills as chefs, but I can't help thinking this is the latest fad in cooking. It already is waning of course so I think I am right but the larger issue, for me at least, is why are we going down that path in the first place. For show? To have an edge over the competition? Ego? Yes and other more benign reasons I am sure, Not for me though. While I am as guilty as the next person of not eating the best foods all the time, due to many factors, I know that when it comes down to it, a slow braised osso bucco with lots of garlic and a big red barolo or a butter poached lobster tail with a good crusty baguette to soak up the butter are better for me and my loved ones than the hot dogs from Costco. Not that I mind a good hot dog of course...hahaha
Let me step down from my soap box now...there. Food and wine. There you have it. Nothing, absolutely nothing, brings as much as pleasure as sharing a meal with good friends and family, preparing a meal with a beautiful woman or deep conversations over a glass of wine. I am inspired by these interactions, they help feed my soul. And when I find that Miles and Maya moment over a glass of Pinot Noir or (fucking) Merlot you can be sure I won't be afraid.
Ciao
D
When I sit down to start typing I'm never quite sure where it will end up or even what I am trying to say, and that's ok because all I am doing is thinking out loud, sort of. In this case, what drove me to start hitting the keys, was the clip from the movie Sideways about the life of wine. A wonderful movie that is easily one of the best movies about something I love, wine.
Miles and Maya are sitting comfortably numb getting to know each other. Call is sexual tension if you will but I think it is on a much deeper level, exposing your soul to a virtual stranger because you sense that maybe this one is different and you are tired of being afraid. Maya launches into a poetic and beautiful soliloquy about the relationship between wine, seasons, people and the passage of time. I can never do it justice so please look it up on YouTube. When you're done, come back and continue reading...
Now that you're back...think of Miles. Look at his face when she is talking. That sound you heard was him falling for her. The "I get you and you get me" feeling is so elusive in life that when confronted with it we can be dumbfounded. His face is all subtlety but so impassioned. He has fallen in love. And.........then he let fear come back in. That sound was the floor dropping out from this potential relationship. A beautiful scene. Big dummy Miles!!!!
I might have mentioned previously that a good friend of mine once told me that she was not going to let fear rule her life. Being relatively stupid and naive I wasn't sure what she meant. Fear of getting hitting by a car? Fear of heights? Fear of rectangles? No stupid, the fear of letting yourself open up. Be willing to be vulnerable, to get hurt, to suffer, because then you can truly experience the true possibilities of life. To find happiness. To find love. I immediately took on that idea as one of my mantras. Sure things can be scary, but I'm not going to let that change my outlook. Bring it on sister.
Drifting off to the left now, let us examine the food aspect of this post. Namely my ideas on what good food is about. This is where I may climb up on a soap box for a bit, please indulge me. If not...whatever.
Stop fucking around with food!!!! If you've read my description of those tomatoes I ate in Croatia you will have a sense of what I think good food is about....good ingredients. Treat them with respect and try to do little to them so as not to screw up what a dedicated farmer, grower, fisherman or what have you has done to bring you that morsel of food. Talk to a farmer and see the passion in their eyes as they describe their crop or the how they treat their cows and pigs. Why in the world would you then turn to "show business" to cook that food? Case in point - I watched a chef take cherry tomatoes, cover them in liquid nitrogen to freeze them. Once frozen he roughly broke them up to produce a shattered effect. That's it. This was the height of gastronomy for this clown. I seriously wanted to put his head in the bowl and pour liquid nitrogen on it....stupid melon head. I sat in on a demonstration at a food show a few years ago and this chef was demonstrating some of the beautiful things you can do with chemicals. He took 1 cup of peanut butter and blitzed it with 1 cup of lecithin to produce peanut butter powder that you can use as a sort of seasoning. Now I can appreciate the avenues that this opens up for me as a chef but can it be good to be ingesting that kind of chemical on a regular basis. Oh...and if you have to be careful of breathing something in lest it fuse your lungs together why the fuck would you use "meat glue" AKA transglutaminase.
I can appreciate the beauty of what some of these molecular chefs are creating and I don't think it deters from their skills as chefs, but I can't help thinking this is the latest fad in cooking. It already is waning of course so I think I am right but the larger issue, for me at least, is why are we going down that path in the first place. For show? To have an edge over the competition? Ego? Yes and other more benign reasons I am sure, Not for me though. While I am as guilty as the next person of not eating the best foods all the time, due to many factors, I know that when it comes down to it, a slow braised osso bucco with lots of garlic and a big red barolo or a butter poached lobster tail with a good crusty baguette to soak up the butter are better for me and my loved ones than the hot dogs from Costco. Not that I mind a good hot dog of course...hahaha
Let me step down from my soap box now...there. Food and wine. There you have it. Nothing, absolutely nothing, brings as much as pleasure as sharing a meal with good friends and family, preparing a meal with a beautiful woman or deep conversations over a glass of wine. I am inspired by these interactions, they help feed my soul. And when I find that Miles and Maya moment over a glass of Pinot Noir or (fucking) Merlot you can be sure I won't be afraid.
Ciao
D
Wednesday, 1 June 2016
You did what???
Think back. Way back to when you started your first job. A little nervous, maybe petrified and certainly green. And that greenness often translates to naivete and gullibility, willing to do anything asked of you, regardless of how stupid it may sound. That's where I come in, well, not just me of course, a whole crap load of people that simply cannot resist inflicting time honoured rites of passage for new and gullible employees.
It happened to me when I was starting out in the restaurant business and it happens to just about everyone. I don't want to know what new doctors are tricked into doing...shudder. My second shift as a dishwasher at the good old Golden Griddle pancake house was a night shift and it wasn't overly busy. I was asked to scrub potatoes; ok says I. Some burly looking cook told me to dump the potatoes in the sink, a little dish soap and scrub away. I know, soap. I got yelled at by another cook for being stupid, which I guess I was. Thankfully I learned quickly and I am almost certain I never fell victim to another prank....I think.
It will come as no surprise to anyone that knows me that I took this new found avenue of expression and made some good use of it. Myself and team members regularly joined in and started little escapades to see what we could get young newbies to do. New recruits were mildly tormented, visibly shaken and in some cases, chased by security. I must say that these days my role is that of facilitator as opposed to instigator or co-conspirator, if I come across such torment, I will play along. I never start it any more, I'm supposed to be the responsible adult guy now....hahaha
Without further delay, here is a small sampling of some of my favourite episodes, more to come later:
Back at the Griddle one Thursday night, bored and in need of entertainment I asked our newest recruit to chop some flour for zucchini batter. Oh, the more embellishment the better. Said recruit was instructed to dump 100 lbs of flour on to this mother of a wooden work table we had in the back prep area and to chop the flour fine. I went back to my station and waited. After a few minutes of rhythmic tapping of the knife, tap, tap, tap...I went back to enquire what he was doing. After a somewhat nervous reply I told him it would go quicker with two knives, like drum sticks. Back to the line, tap tap, tap tap, tap tap. Very good I thought. Until my boss walked in, shit I thought he was gone for the night. "What's that tapping noise?" he asks. Uhm, I don't know....hehehe He walks around the corner, the tapping stops...hehehe He came back around the corner, glared at me sardonically and headed back to his office, but before exiting through the swinging doors he turned and told me to make sure it was all cleaned up. Sure, right after he fine diced the flour.
The Golden Griddle I worked at was in the middle of an industrial park, surrounded by warehouses and factories. We had a large lot around us for parking, which we needed since we could do 500 people for breakfast on the weekend, which provided for a bit of fun on occasion. I must have had a string of boring nights because once again, I asked a dishwasher to go get us some toilet paper from the store room. Sure he says, where's that? Well, let me show you my friend. I led him to the back door and instructed him to go down the stairs, turn right around the building and the first door he came to would be the store room. "Isn't that kind of silly to have a store room outside?" Yep, but it leads to a basement area so there you have it. Oh, and bang on the door loudly, Dave is kind of deaf down there. Grab 6 rolls of toilet paper. This is the part I wish I could have actually seen....he rounded the corner, found the door exactly as I had described, and ignoring the fact that the basement door was up a set of stairs he pounded loudly on the door. Unfortunately for him, Dave didn't answer, the boss did...hehehehe. I really should have checked to see if the boss was still in the building. I would have paid money to see the look on their faces....as it was described to me, Pete throws open the door nearly flinging the young boy across the ground. "What the hell are you doing?" he yells...the response, "Are you Dave, I need toilet paper" Real money I would have paid, not just Canadian Tire money. Why I wasn't fired for my transgressions, of which there were many, I can only attribute to my bosses coke addled mind. He was a piece of work to be sure. Hell I could write an entire chapter on him and his girl friend...shudder
It can be said that my early episodes at the Golden Griddle can be forgiven as I was both young and stupid. Not to mention that I had no interest in this field at all. It was a job for me plain and simple. My later entrance into real cooking and culinary wonders came later. At this point I was more interested in subtlety than pageantry. Case in point: I was the sous chef at the Prince George Hotel here in Haligonian land. Working the line one night I was, as they say, on fire. I had sent off all the other cooks to help in banquets expecting my night to be slow. Not so much. It was a busy night, nothing I couldn't handle but simply a busy night. Now, I say, you should be judged by what you can do when you are in the middle of a rush. Can you practical joke when busy? Yep. Room service waiter came in doing nothing, I'm obviously busy, so this is when I ask him for the hammer by the piano. "What?" Pass me the hammer by the piano please. "What? Where?" Of course I am saying this quickly and slurring my words while gesticulating wildly. I point to no particular place, and repeat, the hammer by the piano, there..over there, the hammer by the piano. Searching frantically he is visibly confused....and I start to giggle....hehehe "Chef, I don't see.....the.....hammer....by the .....piano" Hehehehe He didn't throw anything at me but I think he wanted to.
An hour later my intrepid cooks come back to the main kitchen and one of them sees me being busy and asks if he can get anything for me. Yep, grab me a strawberry sundae quick. Rushing off with an appropriate yes chef I return to my work. In record time he returns and hands me the creation. I grab a spoon and start eating it, thanks man. Close your mouth buddy, flies and all.
I would bet money that more of these stories will come out. In fact, I was shocked with myself that they haven't come out sooner. I was out with a dear friend last night and one of these stories came up and I couldn't believe I hadn't shared them earlier.
So, in the end, find humour in everything I say. As long as it makes you laugh what else matters.
Life is grand my friends
Ciao
D
It happened to me when I was starting out in the restaurant business and it happens to just about everyone. I don't want to know what new doctors are tricked into doing...shudder. My second shift as a dishwasher at the good old Golden Griddle pancake house was a night shift and it wasn't overly busy. I was asked to scrub potatoes; ok says I. Some burly looking cook told me to dump the potatoes in the sink, a little dish soap and scrub away. I know, soap. I got yelled at by another cook for being stupid, which I guess I was. Thankfully I learned quickly and I am almost certain I never fell victim to another prank....I think.
It will come as no surprise to anyone that knows me that I took this new found avenue of expression and made some good use of it. Myself and team members regularly joined in and started little escapades to see what we could get young newbies to do. New recruits were mildly tormented, visibly shaken and in some cases, chased by security. I must say that these days my role is that of facilitator as opposed to instigator or co-conspirator, if I come across such torment, I will play along. I never start it any more, I'm supposed to be the responsible adult guy now....hahaha
Without further delay, here is a small sampling of some of my favourite episodes, more to come later:
Back at the Griddle one Thursday night, bored and in need of entertainment I asked our newest recruit to chop some flour for zucchini batter. Oh, the more embellishment the better. Said recruit was instructed to dump 100 lbs of flour on to this mother of a wooden work table we had in the back prep area and to chop the flour fine. I went back to my station and waited. After a few minutes of rhythmic tapping of the knife, tap, tap, tap...I went back to enquire what he was doing. After a somewhat nervous reply I told him it would go quicker with two knives, like drum sticks. Back to the line, tap tap, tap tap, tap tap. Very good I thought. Until my boss walked in, shit I thought he was gone for the night. "What's that tapping noise?" he asks. Uhm, I don't know....hehehe He walks around the corner, the tapping stops...hehehe He came back around the corner, glared at me sardonically and headed back to his office, but before exiting through the swinging doors he turned and told me to make sure it was all cleaned up. Sure, right after he fine diced the flour.
The Golden Griddle I worked at was in the middle of an industrial park, surrounded by warehouses and factories. We had a large lot around us for parking, which we needed since we could do 500 people for breakfast on the weekend, which provided for a bit of fun on occasion. I must have had a string of boring nights because once again, I asked a dishwasher to go get us some toilet paper from the store room. Sure he says, where's that? Well, let me show you my friend. I led him to the back door and instructed him to go down the stairs, turn right around the building and the first door he came to would be the store room. "Isn't that kind of silly to have a store room outside?" Yep, but it leads to a basement area so there you have it. Oh, and bang on the door loudly, Dave is kind of deaf down there. Grab 6 rolls of toilet paper. This is the part I wish I could have actually seen....he rounded the corner, found the door exactly as I had described, and ignoring the fact that the basement door was up a set of stairs he pounded loudly on the door. Unfortunately for him, Dave didn't answer, the boss did...hehehehe. I really should have checked to see if the boss was still in the building. I would have paid money to see the look on their faces....as it was described to me, Pete throws open the door nearly flinging the young boy across the ground. "What the hell are you doing?" he yells...the response, "Are you Dave, I need toilet paper" Real money I would have paid, not just Canadian Tire money. Why I wasn't fired for my transgressions, of which there were many, I can only attribute to my bosses coke addled mind. He was a piece of work to be sure. Hell I could write an entire chapter on him and his girl friend...shudder
It can be said that my early episodes at the Golden Griddle can be forgiven as I was both young and stupid. Not to mention that I had no interest in this field at all. It was a job for me plain and simple. My later entrance into real cooking and culinary wonders came later. At this point I was more interested in subtlety than pageantry. Case in point: I was the sous chef at the Prince George Hotel here in Haligonian land. Working the line one night I was, as they say, on fire. I had sent off all the other cooks to help in banquets expecting my night to be slow. Not so much. It was a busy night, nothing I couldn't handle but simply a busy night. Now, I say, you should be judged by what you can do when you are in the middle of a rush. Can you practical joke when busy? Yep. Room service waiter came in doing nothing, I'm obviously busy, so this is when I ask him for the hammer by the piano. "What?" Pass me the hammer by the piano please. "What? Where?" Of course I am saying this quickly and slurring my words while gesticulating wildly. I point to no particular place, and repeat, the hammer by the piano, there..over there, the hammer by the piano. Searching frantically he is visibly confused....and I start to giggle....hehehe "Chef, I don't see.....the.....hammer....by the .....piano" Hehehehe He didn't throw anything at me but I think he wanted to.
An hour later my intrepid cooks come back to the main kitchen and one of them sees me being busy and asks if he can get anything for me. Yep, grab me a strawberry sundae quick. Rushing off with an appropriate yes chef I return to my work. In record time he returns and hands me the creation. I grab a spoon and start eating it, thanks man. Close your mouth buddy, flies and all.
I would bet money that more of these stories will come out. In fact, I was shocked with myself that they haven't come out sooner. I was out with a dear friend last night and one of these stories came up and I couldn't believe I hadn't shared them earlier.
So, in the end, find humour in everything I say. As long as it makes you laugh what else matters.
Life is grand my friends
Ciao
D
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