Goldilocks Syndrome

John Cleese told me to steal from other people so that's what I'm doing. Are you gonna argue with Mr Cleese? I didn't think so. I know I wouldn't.

What am I stealing? Words and ideas. Pearls of wisdom. Sometimes nonsense. Today I am lifting from my guru Aaron Sorkin to be exact. What a surprise eh?

To paraphrase:

"You know what a Goldilocks planet is? It's a planet with the potential to support life 

because of its proximity to a star.

Not too hot, not too cold.

Near liquid water, but not made of liquid water

Enough oxygen, but too much nitrogen

And of all the planets, 1300 were identified but only two were confirmed. 

And of those two, one is radioactive.

Which leaves only one planet in all of space that is perfect.

You're talking about what I think you are? I think so." 

I've spent a bit of time this past week or so talking to friends, using my down time of recovery to catch up and such with people. Drank a bunch of coffee...too much coffee. Since most of these friends are women that I have met in the dating process over the past few years, that have become friends, inevitably talk turns to the eternal search for the "one"

We speak about the experiences we have had, both good and bad. We speak about the what ifs. We speak about where we are. And we speak about whether or not there is a "one" out there. From my perspective, yes. There is someone out there for me that will one day leave me completely vulnerable and happy to be so. Not everyone thinks that way though, and I'm pretty sure my doughy naivete in this area is both funny and annoying to some of my friends. But because we are friends we go along with the whole thing because, in the end we truly want everyone to find whatever it is they are searching for.

This isn't going to spiral into dating advice, simply some observations on the world of dating in your 40's. In case you missed it, the place to meet people now is online since, and lets be honest here, I'm not going to a bar to pick anyone up and I'm a bit too shy to start up a conversation with someone at the local Sobeys. I can just imagine my ill timed comment whilst perusing the melon section of the produce area. Bam! I have enough trouble with my mouth and my warped sense of humour. I don't need to be banned from the grocery store to boot.

So, a few observations:

We all have baggage. How can you be our age and not have them? As long as it doesn't rule your every day life it should be cool. In fact, and here is the tapestry thing at play, I do want to know the story. How did you get here from there? Pretending something didn't happen or didn't have some effect on you is disingenuous I think.

I try not to have boxes to check off or fill. Those deal breakers in some ways have the potential to limit you and limit your possibilities. I'm not talking about height and hair colour here, which is silly in it's own way. If you're attracted to blonde I get that, but don't discount that red head...you have no idea what is possible in that direction until you walk in that direction. Granted, I do have a few litmus tests that I have developed. I'm sure most would agree with me that they aren't too far fetched.

• You can't support Drumph and his ilk
• A cruise to Europe is not really going to Europe
• Be nice

Easy right? 

We are all crazy to some extent. We all have our own proclivities that make us who we are, as it should be, lest we all be the same. Who wants to live in a world full of storm troopers after all? And holding out for "perfect" is a good way to ensure that you won't be celebrating Christmas with someone special. I like a little bit of crazy, the trick is to find how much crazy you're willing to welcome in. I am almost positive that I'm not always an easy person to be with, I have my ways and my views, but I hope I am accepted for what and who I am. For sure I am not changing because as I have stated before, we simply don't change who we truly are. So why bother trying to push on the ocean? And who am I to ask you to change so you can fit into my ideal of a partner? That's why I wouldn't even consider asking. Be yourself, because I certainly am going to be. Be messy, be quirky, be weird...be you.

In the end it still, for me, boils down to opening yourself up. Allowing the possibility of something special to walk in the door as you sit down for the umpteenth beverage. You'll get hurt, you'll have false starts and sometimes it will seem like it isn't even worth it, but like the great philosopher Dory so poetically said...just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

Let me leave you with one last little nugget of wisdom. Curly's Law can be found in the movie City Slickers as Mitch and Curly ride the open range, grand vistas all around as they sit atop their faithful steeds. 

"Do you know what the secret of life is?

This (holding up one finger)

Your finger?

One thing. Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don't mean shit.

But, what is the "one thing?"

That's what you have to find out."

Is it as simple as that? Maybe. Maybe not. But it certainly seems like a good place to start.

Ciao

D

To analyze the atmosphere and find planets that match the different requirements.
1,300 planets were identified, but only two confirmed.
And of those two, one turned out to be something.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-newsroom&episode=s02e06

Near liquid water, but not made of liquid water.
Enough oxygen, but not too much nitrogen.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-newsroom&episode=s02e06

Not too hot, not too cold.
- Right.
Near liquid water, but not made of liquid water.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-newsroom&episode=s02e06

- Right.
Near liquid water, but not made of liquid water.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-newsroom&episode=s02e06

- Not too hot, not too cold.
- Right.
Near liquid water, but not made of liquid water.
Enough oxygen, but not too much nitrogen.
And we use something, um - Transit spectroscopy.
- I think that's what it's called.
To analyze the atmosphere and find planets that match the different requirements.
1,300 planets were identified, but only two confirmed.
And of those two, one turned out to be something.
- Radioactive.
- Yeah.
So right now that leaves one planet in all of space that's perfect.
You're talking about what I think you're talking about, right? - I probably am.
- All right.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-newsroom&episode=s02e06

- Not too hot, not too cold.
- Right.
Near liquid water, but not made of liquid water.
Enough oxygen, but not too much nitrogen.
And we use something, um - Transit spectroscopy.
- I think that's what it's called.
To analyze the atmosphere and find planets that match the different requirements.
1,300 planets were identified, but only two confirmed.
And of those two, one turned out to be something.
- Radioactive.
- Yeah.
So right now that leaves one planet in all of space that's perfect.
You're talking about what I think you're talking about, right? - I probably am.

Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-newsroom&episode=s02e06

Bleed Out Your Heart

Did you miss me? Well, I'm back, sort of, after my surgical induced hiatus from access to a computer and, well...sight. But here I am once again as I work my way back to normal and some version of sanity in this world.

It's been a bit of a strange few weeks for me, so much so that I feel a tad askew lately. Things change, things end and things happen. I feel like I have a ton of things to say and yet I don't know what I want to talk about. Weird huh? I almost feel like I am in a holding pattern, which makes sense since I am in some aspects. Nothing to worry about of course just pondering.

A song has been endlessly playing in the background this past week, an inescapable earworm that for some reason simply won't go away. Not that I hate the song, quite the contrary, I simply want to know why.

The song is Wolves by Big Wreck. The song, to me, feels like it should have been a huge hit in my youth. It's melodic, soaring and has a depth to it that makes me want to claim it as the music of my generation as opposed to something from this decade that doesn't know how to appreciate it for what it is...a great rock and roll song. Period.

Of course, the music is great but as you can probably guess the lyrics behind it are what keeps playing through my mind with Ian Thornley's soaring voice providing the colour. 

"Oh mark my words

In between the lines

And every little piece

Of the story's entwined"

Invoking the theme of my life lately, the imagery and symbolism of life as a tapestry, my love of stories and authentic experiences that, hopefully, teach me something every day and in the end simply choosing to live life as if I was alive. Lately, I feel like I am nibbling at the edges of something deeper, something more real in my writing and in my life. The nagging feeling that I have something to say but am not saying it. Wandering around the grounds outside instead of joining the party inside the palatial palace.

Ernest Hemingway said that “there is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” And that may very well be the case, but what of this...

"Oh, they said bleed out your heart

If it's still beating for someone else

Trap all those chains

That keep you tethered, that keep you safe"

Taking those chances, allowing yourself to feel pain, to feel fear, to feel. It's not easy of course. Fucking ponies, people and our own heads get in the way too often, but I do think there is both value and virtue in trying regardless. The journey, and not the destination, are what we should be focused on. The experiences we have, the stories we collect and the people we meet are what our tapestries are weaved from.

"And all of my favourite stories are about you"

It's funny how simply writing about this has helped to clear my head a bit. The act of "bleeding on the page" has helped to clarify my thoughts and feelings. Cathartic some may say. I know for me, over the past two years or so, this blog has been a bit of a lifeline in times of doubt, in times of confusion and in times of revelation. I recommend it highly my friends...do it for yourself, I promise that it will help. Write for yourself.

When writing I often do Google searches for words that I have running through my head, lyric meanings and so on to help with clarity and direction. One of those searches provided this quote that I want to think on for a bit.

"no one can change the sound of an echo"

I like this. But why?

Photo courtesy of my incomparable friend Margo 

When the Wolf Comes Home

Every once in awhile there are moments in time that you know are significant in some way, a whisper of an idea, seeing or hearing something profound. Or a feeling that maybe you're supposed to remind yourself of something very special...that you are missing something you don't remember.

One such occasion happened to me just about 5 years ago now. A night that was supposed to be about celebration that had turned to a realization, to resignation...and has brought me to where I am right now. I'll say this...life is never uninteresting.

On a night that my ex and I were celebrating our 19th wedding anniversary with a night away, a movie and a dinner out we ended up on opposite sides of the table staring at each other over souvlaki as if we were complete strangers. And I guess, in essence, we were. Later on that brisk evening, walking out of the theatre after seeing the movie Cloud Atlas, I found myself feeling like I had seen or heard something profound. Maybe it was a line in the movie, maybe it was the movie itself, I wasn't sure. And in that moment, as we walked back to the hotel, I was trying to articulate my thoughts when I was jolted back to reality..."I didn't like the movie." What? What did you say? How could I feel a seismic shift in thinking and she nothing at all?

Now, I'm not saying that her dismissal of my thoughts on the movie were the reason for us separating, I felt it was inevitable before that fateful night, but it is true that we separated two weeks later. A moment, frozen in time, when I realized that I could not, would not, live like that any more. I'm not casting blame on her here either, this was a failure on both our parts to be what we each needed to be for the other. We grew apart, we didn't talk to each other, only at each other and we stopped dating each other...our mojo gone. Lost in the years of doing what we were doing. No relationship can last in that sort of vacuum...the wolf had come home.

"There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet

No matter where you live

There'll always be a few things, maybe several things

That you're going to find really difficult to forgive

There's going to come a day when you feel better

You'll rise up free and easy on that day

And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air

Just when that day is coming, who can say, who can say?

Our mother has been absent

Ever since we founded Rome

But there's going to be a party

When the wolf comes home"

We all carry baggage around with us. The things we have done, things done to us, feelings hurt and spirits lifted, we are, as I have said a few times now, the culmination of everything that has happened to us up until this very moment. To my way of thinking, that wolf is us not making peace with our past and how that failure has helped to shape us. Which reminds me of the adage "you can't know where you're going without knowing where you've been."

These lyrics come from the song Up The Wolves by The Mountain Goats, which I heard on the show The Walking Dead...how's that for profound imagery, we the walking dead waiting for our wolves to come home, with either the sweet pain of death releasing us or finally realizing that all we have is what we have and our happiness comes from within first. 

I wonder what my next profound moment will be. Where will I be? Who will I be with? What is going on in the world? Not knowing is painful but exciting all the same.

And five years on, what was it that turned my world ever so slightly? This quote is as good as I can offer....

"Belief, like fear or love, is a force to be understood as we understand the Theory of Relativity and Principles of Uncertainty: phenomenon that determine the course of our lives. Yesterday, my life was headed in one direction. Today, it is headed in another. Yesterday I believed that I would never have done what I did today. These forces that often remake time and space, that can shape and alter who we imagine ourselves to be, begin long before we are born and continue after we perish. Our lives and our choices, like quantum trajectories, are understood moment to moment. At each point of intersection, each encounter suggests a new potential direction."

...and maybe that is good enough for today.

Ciao
D

Expectations

In the annals of music there are some pretty horrible songs that give credence to the idea that being strung out on coke or comfortably numb on Willie Nelson lead people to believe that their musical journey is pure magic. All the proof you need is here High AF Of course that is an extreme example but I believe you get my drift. And to be fair, one persons version of nails across a chalkboard is another's theme song to their life...that's the way it is right. Which leads me to The Stanfields, a band from backwoods Nova Scotia that broke out with a small local hit called The Dirtiest Drunk in History of Liquor. Yep...you read that right. I hated that song. A waste of digitized space pure and simple. I wouldn't pay money for their music, much less see them live. Didn't give them any thought what so ever.

Until I was forced to see them live. They were opening for The Trews, another backwoods Nova Scotia band that I did like. And you know what? They were great! First, they didn't play that song but more importantly they played an acoustic show which opened up the music to me in a way I didn't quite expect. And my was I pleasantly surprised. So much so that I mused about suggesting they permanently ditch the electric version of their band. Of course, as is often the case with music, an opening leads to new discoveries and an appreciation for things I knew little of. They are a pretty good band of songwriters with a hard and true view of life that they cast a light on in their own way. I so love that about music.

Anyhoooooo, their song Vermillion River is what brings me here today.

"What would they say if I went back empty handed?

They won’t know who I am for all I know

But I know they'd compare me to my brothers

And laugh behind my back if I went home"

This line caught my attention. The idea of living up to expectations and the effects that has on us and others around us specifically. I think of my daughters and what it means to live in a world that bombards them with images of the perfect body, the perfect clothes and the perfect hair. I think of my son and the just as ridiculous notion that a man can't be vulnerable and must join in behaviour they know to be simply wrong so as to fit in. I think of people around me striving for someones notion of what it means to be happy...the white picket fence, 2.2 kids, two cars in the garage and a labradoodle at your feet. No wonder advertising is such a huge business, because someone has got exactly what you need to help you on the path to happiness. As if that was actually possible through things; I've got a Swatch, I'm happy as fuck now...woooohoooooo

From an early age we are all subjected to expectations, not all of them are material and some are quite benign but they are there. As parents we want our kids to grow up healthy and successful to maybe have an easier way than we may have had. That's cool, I can dig that. What I can't dig though is living vicariously through your kids..."little Jake there is going to make the NHL...hey ref!!! What the hell are you doing....did you swallow your whistle?" Sound familiar? When my kids were in basketball I knew it was a thing to do for them, it wasn't the path to their future success. I didn't bank on their NBA signing bonus. I hoped that they would learn to play a team sport, have some fun and exercise and simply enjoy the game. While I could not care less for basketball, two of my kids loved it, so I sat in the stands like a good dad and politely cheered them on while my butt went numb on the bleachers. All around me there were pockets of the vocal parents that had other ideas in their heads. Talk about pressure from expectations and the downright rude behaviour that followed with these wannabe superstar parents. You should have seen the dirty look I got at the end of one championship game that our team lost. I went over to the other teams coach, shook his hand and congratulated him on his teams play and his coaching...they were better, plain and simple, and a lot of it had to do with his approach. When I turned to go back to my "side" I was greeted with side way sneers and whispered condemnations...you already know what I was thinking GFY.

That is not to say, by any stretch, that I am the perfect dad...far from it. For some reason I was too hard on my son when he was younger. And I have been guilty of being shocked and a little dismayed when one of my kids got less than their normal results on a test. I suppose when you get used to the high marks that they have been bringing, a B+ seems like a problem might have been brewing. Thankfully those days are long gone for me and I have chilled quite a bit, but I do think of them as my lapses and failures as a positive role model. I suppose those would be my own Leave it to Beaver expectations on myself. Funny.

Expectations can become like prisons if we let them dictate to us, surround us like walls and make us feel like failures if we haven't busted through them, exceeded those expectations. And maybe none more so than the ones we almost willingly place on ourselves. You know what I'm talking about. I have to have this career and earn this much money. I have to go to Cuba every year. I need this car and that watch. If not, I must be a failure...my friend or my sister has those things, I suck. And those are just the materialistic ones. The ones surrounding success of the emotional and intellectual variety are really draining if you allow them to get the better of you....making for hard miles ahead. I say no, what do you say?

Ciao
D

Land of Confusion

A whole year. A year of his sucking the oxygen out of the world while we listened to his ridiculous press conferences and easy as pie Fox interviews. His crazy tweets picking fights with just about everyone, supporting "nice people" Nazi's and still, for some reason, fixated on Hillary Clinton. Do you think he has a thing for her?

Yes my friends a year ago we went to sleep with fear in our hearts and awoke to America asking the world to hold its beer while they did the most ridiculous and scary thing ever...elected Donald Drumph as president. God knows I could rant on for a few minutes easily on the abject failure that this moron is, but I don't think I will. Instead, let us discuss those things that we do not know.

Huh? I know right, sounds crazy but by now you have come to expect that from me. I'm OK with it so you should be too. Splattered across the internet and in newspapers alike is the latest scandal to take our attention away from whatever the last scandal was, the Paradise Papers as they have come to be known, is the latest whistle blowing exercise in trying to pull back the sheets on the murky world of the uber rich and supremely powerful. And like the indictments of Drumphers the week before it got me to thinking about what we don't know.

When 9/11 happened and the world got a little more fucked up, the scary part was not knowing what we didn't know. Who was whispering what into the hairy ear of George W Bush? What was really going on with the Saudi's and who the fuck was Osama Bin Laden? I feel that way now. If rich people have this level of exposure with these leaked documents can you imagine what else is out there? The level of douche baggery it must take for the wealthy to go to the extremes they go to in order to hide their riches from the tax man is almost unbelievable. For sure it's rotten to the core and needs some actual attention paid to it, not the candy ass crock of nothingness that politicians will spew forth in an effort to look like they're doing something but actually are doing less than nothing.

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded

Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed

Everybody knows the war is over

Everybody knows the good guys lost

Everybody knows the fight was fixed

The poor stay poor, the rich get rich

That's how it goes

Everybody knows

Monsieur Cohen had it right on, as he often did, the rich get rich and the poor can suck it. The notion of the American Dream has, for the most part been destroyed...by the very people that realized their own version of that dream. Armies of lobbyists, politicians bought and paid for by secret and not so secret donors all in an effort to advance someones agenda...usually not yours or mine. The system is rigged against us not because people are against us per se, but because those doing the rigging want more. And in the absurd reality that these people live in, they can justify their actions by saying things like it will help the middle class or trickle down economics will solve the problem or my favourite one, let the market take care of things. Except when we need handouts, bailouts and laws designed to protect us. I feel a throat punch coming on!

Personally I think the things we don't know would scare the crap out of us first, but then would probably result in some form of revolution. The population out there would finally be forced to stand up and be heard. That, my friends, is what the scares the powers that be in China the most, that their billion or so people begin to realize that they really don't have freedom and thusly deciding that today might be a good day for a walk down to Tienanmen square. The June Fourth incident, as some call it, was at its height a million people trying to be heard. In a country of 1.4 billion people that's a drop in the bucket. What they don't know helps to keep them in line. And the powerful in power.

What I find most objectionable is the fact that these douche canoes are actually taking away from the people that need the most help. Our tax system is supposed to be about providing for the general community as a whole. Roads to drive on, planes to bomb the shit out of people and a health care system that doesn't bankrupt you for having a kidney stone. These people have some guile to attend fundraisers and contribute to the arts while being 'philanthropic', all the while literally hiding money from the system that would actually eliminate the need for your local hospital to fund raise for a new MRI machine. At best its objectionable, at worst illegal and immoral. Maybe I should say it should be illegal...the loophole brigade works very hard to make sure it's "legal". But it is immoral without a doubt. 

Will it change? Probably not sad to say. It's been going on too long and just enough of the table scraps are being dropped for us to gnaw on to keep us quiet. All they have to do is hunker down and withstand any assault, we have to tear it down brick by fucking brick. They're fight is a lot easier. Ours is almost impossible.

Ciao

D

The Dark Arts

Two days ago when I first started to write about what was on my mind I was going to title it "Dear Fuckheads 2.0" because I was angry. Pissed and frustrated with extreme stupidity and downright meanness. But, I had time to calm down and allow the garbage to fade away from immediacy, I didn't allow it to couple together with other similar things, such as Drumph and his daily displays of buffoonery and bad drivers that seem to get in front of me all too often. In other words I let time give me another view and approach.

I think by now we all have had to deal with people in our lives that seem to have but one purpose, pissing us off, screwing with our lives or simply standing on our necks trying to choke us out while attempting to elevate themselves somehow. I will tell you that I simply do not understand these people anymore than I can understand why anyone would support Drumph. I truly don't get it. What would cause someone to act in a such a way? Is it a character flaw of some sort? Were they treated this way and they figured that's the way to do it? Did they fall and hit their heads on something hard? I don't know and don't care, most of the time. But I will admit it got to me a little this week, reminding me of a quote from the movie Hannibal

  "People don't always tell you what they are thinking. 

They just see to it that you don't advance in life."

This got me to thinking about how the world seems to work on some levels. We see it everyday, people that walk this world seemingly in constant conflict...fists together in the universal sign for butting heads. As if it only makes sense for them when there is chaos of one sort or another. Dripping poison into other peoples lives without regard of consequences or retribution, karmic or otherwise. I have to tell you, the idea of schadenfreude was probably born in the embers of this fire. Recently, one of these people in my life had some comeuppance visited upon them in their own work world, and while I generally let things go and move on with my life, I did do a little mental happy dance at the thought of his self inflicted misery. Hubris...it's a thing.

Drumph will soon see what this all means. Slowly, too slowly, even some of his enablers are seeing that the orange turd is full of shit from any angle you look at him. He is in constant combat mode. The dark arts of division, diversion, deflection and distraction lead him to point at the Democrats and Hillary for all sorts of "high" crimes, throw his own people under every bus around, lie about everything - "believe me" and, as Hitler and his goosestepping Nazi fucks did, find scapegoats for all the ills, real or not.

This douche bag is on a completely different level when it comes to the dark arts, in the hopes of hiding his own short comings and abject failures, he uses division and distraction as very real ways to point everyone else in another direction, in the hope that people won't notice that he stands there with no clothes on. And while his particular brand of idiocy requires medication to get through I think the everyday common type of bullshit we all deal with from time to time is what we should be wary of. It is more directly poisonous to us and certainly more widespread then we give credit for.

So. What do we do? Throat punch the lot of them? As appealing as that is I think the authorities might have an issue with that particular approach. I wish I knew what to say here. I'm as guilty as anyone for reacting badly, if justifiably so, in these scenarios. I admit I get my back up when I have to deal with a known fuckhead, it may very well be a natural response. I just wish I was a little better at letting this particular shit slide down the drain.

Perhaps understanding where the other person is coming from and what they have dealt with can open our eyes to other ways of dealing with as issue. We really don't know what the other person is going through, and while it doesn't excuse them for their bad behaviour maybe it helps in finding a way forward.

At this rate I'm going to rename this blog Reflections in Real Time...hmmmm, sounds like a Hip line somehow.

Ciao
D

Photo courtesy of Marguerite

Music to My Ears

There is a certain almost indescribable and surprising beauty to the sound that a busy kitchen makes. At least to me. A cacophony of noises that range from pans skidding across cast iron burners, plates being stacked and arranged, steaks sizzling on the broiler, knives flashing across cutting boards and the distant hum of the dishwasher running through its never ending cycle. Punctuating this rhythm section are the constant barking of orders and responses, colourfully interjected with a patois that can make a sailor blush. Music emanating from a battered hotel room clock radio with a coat hanger as an antenna, genres ranging from ear aching rap and country to classic rock and a shocking amount of ABBA, provide the background soundtrack.

From my office I can sense, by the sounds coming from the kitchen, when something isn't the way it should be or if there is trouble brewing in the near future. The dishwasher has a squeak in it and I'm thinking ball bearings on the washer arm. Grinding noises from the fan in the walk in and I'm thinking the fan motor may be on its last legs. Uncharacteristically quiet from the team and I know something isn't quite right. This super natural power serves me well as I have learned to keep my finger on the pulse of my work place by mere noise. Things like the following happen on a regular basis....I walk out into the main kitchen area, just observing really as the team gets ready for service. "Brian? Yes Chef. Do you need me to slice some tomatoes for the line?" The look on his face was brilliant. "How would he even know that?" was the whispered commentary as I sliced up a few toms for the boys. Truth is I didn't know for certain but I know my kitchen and I know my team. I love doing that. I think it helps build an aura around me that helps in my management style. As if nothing can be pulled around me because chances are that I would know. And I would.

I think the best noise though is the sound of laughter. The jocularity and hilarity that accompanies people that work with sharp knives and raw meat while fermenting under the dull glow of too may shifts standing beneath fluorescent lights...it is something to behold. I have seen first hand how a joyless kitchen is something to avoid at all costs and I work to ensure that my team is here to work hard for sure, but also to have fun while they are doing it. Why live in fear of a crazy ass chef that might fly off the handle for a piece of misplaced parsley when you can open yourself up to some self deprecating humour and you know, laugh a little while you work. What a radical idea...have fun at work.

Being someone that has always bristled at authority I look for people to work with that share my sense of humour and adventure. When I dumped a pound of salt on my bosses burger before he grabbed it for the road I knew there was a good chance I was in for some sort of retribution....it took a while for my shorts to defrost that night. Just saying. Which leads to the practical jokes and impromptu funny things that help to bring that laughter. Be it my helium antics, sending naive newbies on a mission for the electric egg peeler or bacon stretcher or the classic drained egg in the face gag. There is no end to the ways that make you laugh in the bowels of most kitchens. I'm smiling foolishly right now at the mere memory of the chopping flour incident.

It's no wonder to say that the way I am now is in a large way due to the world I have worked in for the past 30 plus years. It has shaped and reshaped me into the somewhat sarcastic, often brilliant, shit disturber that I am. It's been quite the ride so far and the music continues to play.

Ciao
D