Friday, December 26, 2008

can't make this stuff up

“the bush administration took a lot of pride that homeownership had reached historic highs, but what we forgot in the process was that it has to be done in the context of people being able to afford their house. we now realize there was a high cost.”
~~former treasury secretary john w. snow being quoted in the ny times.


from 2003 - 2006, snow served as the 73rd secretary of the u.s. treasury. before that appointment he worked in the reagan white house, having earned a ph.d. in economics from the university of virginia. currently he's serving as chairman of cerberus capital management, which among other things, owns 80% of chrysler.

Monday, December 22, 2008

on a wire

saturday i went to see the documentary, "man on wire," about the frenchman who toddled between the twin towers in 1974. a supernaturally focused funambule, he has also crossed the sydney harbor bridge and the louisiana superdome. the world trade center caper took 6 years to execute. he spent 45 minutes in the air, back and forth about 8 times, and because all of it was so illegal, no press was summoned. there is no video, but there are photos of him 1/4 mile up in the air. there were moments when he simply laid down on the wire, surrounded by the morning.

when he at last felt finished, and fell into the impatient "octopus of arms" of pissed-off nyc cops, he was accosted by reporters and gawkers. what fascinated him then, and now in hindsight, is how the most asked question was "why did you do it?" he felt it a peculiarly american inquiry, and wasn't so banal as mallory to say "because it's there." all along, much of what thrilled him was the scheming. he watched old tommy gun/bank job movies for mind-set, lol, and spent hours criss-crossing a cable in his yard. to mimic the wind potential, his friends would yank with all their might to sway the wire he walked. he never once fell. yet he always knew that any step he took that august day could be the one to his death.

there are times in life when "why?" is a question with a simple answer. "because it's the right thing to do." however, when the query is posed in view of behavior with a negative or unpleasant impact our internal dialogue can get thorny and unpleasant. when a pattern emerges, that unresolved conflict grows like a painful cyst. my thick head can only go under so many times while i try to swim through the waves too strong. there is the fear of facing it, and deeper still, the fear of admission with the subsequent failure of self-management. which brings judgement. i am then terrified of the disappointment... the closing of the door.

and yet? i know quite well my behavior in all its feebleness is a response, not an instigation. and yet? a year later, i continue to display my insanity and weakness and keep walking into that same pointy stick over and over and over and never say "ouch" out loud. i drown the pain with an ocean and can't look for a raft. past training has taught me there was nobody around with a paddle. this is not solely talk of the owner, but my family too. there may have been some in my life to whom i could have reached out, but i was, am, always too afraid. the loathing is now so deep, i'd rather waterboard myself before somebody else gets to it -- just leave me in the drift and be done with it.

this morning, talk of emotional water wings in my near future. maybe i am not alone.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

this isn't really news...

except that it involves a mom in wasilla. not THAT mom, but the mom of the kid who knocked up the daughter of THAT mom, so there is a bit of rubbernecking and epicaricacy.

the mother of bristol palin's baby-daddy is facing 6 felony counts for selling oxycontin. she's bucking convention since wasilla is known for cooking meth, but won't she make a fine granny?

this is a sad and not funny story of flat broke, bored trashy people in a miserable morass of a crap-hole town using and selling drugs to briefly escape the dull pain of their shitty lives, and it would not be news that the mother of a high school dropout who's marrying some idiot girl he impregnated was arrested for using drugs except that at some point we were all instructed to respect these folks as Real Americans. actually, the republicans were sort of right, these people are the truth of america's small towns, and that is why as a whole we decided to elect the smart, educated, well-off urbanite aspirational black couple from Chicago instead of the angry vietnam veteran and the scary PTA pageant creationist with the fucked-up trashy family.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

'tis the season

gather round, boys and girls, for a troika of stories 'bout the holidays in the hood.

walking from the "t" last night, i heard them long before i could see them. f-bombs and the c-word ringing in the cold air. approaching the now-notorious bar where a girl-fight resulted in some cheek being bitten and spat to the ground, the guy was kicking the driver's side door. she was screaming. people were looking. bar patrons standing in the open door, watching. a friend came over, but quickly dodged away. don't know what the chick behind the wheel said, but her "boyfriend" then threatened to "punch her in the neck". new one, to me anyway. unless she had just had a tracheotomy or recent stitches to a knife wound, then i could see the threat.

kept walking and two short blocks away the street was jam-packed, cordoned off and lit up like a july noon. a movie crew at the police station. fake news vans all over, real and costumed cops drinking coffee. never mind the white trash domestic violence banging around the corner and still within earshot, k?

then around in the square. n-star or some such with a ladder in a hole in the pavement. hard-hats keeping warm with coffee too. detail officer in the street. also in the street, a barefoot woman slurring at the cop. she was laughing too, but he kept having to grab her so she wouldn't just collapse. legs of rubber and arms grabbing at the air, i have no idea what she was on about, but she thought it was hilarious. n-star guys just kept staring. this was about 2 blocks from the police station, and you know the cop had a radio and all those over-timers had cell phones. somebody, anybody, get that zima-crazed broad out of the street? it was below freezing -- where the hell were her shoes? "do you want me to call somebody?" i asked. nope. duty cop said he was all set. somehow, i got the feeling he didn't feel like doing drunk tank paperwork or interrupting the movie shoot. (those union guys really hate to be interrupted.)

was santa watching? cripes.

Monday, December 15, 2008

quality of life

it's measured in countless ways by everyone, and i in no way pretend that i can comprehend the life of a haitian who lives on a few cents a day and feeds her kids patties made of dirt, salt, a little cooking oil and barely potable water. ( we made mud-pies as kids too, but always knew it wasn't what was for dinner.)

i don't have to look at my ira statements, so don't. not being anywhere near retirement's edge, i don't need it for a long time. it was a pretty small amount that i know is significantly smaller anyway, lol.

last year, i spilled a significant bit of electronic purple ink bemoaning my work. many of us spend more time there than at home or with loved ones, and that's especially true for me. not a day goes by without me feeling a tinge of gratitude for how improved that situation is now.

my commute: many times, i spent more than 4 hours a day traveling to that hated place. now it's less than 20 minutes and just one train.

my income: above industry average now, allowing me to baby-step out of debt and actually have a little mad money now and again.

my employer: not trying to cheat everybody they meet or hire, and willing to give you (me) a very long rope. yes, it's one that can choke you just as fast, but if you're competent and motivated they stay out of your hair. contrast this with the constant microscopic dissection and projection of theft, laziness and incompetence i've experienced two times over now.

my co-workers: smart, fast, funny, ambitious. contrasted with so many recent colleagues whose value was simply a warm body in the building. the owners didn't want *smart*, or new thinking. do you know how many times my last boss told me, "we don't want to re-invent the wheel here"? do you know how many times my new boss has told me, "we need to be *different* from everybody else"? or better still, "what do you think"? the slothful here self-select pretty quickly.

product value: back in high-end dining, where the staff doesn't get intimidated because somebody is spending money, and the bosses aren't trying to pinch pennies in every corner. "exceed their expectations". yes, i know, the client is paying a fortune, but give them goodies not in their contract and they swoon. the chocolate bark given in bags as a good-bye favor recently made everybody insanely happy. it probably cost us $10 for 200 people, lol.

autonomy: one of my biggest frustrations with my 2 last jobs was the ball and chain the owners shackled on me. regardless of volume, unless you were there at least 10 hours a day, they felt swindled. managers falling all over each other in virtually empty dining rooms, yet nobody was allowed to duck in the office to do other work. schedule changes or days off required acts of god. often times, it was just more trouble than it seemed worth; the request was seen as such impudent audacity it brought unimaginable ire. here? unless i have an event or meetings, i can come and go basically as i please. 9-5, 12-8, 10-4, they don't care as long as your shit is done. wow. we get treated like adults rather than incompetent chattel. what a novel concept! honestly, our office is so isolated from everybody else, they barely know if we're on-premise or not.

paid time off: it accumulates per hours worked. so all these 50- and 60-hour weeks are being banked for vacation time. i fill out a form and get paid if i don't work. that simple. my last boss wanted SIX weeks' notice for vacation. for so long i knew i was quitting anyway, i just wanted the dough to live off when i left, so i had stopped caring about that lunacy.

i don't sit on a rainbow (in fact, my chair is more like a wonky grocery cart that i'm constantly coralling back into position) and ride unicorns around my job. there is much that makes me crazed and much room for improvement. BUT -- my bosses know that and want to get there, with our help. they trust me now as competent -- i sensed the switch after an initial observation period. so many have washed out (55 people since january. 55. not counting kitchen or service!!!!), they watch and see, and don't invest until they know you can cut it. that's fine by me. it's a transient business and this is one of the toughest in which i have ever found myself.

it's not killing me, so we know what that means.

:)

Thursday, December 11, 2008

the ridiculous can be sublime


no secret to my tiny audience and meat-friends, that i enjoy food. making it, sharing it, eating it, exploring it, discovering it. nurture v. nature, dunno, but growing up most of my family was the same. holiday tables groaned with food, and those meals lasted hours. much of the spirit was the always animated and convicted conversation, (sell it!) where table-pounding for emphasis wasn't unusual. (only at home, yo!) dinner was always together, and pre-net it wasn't unheard of to leap up and seize the "world almanac", that stone-age data go-to. it's why i hate the tv on during meals. blabbing heads on the screen? the exact opposite of meal-time: a few moments, separate from the world, to savor and share both the food and one another.

culinary school quickly led me to fine-dining employment. the talent and vision of many of the chefs for whom i worked still staggers.

some people go bowling. (so i've heard.) my friends and i go out. in a small town like this, with an incestuous industry like mine, it's nearly impossible to go unnoticed in even the most unlikely spots. but! that's part of the fun.

on a second visit in 2 weeks' time to a new place (yeah, it's that good, i CANNOT wait to go back AND i love the owners) it was the simplest detail that blew us away. the bartender brought out a basket of rustic killer bread from iggy's. beside it, a little plate with 2 types of salt, a tiny sprig of thyme and a ramekin of spread. "this is pig butter." our eyes went wide. barely tinged green in color and the texture, of, well, i guess, lard. some on my plate and bit of bread. i don't know that i've ever had something so small be so succulent. we tried it with the salts. we dipped it in the ephemeral carbonara sauce. heaven. we had to praise the owner in a "we're not worthy" moment. it was simply rendered pig fat and extra virgin olive oil. the reason i didn't get any in the first week? they hadn't cooked enough suckling pigs yet to get the "butter" ball rolling.

2 ingredients, not even a major component of a meal, and i've been talking about it for days. we went to visit another friend's place after, and i sipped my gigondas extra slowly to savor the mouthfeel of the pig butter and see how long it would linger. (long time, yeah, love you long time.) our porky euphoria made c. swear he'd make the pilgrimage the next night.

having been at this a long time, i know plenty of people would be grossed out thinking of pig fat on their bread. only because they're not making the leap of what the hell that crunchy bacon is all about on their blt.

lucky me, for me and mine, we just want more.

not to be daunted, i need to make it. it's beginning to look a lot like christmas! have you been very good, or very bad?


Monday, December 08, 2008

buy nothing day

i mentioned this last post, have been more or less living it out of necessity for awhile, but the actual composition got me noodling.

no longer am i robbing peter to pay paul each month. my salary now keeps apace and is allowing me to actually chip away at the glacier of debt incurred through various calamities over the last 2+ years. not long ago, i actually retired a dangerous one, which felt very good. that monthly sum just gets plowed elsewhere, so it's not like i went shoe-shopping to celebrate, lol.

after i wrote about bnd, i paid close attention to how many days i went without opening my wallet. except to tap my charlie card, it was 6 days. i brought my lunch to work and i never visit starbucks -- both out of huffy principle and having tea bags stashed at my workspace. i'm not a coffee drinker, and their tea just sucks. their small (or mini-grande or whatever, i have no idea what faux-label they use) is like 16 oz and it's absurdly hot. so hot as to scald their tea. and it's like $4. my nights at work were suffiicently late and bookended by an early rise, so i never went out for drinks.

first time i spent money was for groceries, and i was on a specific mission to haymarket so my weekly needs would be less than $20. $14 got me fruit and lots of greens. a fraction of what i would have spent at my ghetto shaws.

some of my co-workers make several trips a day to starbucks, dunkins, au bon pain, and the various shops around our building. part of it is likely just to get the hell out of the office, get some fresh air or have a smoke, but those nips must easily amount to $15 a day. not my place to judge, but i'm just too aware now to piddle away my paychecks like that.

i'm not pretending that the constant vigilance isn't sometimes annoying. but it was that laissez-faire attitude (plus employers who preferrred parsimony and outright cheating over a fair wage) that got me here.

but paying down that one makes me know it's not impossible.

last time the owner took me to the movies, we were behind a dad who was taking his daughter and some of her friends to a matinee. just the tickets for them, before soda, gummy bears and popcorn, added up to $54. that's a movie, drinks and dinner out afterwards for me! perspective really helps me too, lol.

so i'm treating myself on this frigid day to a movie and a drink. my conscientiousness extends to giving my money to people i know and respect, so i'll visit a place recently opened by exceedingly talented and genuinely nice people.

light at the end of the tunnel and an appreciation for what's possible.

there may be a christmas tree in my evening as well.

life is good. :)