Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Wabi Sabi: The Road Story

I love road stories. “Kneller's Happy Campers” always comes to mind first. Of course I still hold The Grapes of Wrath in high regard. On the Road seems to be the obvious one. If it is, then tell me do the prettiest girls in the world really come Des Moines? I loathed Cormac McCarthy's The Road despite being fascinated with the notion that the father thought his son was the messiah. Road stories are great. They just are.

This is my impression of the road story. These are the elements that I think are important: there is a change of scenery and a destination. The surprising part of this is the notion that the destination is somehow different that expected, usually fails to or far exceeds expectation. Thing about the final scene in Barton Fink when the Barton finally lands up on the Southern Californian beach and the whole experience has somehow left him empty and befuddled the audience. In many ways, in a road story, the road itself becomes alive and as a living entity, it has become a character than both drives the plot, enhances character development and creates all the tension we need as readers.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Wabi Sabi: the backstory part two: tending robots

I first met Dani and Ryan in the fall of 2014 right when I moved to Longmont, Colorado and started working a restaurant where they both worked. I wouldn't say that the three of us hit it off instantly, because it's difficult, if not impossible, to hit it off with me either instantly or gradually.

This particular restaurant has a very small staff. This particular town is small too. When I met these two, Dani lived a few blocks from me, but Ryan lived in a different town entirely. We worked so few hours at this place too. The restaurant was open only five days a week and we never seemed to work more than about twenty hours a week. As far as restaurant gigs went, this one was a tough one for bonding with coworkers. Anyone who has worked in a restaurant will tell you, bonding with coworkers is very, very important.

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Wabi Sabi: the backstory part one: the road trip

I blamed all of my worries and woes, all of my future disasters and successes on one moment. The moment was sometime in September 1998. If age isn't a beautiful thing, I don't know what is, after all, you can have perspective with time and time equals age. This one moment happened at SFO. I had told the girlfriend that I was going to return to Denver. I have no idea what compelled me to return to Denver. The morning it all went down, she borrowed a car, drove me to the airport, parked, went in and walked me to the gate. The moment I blamed for everything was the moment that she walked away from the gate, I watched her walk away and despite my inclination to drop my ticket and run after her, I did not. I returned to Denver and followed a different destiny.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

On Living Your Life and Fortune Cookies: A Lesson in Perseverance.

I have never liked eating in restaurants. I don't care for the way restaurants smell and I've never really cared for the way restaurant food tastes. I've never cared for servers, truth be told, they somewhat freak me out. The real dichotomy in this declaration is that I've spent most of my life working in restaurants, most of my working years cooking, cleaning or serving food. Even during the years I did other work, I still never cared to eat in restaurants.

At this point of my life, I realize that I may owe a great deal of my physical health and well being on the fact that I've eaten almost all of my meals at home from fresh and whole ingredients.

When I first got back to Denver, in the early 1990s, I was a poor college student. I worked. I went to class. I paid my way the best I could with the money I had. I lived a great life and I enjoyed being a poor college student. Denver in those days was a great place to live and work and study for the future.