beerfooddude

Been a busy couple of weeks, getting the new shop up to a better speed, consolidating things around the house and hitting the road (!) briefly to see Matt (my oldest) graduate from college (!!).

Well, we actually didn't SEE the graduation, thanks to some dickish antics by Avis Rent-A-Car. This delayed departure by just enough to cost us the chance to see him actually walk, but we all wound up for lunch together and he came back to New Orleans with us. Things turned out just as well, since we wouldn't have been able to pack all his shit in the rental. TBK and I wound up just taking my truck the three hours to Pensacola and it ran beautifully, despite missing a cylinder. Gas mileage wasn't much worse than it would normally be and we wound up saving the cost of the rental. Just goes to show (again) it's usually best to press ahead, despite any potential problems. I learned that from sailing. As long as the issues ain't life-threatening, Just Go. Usually, you wind up with a better story to tell.

Between Matt's graduation, Stu's new job and Kristen's continued development of her career in Seattle, I find myself these days in the post-developmental era of my kids' lives. They've each been out on their own for a series of years, so I'm used to that. But it's now more a case of their no longer being "new" adults and any advice I could give is pretty much redundant, unneeded, unwanted or otherwise useless. I'm not sorry about it and it's not that I feel useless or unwanted. It's just a different stage of my life and theirs. The grandchildren stage is still to come and I am sure I'll have a little to contribute to that. But, for the most part, I'll continue to limit any advice to times I'm actually asked. They can figure most things out better on their own.

Things continue to develop at the shop. We're still getting used to a different dynamic between us and the owner, who so far has been as true as possible to everything he has promised. Any irritants are minor and of a passing nature. There is one staffer we're going to have to release because she has proven simply unreliable because of too much self-imposed drama. Aside from her, the staff has proven enthusiastic, way competent and very reliable. Brian has been doing a great job as kitchen manager and we're very lucky to have him in charge when we're not there. We're still taking our lumps on Yelp! and some other spots for iffy service, but those issues appear to be ironing themselves out and are out of our control anyway. The one comment about marginal food was posted on the final Sunday of JazzFest, when we had two kitchen staffers out because of illness and the place was packed and Kim and I were on the road. Sorry, but it happens.

Our daytime, weekday dishwasher and sometime prep help is an older black man named Raymond, and he's a treasure. It's kinda like having your own, personal Delta blues musician following you around. He's toothless Vietnam vet, his girlfriend is a junkie and each day he arrives at work with some new tale of woe. But he presses ahead and sings along with the radio in the kitchen (if he knows the words or not) and is, really, a kind of inspiration for me. Sometimes I think I have shit to deal with? He has SHIT to deal with and he's reliable and as enthusiastic as can be reasonably expected. I figure if I can keep doing that, things'll work out. Being There is what it's all about, ain't it? 

We're still in negotiations to rework the mortgage. It's time-consuming, but I think we can work it out. Having a stable income is a big help. We've recently had to replace the plumbing on the master bath shower, but I'm feeling again more like anything we spend is an investment instead of a bet.

We're at the point once again where most days are good, and that's a huge change from where we were even four months ago. TBK is maintaining her health and I am, wonder of wonders, back to the same weight I was 30 years ago. Not that it's been by design or through careful dieting, since most days I eat like shit if I eat at all. But I'm a big believer that a calm soul is the best health insurance of all. We're not where we want to be, but I don't know a lot of people who really are.

I'm fortunate in that I've never had trouble sleeping. But these days, the worry doesn't return when I wake up. The journey is fun again. I don't have to search for bits of joy. They usually just appear.

Seems to me that's how things oughta be.

The song is about a lifelong oil worker in Louisiana who has made a great living in the oil patch but is having second thoughts about what it has brought to his state. "The fish don't bite like they used to" is another line. Papa dies from "the sickness that ain't got no cure."

I've been very pleased with the Gulf shrimp we've gotten into the shop lately. They're plump, tasty and wonderful. I look at them carefully every time I open up a new container. I trust our purveyors to not send us anything that doesn't look and smell right and they've been true. The state hasn't put out anything that raises an alarm, and consumer protection is what they're all about, right? Of course, the seafood industry says everything is Just. Fine. Really. Seriously.

Alabama has closed some of its waters to shrimping ("shrimp size" is the issue, they say -- pollution has nothing to do with it). Professional fishing guides on our coast say the oil is still visible in the marshes, even after two years. Seafood folks in Barataria Bay say they're catching loads of shrimp with no eyes or even eye sockets. Fish are being caught with unexplained black lesions. From all I can gather, things are seriously weird and wrong out there. At least in some places.

Seafood has always been an iffy industry. No one would go swimming in even the most chlorinated pool if there was visible shit and semen in it (think of the Baby Ruth in "Caddyshack"). And yet fish and other creatures screw and shit in the ocean and folks happily spend their expensive vacations diving in and out. I love it, when I get the chance anymore. It's one of those things you just ignore and chalk up to some kinda natural filtration. I love me some clean Gulf water. But, these days, I'm assuming that's an oxymoron anyplace within a half-day driving distance.

Part of my menu is made up of Gulf seafood. Do I trust it? So far, yes -- based on personal observation. Do I trust those who tell me it's safe? Not on your freaking life. There's too much money and spin involved. I have to assume I'm being lied to on several levels. Maybe that's not the case. But the world is what it is and I have to be honest with myself and, more importantly, my customers.

When I left the shop this evening, things were good. Hopefully, they will be tomorrow. But tomorrow ain't here yet.

Things are seriously weird and wrong out there in the Gulf of Mexico -- at least in parts of it. I wouldn't get so worked up if I thought there was some kind of honest monitoring going on. Maybe there is, but I can guarantee you it's being shouted down. I wouldn't mind if those responsible would admit they fucked up and they really don't know what's going on out there and they really, really want to fix it. But no -- instead we get Olympic sponsorships and PR shills telling us about BP's wind farms.

We are not okay. At all.

Jesus.

The past three weeks have been incredible on so many levels. It has been like playing a high-speed game of 3-D chess, when a move on the lower level can checkmate the king on the top or in the middle. There has just been so much to get used to and stay aware of. It's delightful and it's incredible, but it's also exhausting, humbling and, at times, frustrating. But it has also been a tremendous amount of fun. Ultimately, that's my measure of anything worth doing.

It will take awhile for a lot of the detail to come out in this blog. So much happens each day that it's difficult to encapsulate things. A few things of note, however....

Simply because of the location and the time of year, TBK and I move more food in the average day than we did in any week at our former location. This is not a because we're so great at what we do but because we're doing it where we are. The building is gorgeous, the location is perfect and the customers are, for the most part, wonderful. We are salaried, so it's not like we're taking in some huge bonanza because we're selling all this food. We'll get a percentage at the end of the month, so there's certainly incentive. But it's not like How It Was, when we were self-employed and it was literally our food for sale. We're still adjusting to that, but regularity of income has been a huge help.

This sharp increase in volume has led to a steep learning curve in inventory management. I remember the days of big food deliveries when we were at The Avenue Pub. But now it's bigger. And we manage a staff that will be twice the size of the one we had back then (though, thankfully, not operating in a 24-hour bar). We have servers and bussers and dishwashers and expediters (all but servers we've never had). It has been a bit mind-boggling at the end of each day.

Our staff is tremendous and we're still adding to it. A couple of new folks will be signing on this week. I think the owner is on board with the idea that you get what you pay for -- in terms of less hassle and smoother operation and much less turnover. It's a good things for the kitchen, coupled with continued new construction to make things flow easier. It's great.

That said, the place is being crucified (and rightly so) online for poor service. It doesn't matter we if put an orgasm on a plate, it's still gonna suck if it's delivered late or (worse) cold or (worst) both. We're in a city where folks are willing to wait a bit longer and have that extra drink if the food is worth it. But even that has its limits and I certainly understand. There's far too little experience and expertise up front. The kitchen can't control that, but it needs to be fixed like yesterday. I wish I could get my daughter in here for a week or so (she used to be a trainer at Chili's) just to get things organized. TBK and I know folks here in town who could get it done, but there would be some major personality clashes and possible bloodletting. Not good.

The other issue is tourists, particularly this time of year. I'd guess probably half our customers are tourists and they can be deadly with a cell phone. They want top-quality New Orleans food with Applebee's service and, frankly, the service isn't there yet. And, really, we're not a kitchen that adjusts well to specific and special requests (never have been). We're more than happy to accomodate someone with a food allergy or whatever. But (and I've mentioned this before) we largely do specialty food with complex flavors. We are also (literally) across the street from a Burger King. Even a nine-year-old girl can throw a rock from our courtyard to the BK serving line next door. I am floored folks order a chicken sandwich from us, but ask us to remove everything that makes it special. Walk across the fucking street, dumbass, or go back to Des Moines and get your damn chicken with too much mayo. This is NEW ORLEANS, fergodsakes. I am sorry if we scare you with different flavors. Well, I'm not really sorry. But y'know. Sheesh.

I will say this now and in print and for the record -- I cannot stand po-boy sandwiches. Call me a New Orleans heretic if you will, but it is simply the truth. We have agreed to keep shrimp and oyster po-boys on the menu and we make several of them each day to satisfy the tourists (and we make them well -- I used to work for Jeff at the old Parasol's right after the storm). But really, if you're local, there are much better-known and better-practiced po-boy places nearby. I view a po-boy as excellent Leidenheimer bread and other ingredients thrown together in the most tasteless manner possible. The problem is if you vary the way it's made (i.e.,to make it good), it ceases to be a "true" po-boy and morphs into a grinder/sub//severalothernames sandwich. I understand and appreciate the po-boy history and tradition and I see why it's considered classic New Orleans. But damn.

Looking over the previous two paragraphs, it appears I am angry or otherwise frustrated. I won't delete them because they're honest. But, really, my where y'at is a'ight these days -- big-time and better than in months. TBK and I have been able to spend some really nice times with some good friends lately and things at work are going very, very well and we have every reason to be optimistic on so many levels. We've lately been able to see past the end of the day or week and past our own noses for the first time in a long time and we've been enjoying the view.

We smell normalcy for the first time in over a year. It's not here yet, but it's nearby.

...and we have chocolate.

Once I wrap up the last day at Rouse's tomorrow, TBK and I will be off on our latest adventure in charge of the kitchen at The Blind Pelican on St. Charles Ave. Perfect location, great neighborhood and what looks like a wide-open opportunity.

That said, I'm too long in the tooth to be sucked into the idea it'll be carte blanche for whatever the hell we want to do. There's always some kinda caveat, in this case because I don't own the building and I will not be self-employed. I am, when it comes down to it, a salaried employee with a promised percentage of food sales. While the owner says we have complete control of kitchen, menu and kitchen staff, I know at some point there will be a "discussion" about what we do versus what he wants us to do. It is, ultimately, his place. When/if it all comes to that, Decisions Will Be Made. I know this going in, so really anything that happens from here on out will be based on this assumption. Few people can be a better soldier than me -- yet few can get more cantankerous when I can't get behind what's going on. So far, so good. I'll keep that attitude unless/until things change.

We've already agreed to keep a couple of po-boys on the menu. They're easy to do and in keeping with the name of the place, so okay. But, as those who know us are aware, we do not do your typical bar food. It will come down to simply showing what we do will outsell any assumed bar food menu. There are 500 places in the New Orleans area that sell po-boys. There are another 300 that sell pizza/oysters/shrimp/burgers/whatever. We've done well with our thing before, so I have to assume it will go well again. But not everyone will be happy. Trying to please everyone means pleasing no one, so off to work we go. Gimme a good staff and decent inventory/equipment/location and we can kick anyone's ass. Optimism abounds. Today.

My feelings about leaving Rouse's, as short as the time has been, are mixed. I have not liked hourly work and the subsequent restrictions on hours and quota-type production. I have not liked making, for all intents and purposes, leftovers (as higher-end as they might be). On the other hand, I have met some wonderful people and learned a hell of a lot I can use immediately. It has also been good to be humbled -- being shown so much I didn't know how to do and simply sucking it up and moving forward. I needed that and I think all of us do periodically. My instinct is to push, prod and lead, but being for two months in a position of deference has been mostly A Good Thang. Wisdom evolves, and I think I'm a wiser person than two months ago.

It is simply wonderful having TBK back after she was gone a month to see her mom and sister and to generally readjust. I have my wife and partner in crime back aboard and it's tremendous to plot our next anarchial event. I feel our purpose is to upset applecarts and sail with a short rudder -- going in a general direction but not being too true to a specific course. We always make our destination, though maybe a day or so early or late or maybe landing a few miles short or long. You'd think a guy who's fiddy-seven years old would know how to be a little more specific (I think "responsible" is the word) and, really, we'd ideally like more dependability in what we do. But we always wind up paying what we owe and we take care of what/who needs it along the way (including us). Those are the most important things. I mean, aside from the adventure.

...so we'll see how Pan's latest adventure turns out. We measure "success" differently than so many others and that makes the sail more difficult in some ways. But we're sailing again. It's what we need.

Looks like I'm gonna have some decisions to make in the next few weeks. Maybe they'll be easy ones. Maybe not. Lots of questions to be asked yet.

I'm getting the feeling, after talking to a few folks, we might get a couple of opportunities to re-crank J'anita's again -- in practice if not in name. I'm rested and ready (if not tanned) to do this again if the situation, location and logistics are right. But they will indeed have to be right. I know the locations are both good, so it will come down to how things would work and whose sweet ass is gonna be on the line for what. Part-time? Full-time? Breakfast? Lunch? Late-nights? I don't know yet. What I DO know is we can pull folks in the door and those I'm talking to know it as well. Interesting times indeed. Once again, thank you loyal customers.

In the meantime, it appears I'll be changing locations in my existing job. One of the several irking things about working in a corporate situation is everyone around you seems to find out about what's going on before you do. No one said anything to me about transferring to another location until a manager asked me the other day if I'd "heard anything." Well, no, I hadn't. Turns out, after I asked around, that virtually everyone knew about it but me. This is what happens when you show up, focus on your job and turn a deaf ear (like my hearing is any damn good anyway) to whatever discussion is going on around you. I don't mind being moved to a different store if that's what the company needs and, I guess, in some ways it's a compliment because they want to keep me and encourage me instead of just firing my coonass. Hell, I dunno. I show up a little early, stay until quitting time, obey the rules, I"m sober, I don't get hangovers, I don't gossip, I don't bitch and I don't use illegal substances. This combination is apparently its own unique skill set anymore, and it's kinda like having some kinda superpower. Amazing.

All of this, of course, will be discussed with TBK once she's back from California in a week. Things will be a lot clearer by then anyway. It's been good over the past couple of weeks to have my niece Jenny in the house and to see Matt over the past few days. I'm one of those folks who is entirely comfortable on his own, but it has also been good to come home and know there has been some activity and some goings-on when I'm not there.

Now that I have a regular weekly paycheck that's of a predictable amount, I'm looking back in amazement at how we were able to keep afloat over the previous year at roughly half what I'm currently bringing in (even though what I earn now is right at the food-stamp level for a married couple). Being self-employed in the food industry, we were able to hide a lot of our groceries and stuff in the company expenses. But even when you take that into consideration, it's a minor miracle we kept the utilities going and (mostly) paid the mortgage PLUS some back bills PLUS getting out of bankruptcy. God only knows what our taxes are gonna look like for last year -- I haven't even begun to work on that. Of course, that's partly because I'm still waiting on a 1099 I should have had at the end of January.

The biggest adjustment I'm having to make these days is how regulated I have to be anymore. I can't go to work until I'm scheduled.. I can't work more than 40 hours a week. I MUST take a 30-minute lunch break (but only during certain time periods). I must wear specific clothing. I must use a particular register when I buy things for myself at the end of the day. I must park in a certain place. There are reasons for each of these rules and I certainly understand them. But it seems a lot of the time I'm just getting on a good roll when some rule fucks it up. It's one of the reasons I left the corporate world years ago. Don't get me wrong -- I'm grateful for and happy with where I am. But the days I do best are when no one's around to "supervise." Today was the most productive day I've ever had in this particular setting -- and it was a day when there was no quota list and no one (as nice as they are) potentially on my ass. A very, very good day.

...so we'll see how all this works out in the next few weeks. Speaking honestly, it has been nice knowing I am done working when I reach a certain point in the day. But, that said, I feel like I haven't done much unless all the work is done.

Gonna be an interesting couple of weeks.

So much has happened over the past month it's been difficult to keep track, much less stop and take the time to write anything about it. Part of my writing outlet has been with a weekly column for The Uptown Messenger and it's been great fun, but I've had to pull in the claws on a lot of things so as not to offend would-be advertisers. I understand this, though it has been years since it's been an issue. I'm slowly re-learning my way around it. At any print or broadcast outlet, they tell you the editorial and advertising sides are two different and separate departments. But, particularly in a smaller and newer publication, that's never really true. One time when my former spouse and I were doing radio news together (before we became "an item"), she did a story about a robbery at a McDonald's and had a line about someone having a "bag of junk food" and the McDonald's folks went completely buttfuck crazy at our station's sales department. Sigh.

Speaking of pulling in the claws, I signed on about a month ago as a chef at the Rouse's on Tchoupitoulas. This is my first stab at corporate work since I left the AP (after 14 years) in 2004. One of the first questions my would-be supervisor asked me during the interview was how well I'd be able to adjust to the corporate thing after being outside it for about eight years. I was honest in responding it was a question I'd asked myself. But, after going three weeks without work and seeing our bank account become seriously overdrawn, I figured it was best to just suck it up and take what was offered and smile as much as possible in these days and times. Pride don't pay the rent, donchaknow.

It has been a great learning experience and the learning curve has been steep -- in part because it was the week before Mardi Gras when I signed on and in part because we were so woefully shorthanded (an issue that has since been resolved). I've been doing a series of things I've never done before, like dipping a toe into the world of Asian food and getting a whole new perspective on the vast differences between the restaurant world  and the grocery world. We're putting out some very good food but (there's always a but) my biggest adjustment has been learning the difference between food that goes for consumption Right Now and food that has to sit a few days. One of the corporate guys commented to me that we're "in the business of making leftovers" and, to a degree, he's right. Busy folks come in to buy our excellent stuff and take it home and it will sit in their fridge for another day or three and they'll finally eat it. In essence, we have to plan ahead for them in terms of making sure things are going to be fresh and still taste right. It's not easy.

One of the things I thought I was signing on for was to be a part of The Cellar operation in the back of the store. The plan is to take this demonstration kitchen and get licensed to sell wine by the glass and we could do a fresh and fast lunch and eventually supper for folks who come into the store -- a restaurant within a grocery store. One of the selling points was I might eventually get to do some of the J'anita's stuff that was so well reviewed over a series of years and would actually bring customers into the store. Enthusiasm was heightened when it turned out one of the long-time corporate guys is a HUGE J'anita's fan. But, right now, I'm really not sure if or when any of this might come to fruition. I've got my hands more than full with learning this new spring menu for the chef case and everything going on in the back is kinda someone else's deal for now. I can bring people into the store -- but it's apparently gonna be awhile before that happens. I have to get my mind back in that corporate place again and, frankly, it's difficult sometimes. As good as most of our stuff is, it could be a lot better if they'd just let me.....well -- it ain't my corporation anymore. At 90 days I'm eligible for health insurance and, at nearly fiddy-eight years old and with TBK's health issues, I just shut up. I was lucky someone hired me. I keep telling myself that. Their recipes are their recipes and all I'm allowed to do, basically, is adjust the salt and pepper. The wheels of the gods grind slowly.

On the other hand, I'll be getting a chance tomorrow night (after the regular gig) to work with a friend who shares my pirate spirit at his place Uptown. I'm doing this for culinary reasons (he's a former James Beard Award nominee) and because, well, neither of us quite fit. He's bound and determined to do what he's going to do and, because I understand that attitude so well, I figure I'm gonna do it too. Buccaneers always sail better in pairs. It's only food, baby.

TBK is off in California and Arizona getting some badly overdue time with her mom, sister and long-time friends. Things had reached the point we both needed Time Away -- not from each other but from How Things Were. I've been seriously enjoying the Space and she's been seriously enjoying the Time. She'll be back in a few weeks and we'll focus on The New Reality and go forward. In the meantime, next week brings the annual St. Patrick's Day stuff in our neighborhood and a much-anticipated visit for a few weeks from my niece, whom I haven't spent time with in several years. It's a good time to be here.

I chafe sometimes against What Is, but better that than staying with What Was. The thing that keeps me going is thinking about What Can Be. I've always been that way, sometimes to my own detriment. But if I was the practical type, I'd be one boringass individual.

There ain't no stories in boring. I'd hate that.

UPDATE! UPDATE! As of this morning (Monday, 2/12/12) I have found employment as a chef at the Rouse's on Tchoupitoulas. The pay isn't out of this world, but it's a paycheck I can certainly work with and for. It is good to be back in the working world. That said, here is my last entry from a few days ago....

I'm heading into the third full week without regular work and it's long past time to get back on someone's payroll. The first week off was a badly needed break, and the second was used to kick the job search into high gear. At least so far, it appears the third week will be a combination of job search and hoping for some callbacks. It's a sign of the times that the Sunday "jobs" section of the local paper now only consists of three pages -- partly because people don't rely on the paper like they used to but also because there simply aren't a whole lot of open slots out there. But, that said, New Orleans is still a better place than most if you're looking for work.

We've managed to cobble together a little income doing guacamole for The Avenue Pub and geting a little help from a friend to manage this far. We've still got another week or so before the next round of utility bills will start to hit us, so we've got time to land something. But whatever it is, I've adjusted myself to the idea I'm going to be bringing in roughly the same amount of dollars I was earning some 30 years ago. It'll be enough to maintain what we've got, but just barely -- and that assumes TBK is working part-time and I can gin up some extra dollars on the side. I've found a good way to do that by being an extra in local TV and film production. I spent yesterday doing some stuff for HBO's "Treme" and it was delightful. It basically involves a lot of standing around and doing the same things over and over, but they pay like $100 a day or more and you get to meet some pretty neat people. Yesterday's scene was a recreation of a near-riot at City Hall back in December '07, when they went into high gear demolishing the city's public housing projects.

I see why a lot of people who are suddenly out of work sink into serious depression. I've got an advantage over many in that we built a solid reputation at J'anita's and recent reviews are easy to find and very good. But of the roughly four dozen resumes I've put out there online, only two or three have resulted in callbacks from would-be employers. One of those is potentially very good -- running the new dinner operation for an existing breakfast/lunch place downtown. It's got a very good location by Lafayette Square -- but the place has to be remodeled before we'd actually start doing anything. This will take a month or so and doesn't help our current situation. I've had a meeting with another well-known local chef who finds himself in a situation similar to ours and we've started brainstorming possible solutions. He's got a great facility in an excellent location Uptown, but faces some heat from neighbors and some potential permitting issues.

The best response I've gotten so far has come from taking matters into my own hands and following up an online application with a personal visit. There's real potential here and I hope I get the offer, as it would alleviate short-term economic worries and allow us to move forward. Combine this with some online cooking classes I'll start doing in a week or so and we'll be back in the personal income column again. But if it falls through, I'll simply be treading the same stagnant water again, and it has already gotten very, very old. Fortunately, the only service we've lost so far is Sirius turned off the satellite radio receiver in my truck (and that's a pay-in-advance deal). Boo-fucking-hoo for sorryass me, having to listen to CDs and regular radio during the very little driving around I do anymore.  

I've been doing my best to stay busy around the house and to get out to see as many people as I can. But the fact of the matter is gasoline is expensive and, as such, I'm not (yet) in the market to look much at anything outside of walking or streetcar distance. Given that the truck is running rough (needs at least a valve job) and this week marks the arrival of full-blown Carnival season, I'm not sure what's going to rear its head or if I'll be able to take advantage of it. We still have a little food in the house and (literally) a few dollars, but that will all be gone in the next day or two. I have a few things at the house I can hopefully sell to raise a little more cash, but the market's not very good right now to sell big-ticket items like the piano. If I couldn't sell it before the holidays, I dang sure can't do it now.

Not that I'm pessimistic, because I know what I can do and what I can offer and I trust myself to be very resourceful when required. We're extremely fortunate to be in the position we're in, given that we've gone a year with virtually no personal income and I've been playing dodgeball with the IRS over the '09 tax return. I have a meeting with them this week, but I've already been told I'm considered "uncollectible" for the time being. Thank God we managed to get out of bankruptcy at the end of the year and our mortgage company has been patient, or we'd be in much worse shape. Just get me regular employment again and things will plane out over time. No use in hanging our heads or saying "poor me" because things could really, really be a lot worse. And it's Carnival season, so all we have to do to find free fun is walk up to St. Charles Ave. when the parades are on. Time with friends is always restorative, and we've got good ones.

All this has given me lots of time to keep a more consistent eye on news headlines, and I gotta say it's an ugly scene if you're out of work and looking for a little help getting going again. I went online and had a look at the process for getting unemployment benefits and food stamps and I'll take my catch-as-catch-can situation as it is, thank you. Anyone who says benefits are too easy to get hasn't had a close look at the process. particularly for those who have been self-employed. Trying to sign up online is useless, requiring a visit to a local office and standing in line behind scores of others while carrying a load of paperwork that includes everything from mortgage documents to tax returns to statements from former employees to showing how many times you take a dump in the average week and how much water and toilet paper it takes to wash it all into the sewer system. You'd think it would be easy for bureaucrats to simply go online, look up all this information (like any average marketing firm does) and easily calculate what someone is eligible for, given their work, income and taxpayer history. But I've also learned the folks who work in these offices aren't the brightest of the graduation pool and are tasked by their higher-ups and political bosses (the legislature) to treat everyone as a potential shyster or welfare queen.

Given this situation, it wasn't a surprise to look at the arguments in the US House this past week over new rules for jobless payments. On the one hand, you had the far right wanting to require welfare recipients to enroll in a GED program. Are you fucking kidding me? After more than 40 years of taxpaying and work history, you want me to do this kinda bullshit? But on the other hand, the far left was pushing for eligibility for jobless benefits to 99 weeks. NINETY-NINE WEEKS. NEARLY TWO FREAKING YEARS. Dude -- I'm sorry you lost your job as an autoworker or whatever -- but you've gotta learn to do something else. I can guarantee you I can come up with all sorts of things to do in two years' time. It's been less than three weeks for me and I'm already considering all kinds of things with all kinds of pay scales. You gotta create your own damn safety net -- and safety nets are always far below the high wire and the trapeze.

...so we'll see how it goes. First priority is getting a little cash in the house to buy food, then to secure another round of utility payments. It ain't easy, but I'm relaxed and confident something's gonna work. It always does. I'm lucky that way -- largely because I make my own luck, thankyewverrramuch. It's how I operate.

After a little more than a week away from work, I'm at the point where it's time to go back. I haven't been in this position for, oh, about EVER -- since each time I was looking for work, it was while I had a job I was itching to get out of. But at least I was working. The closest to this was back in fall of '06, when I took the job at Dick and Jenny's because regulators had cracked down on our roadside BBQ operation. But even then, we had a way to gin up a little income while looking. Not so this time around.

The biggest change in the job hunt is the advent of online application. With the exception of my application at BreauxMart on Magazine, EVERYPLACE wants you to start online with at least their Craigslist ad and go from there. The application sites for the big hotel operations like Marriott or Hilton are the worst (I'm casting a wide net -- hoping for the best but planning for the worst). But I've gotta be realistic about a series of things....

I'll be 58 years old this year. I'm fortunate in that I'm healthy enough to be able to still work a 50-hour week with no side effects beyond just wanting to take a decent nap on my day off. I'm able to squelch the idea that I've been my own boss for nearly all of the past seven years and, if I want a paycheck, I'm going to have to be willing to take orders from someone who might not be much older than my own kids. It's not that it's a humbling experience -- it's just the way it is and I'm lucky to be in a city where the job market is as fluid as it is. Particularly in the culinary world, there is a respect for experience and someone's track record, both platforms on which I can compete very well despite what would be a job-killer in most other cities. You wanna compete with the old man, junior? Bring it.

That said, the only line cook slot I might be enthusiastic about is one I've got an interview for tomorrow -- a new French bistro place Uptown. I say "might be" because they do a type of food I love in a very good neighborhood with a very good head chef and they'd want me to set up the tapas operation in the adjacent bar. This implies a certain amount of autonomy with dishes I'm enthusiastic about and can do very well. That said, it would be a return to night work -- but only five nights a week. I need to determine just how late this might go and what other details are involved. The amount of pay is also crucial, since I have bills to pay and the standard line-cook pay won't suffice. We do not live in a two-bedroom apartment in a divided-up house in the Lower Garden District and shared with four other residents, like the majority of service-industry folks.

My ideal slot would be one I've discussed with the Rouse's on Tchoup. They are in need of a chef to help run their demonstration kitchen in the back of the store, which will soon be able to sell wine by the glass. This would allow me to do all sorts of things in a creative manner in a relaxed environment in a place that closes at 10pm. I've also received response from Whole Foods about being a sous chef for them up Magazine. I'd be willing to do prepared foods in a place that's very good to its employees, from what I understand.

I guess the main thing I'm concerned about these days is getting a little cooperation. For the past five years or so, I've been out at the end of a very long branch and fighting some very tough adversaries on my own. I've loved it and I've been a loud advocate for anyone who leaves convention and safety behind to Fight The Good Entrepreneurial Fight. I've argued long and loud against corporate "security," since I think it drugs and stifles creativity and, frankly, my attitude has been that if you ain't living on the edge, you're taking up too much space.

The downside of this is when the branch breaks or, like me, when you choose to jump off, the landing can be very rough indeed. Mind you, it never hurts as much as you think it will. But I'm at the point where I have to make some compromises if we're going to remain where we are and as we are (if we can salvage it). There are places for me that understand both sides of this issue and those are the places I'm seeking.

I turned down a gig this week for Mardi Gras. There's a very rich family from California coming to town for the final two weeks of Carnival and they've rented a big house in the Garden District. They're seeking a personal chef to create wonderful things and handle all their food and wine needs the entire time and I am sure it would be a fun experience and something I would have done very well. I'm sure they'd also pay very well. But they'd be gone come Ash Wednesday and I'd still be here. Not gonna turn down the long-term in favor of the short. I've done that too often over the past five or so years.

There's lots of stuff in play these days and many directions to consider. I don't like it, but I love it. I'm still in the drivers seat. But I also gotta do what I gotta do.

Luck be a lady. Please.

It's been four days since I walked away from the working world and I know I gotta get back to it really quickly, at least in some form or fashion. But I gotta say this scant four days has made a world of difference in my attitude and productivity. When you work a five-day week and you get weekends, too often there's a rush to get things done around the house or whatever or a rush to relax or some kinda self-imposed push to do something before your time runs out that you can exhaust yourself to the point you're even more tired on Monday morning than you were the previous Friday evening. That has not been my problem over the past few days.

I've been so out of touch with The Other Side for so long that I didn't realize how different our world has been from what most would consider "normal" life. TBK and I were able to stroll Magazine St. yesterday ON A SATURDAY for the first time in nearly five years, stopping for the annual Beer Day at Stein's and continuing on to poke around for awhile. Last night we actually WENT OUT FOR DINNER on our sixth anniversary (thanks to a gift certificate) and someone WAITED ON US and SOMEONE ELSE MADE GREAT FOOD and we cruised back home on St. Charles feeling like the Monopoly banker pitching money and favors out the window and waving at the Little People on the sidewalk. For, like, 20 minutes. But, sure enough, we came back around to Go -- except this time we no longer get our damn $200. I wish.

On the home front, we've been able to do in two days some things we've been putting off for a year. Move the bed and clean out the dust bunnies. Hose off the front stoop. Stow all the flotsam and jetsam of four years worth of restaurant work. We've been a couple of Accomplishing Mo-Sheens and I've still had time to sit and watch a couple of movies on TV and take a couple of naps and leisurely leaf through the Sunday paper and all kinds of shit. What has allowed this is knowledge that tomorrow is Monday and I don't have to get up at any particular point and do a goddamn thing. It is, for at least the short term, glorious. Really.

On the other hand, I have 62 cents in my pocket. This is the sum total of our available cash. The power and cable bills are paid for another month, so we're good on that. We've got some food in the house. I'm due to be paid tomorrow for our final few days of work, but some of that will have to go to the last payroll and more than the rest will be sucked up by other bills that must be paid right away. So, offered as evidence, ginning up income is very high priority.

I've been using the shotgun approach when it comes to jobs. There is so much I've got experience at doing various things that I'm either a) overqualified, or b) considered too old. Of the probably two dozen applications I've thrown out there, I've gotten like two responses -- resulting in an audition for a part in Treme and interest from a developing restaurant on Canal St. to help them come up with some new sandwiches and other menu items. Neither has called back after initial contact. I've been told (and rightfully so) by one friend that my resume is a little, ahem, stark. Well, I suppose it is in these days and times. I do not go on about my skills or my desires. I list who I am, how to contact me and give a no-frills rundown of what I've done over the past, oh, 40 years. As a potential employer, that's all I'd be interested in. But perhaps I should seek some advice. It's been awhile.

One thing I WILL be doing beginning next weekend is writing a weekly food column for The Uptown Messenger. I'm really looking forward to this, since it will allow me to express some opinions I've kept to myself for too long and to have fun pushing the boundaries of food writing past the usual reviews, recipes and gimmicky things like Brett Anderson's series on roast beef po-boys. The main thing I learned in doing travel and food writing for the AP is that I don't hoit or toit very well -- nor do I gush or lambast. I do not see New Orleans as the center of the food universe (and there isn't one). It'll be fun.

I frankly have no idea what I'm going to be doing 30 days from now or, really, by the end of the week. There needs to be some income but I don't know where it's going to come from. But, on the other hand, I couldn't keep doing what I was doing where I was doing it because there was no future.

It's hard for some to understand, but my feeling is the Not Knowing is a hell of a lot better than the Knowing All Too Well.

I closed J'anita's today. Not shut down to move it (again). Closed it. Done.

I guess I'm what you call a serial entrepreneur, so I can't say this is the last time I'll ever set up something on my own again. But this marks the third time I've entered into a business and each one has ended differently. The common thread in all of them has been a point at which I optimistically push them beyond their design limits because I am convinced I Will. Not. Fail. This was a good thing for the smoked cheese business, which was thriving until Katrina took it away. I frankly was too young (late 20s) when I literally got bored with the radio station (though the location was horrible anyway) and, this time, the location I had to take (due to a forced move) was simply unworkable. Like I told someone the other day, you could park the MetLife blimp over it 24/7 and still have trouble drawing a consistent crowd that far off the beaten path. Lesson learned -- or at least reinforced.

There was a great deal of sadness when we closed the original J'anita's because I knew there were so many rookie mistakes I made in its operation -- things I should have asked or known or found out more about. We were able to hone the edge through experience and observation during our time at The Avenue Pub and, I can honestly say, this third incarnation was one at which we did pretty much everything right (at least as far as what was in our control). That's not failure -- it's improvement. And God knows we have found so many wonderful, wonderful friends, customers and colleagues along the way. 

...but now it's time to stop. After five years, I'm simply tired. In a perfect world, I'd hit on tomorrow's Lotto ticket and take TBK on a month-long trip to several places so we could see people and things we've been putting off for far too long. We can't do that, of course (we were lucky to pay the power bill today), since I've gotta gin up some income pretty quick. But only half the jobs I've applied for are kitchen-related. French Quarter tour guide? Writing some free-lance marketing drivel? A weekly columnist? Work as an extra in movie and TV being shot around here? Hell -- it might just be me making that potato salad and fried chicken you buy at Rouse's.

The best thing about self-employment is you have to learn to do so much with so little that, before long, you're qualified to do anything with nothing. It's a highly transferable skill, and I have little patience with those who say, "well, I can't really DO anything else." Bullshit. It's the same attitude I hear from too many of our local "leaders" and the local thugs and the others who are so focused on honking and beeping and looking backward for revenge or to cover their own ass or make excuses that they fail to realize just how much New Orleans has remade itself over the past six years. They're part of the problem, not the solution.

I choose to be a reinventor. I'm practiced at it and I'm good at it.

...but first, a few days with no schedule to meet or doors to unlock or food to prep or dragons to slay.

I've earned it, brother. Big-time.