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This Good Life

“Hey you jack wagons, get your effin ball off my friggin lawn before I shove it up your tuchuses.”

August 16, 2014 By Bob Leave a Comment

This post was inspired by the following question posed on the Facebook Group, “Parenting Rules.”

 I have friends that think it is cute to refer to parents as “breeders”. How do you advise I handle this tactfully?

If you have a moment, I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter in the comments section below.

We taught our kids that words only have the power we assign them. If the context is pejorative, the word takes on that meaning. We taught them that sound-alike curse words were no different from the real thing if all you’re doing is substituting one for the other. What really matters is the intent behind the words.

“Be sure to taste your words before you spit them out.”
~UNKNOWN

As an example, I know the slang, “breeder,” can be used in a derogatory way. In fact, I find the term amusing rather than insulting or demeaning because I don’t identify with labels, and I don’t know anyone who has used it with the intent to hurt or demean me. And besides, it’s a pretty accurate description by way of my offspring.

Growing up, we called each other names all the time and nobody ever went home and told their parents, “Johnny called me a so and so, and on the process demeaned my family and me.” Half the time, we didn’t know what the word meant.

In case you don’t realize how many every day words can be considered insensitive by some and downright offensive by others, here are a few ethnic slurs according to Wikipedia. Have any idea who you’re insulting when you say these words? Yeah, me neither. And no, I am not making any of these up that you know of.

ABC, Apple, Aunt Mary (with apologies to all real Aunt Mary’s out there), Banana, Cheesehead (sorry my friends from Wisconson, look for lawsuit coming any day now), Coconut (This one’s OK cause I hate that pie), Eight ball, Flip, Fuzzy-Wuzzy (yup, I said it), Hairyback (ewww), Jerry, Mau-Mau (I thought that was fish), Peckerwood (that’s what she said), Quaker, Skinny, Yankee (do much for doodle dandee) and finally, Dandy (I was going to pass this one up until I listed, “Yankee” which only seems fair).

One more than one occasion, I remember a neighborhood boy calling me a “fag when we were very young.” I went home and asked my mom what it meant. She told me it’s a cigarette in England, but a derogatory word for homosexual in most cases here. After explaining why I was asking, she walked with me to the neighbor’s house and asked my friend what he thought the word meant. He simply replied, “it means someone’s a jerk.” The families discussed the matter briefly, it was explained to us the word could be seen as offensive to some, but not others depending on the meaning. I probably learned a bigger life lesson from that than either parent intended.

I think we spend too much time teaching our kids, “bad words,” and not enough time teaching the very trickier rules of context and interpretation. But that takes empathy, common-sense, reason and precious time when educating our young – four things that seem to be in short supply everywhere you turn these days.

Paths Not Taken (Part Two)

July 4, 2014 By Bob Leave a Comment

Continued from Paths Not Taken (Part One)

It was the cheese, the crust and the sauce that made a Buddy’s pizza. The other toppings were just there to hitch a ride on the cheese, the crust and the sauce. And I had the recipe for all three – never to do a single thing with any of them, except for an occasional personal pie for family and friends. The cheese, the crust and the sauce.

But I would be lying if I said I never seriously thought about it. In fact, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve threatened to open my own restaurant, a bed and breakfast, food truck or catering service. But as so many other things, life gets in the way of the things we dream of.

You’ve probably heard it suggested that, “the food business is a young person’s game.” While I believe there is some truth to that, I also believe I will never be too old to do something I really have a passion for.

Except becoming a theoretical physicist. I think I am too old to become a theoretical physicist.

I have always loved physics. I can still hear my high school physics teacher providing the only law of physics we should absolutely never forget – ever. Referring to electricity, he beseeched us, “never become the pathway for electrons.” This, as he would continue to explain, would mostly result in death.

Good advice really. And it got my attention. Thus began my love of science, particularly physics – another path not not taken.

But that reminds me of what I love most about my chosen career path.

As a brand, marketing and communications consultant, I get to work with the restaurants and scientists I thought I was leaving behind, among a myriad of other businesses every day. As a web usability expert, I get to design websites for every type of business imaginable. It’s through these businesses in which I get to live my paths not taken vicariously – every day.

I am really happy to have learned all about pizza at Buddy’s, cooked in my dad’s bar and restaurant, and worked doing magic as a bartender during college. But if I hadn’t taken the path I did, I would never have had the opportunity to consulted with several very cool restaurants – developing their brands, menus and marketing strategies. I never would have been able to work with the esteemed scientists, doctors, college professors, community leaders, government agencies, artists, musicians – or several of the largest companies in the world. For these reasons and more – I am grateful the unique and rewarding opportunities my path has afforded.

But there they sit in my recipe file. The cheese, the crust and the sauce.

My Menu (Part Three of Paths Not Taken)

Paths Not Taken (Part One)

June 29, 2014 By Bob 2 Comments

The following events may, or may not have taken place in this precise order.

My first real job ever was selling shoes on Saturday afternoons.  I was probably 15, barely old enough to get a work permit. To this day, I distinctly remember what the owner of Whitehall Shoes looked – and sounded like. It wasn’t a bad job, but the truth was I was biding my time, hoping to get a call from the place just across the street – Rudi’s Subs. That’s where I really wanted to work – in a restaurant.

I didn’t get that call right away, and my hours dwindled as Whitehall shoes found itself competing with big box retailers who had begun their descent on the community. I soon replaced my lost income working at the theater next door to the shoe store.

One day, I walked over to Rudi’s between jobs to buy some lunch. While waiting for my order, I struck up a conversation with the owner about the application I submitted a few months back. We chatted for a few minutes.

“No sir, I am not old enough to drive yet, but my mom will be sure I arrive on time.”

“Yes sir, I can make change without using a register, would you like me to show you?”

I guess he was impressed with my answers, or maybe that I was working two jobs at my age. Regardless, he offered me the job right there, and then.

“Yes sir, I can start immediately.”

I really don’t remember much about the place except that I was just happy to be working at a restaurant. Then, I got the news Rudi was closing his doors. He had sold the business.

As it turned out, he sold the business to another, thriving entrepreneur with plans on expanding – and improving the menu. Goodbye canned mushrooms. Hello fresh-baked breads, quality meats and produce – and PIZZA!

Buddy, the new owner invited each of Rudi’s employees to re-interview for their job. Much to my excitement, he asked me to stay. When I asked why I got the job, I remember him saying he wanted employees who loved good food, not a job. I was just turning 16 and already had, for me at the time, my dream job.

Buddy took me, and a couple of others under his wing, and taught us everything he knew about pizza making. We made subs and salads too, but the pizza was the thing at Buddy’s. Not just any pizza either. Pizza made with his mom’s third-generation sauce recipe. Pizza made with his own secret blend of cheeses. Pizza made in such a way, there wasn’t another like it anywhere – a fact that stands true to this day. It was, and remains incomparable.

I was young, but under the stone-cold stare and iron fist of Buddy’s supervision, I learned that pizza making was it’s own culinary art. I took pride in making the best pie I could. He encouraged me to experiment with dough handling, stretching and throwing techniques, ingredients, cooking surfaces, oven temperatures – every aspect of the pizza. We made some improvements along the way, but mostly they were experiments in what not to do – and why.

It was my four year stint as a pizza maker that started my love affair with food. When I finally had to leave my job, my parting gift was his mom’s sauce recipe – with a promise to never share it with anyone.

I promised. And with that promise, Buddy had turned me into a food snob before I even graduated from high school.

Paths Not Taken (Part Two)

Skinny Dipping in the Daylight

June 16, 2014 By Bob Leave a Comment

On January 18, 1984, I was having coffee with a close friend and mentor who suggested I write down what I felt was most important to me, what I believed in, what made me tick. He then suggested that I revisit the list every ten years or so. “Most importantly.” he told me, “don’t ever stop challenging who you are, what you believe in, and what you are most passionate about.” He also suggested I tuck my responses away in a place I wouldn’t forget.

I did.

Recently, while rummaging through several old boxes from our storage room, I came across a tattered notebook, covered from corner to corner with my chicken scratch. Inside I found a diary of sorts – lyrics, poems, photos, some old receipts – and the self-made profile I had forgotten all about.

I have little recollection of writing it at all, let alone where I was, or the state of mind I was in when I did. Reading what I could of the faded pencil markings, I was surprised how different I am now from Old Bob – so much so, I probably would’t recognize old me if I ran into him at a party.

We all change over time. Some more than others. In my case, not only would I not recognize Old Bob, I’m not even sure I would like Old Bob.

On a side note, Old Bob was once known as New Bob. See, when I arrived at college, one of my roommates, and longtime friend ever since, was also named Bob. Upon my arrival, I immediately became known as,  “New Bob,” recurrently and painfully underscored by the fact that every time someone would play “Situation” by Yaz, the lyrics, “move out,” sung during were, en masse replaced with, “New Bob.”

New Bob, don’t mess around
New Bob, you bring me down
New Bob, how you get about
don’t make a sound just New Bob

As I was saying, I’ve changed a lot over the years. So much so it made me think that very few people who knew Old Bob, probably don’t know New Bob very well – especially those I’ve not spent any concentrated time with since my move to Atlanta.

So, I thought it would be fun, albeit a bit narcissistic, to make that list again – this time, focusing on how I’ve changed most over the years, and with the promise to try to stay in better touch with myself than I have in the past.

More importantly, this is part of my self-imposed therapy designed to help me get to know myself better, while offering those around me who care a glimpse into what makes me tick now. Consider this one of those, “21 things you don’t know about me,” type of things.

Each of these beliefs are the result of personal experiences over the last 30 years of my life. I think I am a better person for most of these, but regardless, they are a sum total of who I am, and will shape who I become. This list was not easy to compile , particularly knowing I was going to make it public. In the end, I hope this inspires you to act, question, learn, laugh, or maybe even get to know me – or yourself a little better.

  1. I believe nobody should be made to feel they need to apologize for — or defend — what they believe in. It’s our differences, not our similarities that make us special.
  2. My heroes are not celebrities, politicians, sport stars, authors or artists, but those who dare to challenge the status quo and “moral standard” by exercising a courage to stand up for who they are and what they believe – particularly in the face of criticism.
  3. I believe the quest for truth and understanding can not be clouded by partisanship or pre-conceived truth. The day we stop listening to others and considering we may be wrong in our conclusions is the death of our intellectual soul.
  4. As a result of number three, we must constantly question everything – most importantly, ourselves.
  5. Science and religion need to co-exist in our world – they are not necessarily mutually exclusive, nor do they threaten each other. Instead, each fills a gap left by the other. They lift each other up in our support to bring reason and comfort to the unknown. It is the human condition to make decisions based on logic and emotion.
  6. I believe freedom comes from detachment – of possession, reliance, thought, and deed.
  7. I believe it is cowardly to bitch about something without offering a solution, or at least, honest discourse with those who agree – and disagree on the matter.
  8. None of us have the right to judge another human being’s morality or beliefs. Nobody for any reason – ever.
  9. Just once in your life: Jump in a swimming pool naked, during the daylight, in public and without shame
  10. Do something to excess – pushing your boundaries – occasionally.
  11. Every so often, eat something you would never consider eating.
  12. Admit something to someone you that makes you very uncomfortable.
  13. Take a genuine leap of faith.
  14. Give gifts others don’t need, but will bring them great joy.
  15. Accept gifts without argument or apology. Anything less – or more is an insult.
  16. Live life on your own terms before its too late.
  17. Fail with a smile. Succeed with humility as you will certainly fail again.
  18. Sleep, at least once, on the street and on cashmere. I’ve done both and must say, they are equally cathartic.
  19. Those who call themselves open-minded, creative, understanding, loving, etc., usually are not.
  20. I really don’t care too much about what other people think – that is their business, not mine. Nor should you care about this. This is my business. But if we should happen to share a passion, let’s make it ours.
  21. That day when you make a list of your beliefs, is a very weak day in your life. But without weakness, we cannot identify, let alone appreciate, our strengths.

And so it goes.

23 years later, it still feels like new!

October 3, 2010 By Bob 1 Comment

In some ways, 23 years is longer than I can imagine, in other ways, it’s a very short time. We’ve done so much together, experiences others only dream about. Thank you for every moment we’ve shared. Being married to you is the easiest thing I have ever done — and the most rewarding.

With all my love, happy 23rd anniversary, Sandy.
 

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© 2005 – 2022, Bob Kadrie, Bob Kadrie, LLC, Atlanta, GA