I became a different person when I turned 50.

No

I didn’t blow out 50 candles on my birthday on September 5th and go “holyfuckingshitimabutterfly!” Although in the back of my mind it was a dim light that came on. Like a damn candle down a long dark foreboding hallway. It was a little surreal when you add that it started off so distant that I could sense the process of that light coming into existence before it even illuminated. Scientifically speaking that bulb must’ve been millions of miles away to take that long to reach me.

I always tell people I’m in the restaurant business now and not service industry. The distinction between the two for me is restaurant business is just that to me now. It’s work. It’s my occupation.

Period.

Service industry was more than that. It defined a lifestyle. A full time 24 hour 7 days a week vibe. It manufactured me over the years into a different soul. It changed my lifestyle, my thinking, my scruples and shredded my mental health like a cheese grater.

Deadass

The problem is when you’re in the industry the only recognition is it’s par for the course. You’ll be fine when you get off of work and get on that barstool. That barstool is like the therapist’s chaise. It’s where you go to let go,

I ran out of things to let go of years ago and started hoarding everything. My emotions, anxieties, stress, physical pain. Every shitty thing you can put under a Christmas tree I held on to it and it made it more and more painful to carry it everyday. There was no fucking crown that grew heavy it was just hangovers and depression. My head was too big to wear a crown.

In this industry the betas become street side trash overnight.

I developed and created a healthy failure paradox in my head. Even to this day you can see the residue of that stagnant feeling in my deli posts.

Back to 50

The feedback I get from friends and family about my reckoning brings a smile to my soul. I have to say somewhat shamefully that all I did was follow that light. Like illuminated instinct. My brain pointed at that light and I went into that direction. I use symbolism quite a bit in my writing probably because that’s how I grasp things. Metaphors, similes all those figures of speeches they’re like sentence ornaments for me.

I use that light not as a reference because I truly believe I saw it. Believe what you want it’s fine but my transition speaks for itself.

I firmly believe that light would’ve never turned on had I not left the industry. The industry was my self perceived bestie. My drinking buddy, my devil on the shoulder wearing a halo. It was also blocking my path to that light. Like Doc Holiday said to Kate in Tombstone “ We must talk darling. It appears we must redefine the nature of our association.” I didn’t feel that at the time however even after my split I was still fixated on building another empire. Kicking and screaming I was drug out out of my industry shell.

I don’t tell too many people this because to be honest I didnt want any negative focus on my old company but I was forced out of my partnership. It made me angry, jaded, bitter and then extremely depressed. I felt like a failure in my family’s eyes and I took it out on them emotionally. I turned my drinking up to notch 11. I tried my best to destroy everything I love out of spite of being a failure. I got real good at it. I lived in my own little world of self pity for over a year. Disguising my struggles. I wasn’t expressive I only brooded. Darkly

In retrospect getting pushed out of the company that I founded, created, sacrificed everything for was the best thing that could happen to me. Highly doubt we’d be a company of three regardless of my terms there. Lto had one foot out the door before I left but that’s not my point.

It left me no choice but to sit down and redefine myself. How long did it take to process? I’m still sitting down.

I reached out to my old partner’s wife after his passing to respectfully send my condolences. I wanted to tell her that my last convo with her husband may have been harsh but ultimately it might’ve saved me or at least have a lasting impact. If you knew her husband like I did you would’ve known that was exactly his intention. It took his passing for me to sit down and accept that one on the chin too. I didn’t say those words. We hadn’t spoke in three years. Condolences took precedence. After we spoke briefly I took my pettiness off the table. Enough is enough

Back to 50.

It took a solid year out of the industry to realize it was slowly killing me. Charcuterie was here to keep us fed until I found something more substantial. Every day I was looking at properties or concepts for sale. I had zero capital to invest due to COVID shattering my finances but in my head I kept telling myself “you’ll find a fucking way you always do”. The issue was my passion was zero.

Subzero

Service Industry was my life. I allowed it to be my entire life and it got taken away from me. I could’ve accepted a half dozen decent roles in other restaurant groups but my motto has always been never move backwards. Also I have gotten so used to not having a direct supervisor for a decade. Even my old company of 16 years the last 6 years or so I pretty much managed myself. I was an old dog with only a few tricks left. I imagine I’d be a terrible employee to manage now.

Back to 50. The transistion from 49 to 50 was a big one and it took a minute. The summer before my 50th could’ve possibly been one of the worst summers of my life. My depression peaked as did my drinking. I was hell bent on destroying everything close to me. I wanted every branch on my tree cut off so I couldn’t reach out to feel anymore. Let me be a fucking stump and die. I wasn’t suicidal I just didn’t want to be here anymore. Absolutely nothing brought me joy. That’s when the light started to show.

Had I not seen it..

I was hiking. A little waterfall trail in Saluda. I was hiking because I had no clue what else to do that day. The trail was closed near the falls. I had no intention of turning around I just wanted to get lost. If I slid off the falls and cracked my head I could’ve given a shit less. In fact I was ready to embrace it.

My phone pinged with a random text. I looked down at it and I turned around from my hike and headed back to where I parked. The light had made its way to me.

On my way home my mind hatched a little thought. “We need to talk Chad.” indeed we do my friend.

I started writing notes in my phone on the way home. A list no one saw but me. A list of what I had to reckon with. I memorized that list. It was quite the list. The lists of all lists. It fucking hurt to read it because it was written to provide me the means of stripping myself down bare to the bones, exposing myself to all of my terrible habits, faults, accountability, liability and overall behavior not becoming of someone that I was striving to be.

I wanted to reinvent my legacy. Let’s be honest it wasn’t going very well up until then.

I feel like most of us are aware of our shortcomings we just don’t have the structure, time or effort to reckon with it. You can acknowledge it but that’s about as useful as a political post on Facebook. Awareness is beneficial but it lacks foundation without actions. I can name all sorts of shitty habits and patterns I’ve conjured over the years. I only winced and kept going.

It was an hour drive to get home and I was still writing what needed to be done.

50 was just around the corner.

I started writing and signing some peace treaties in my head.

50 was very symbolic for me. In my head for a few years after I turned 40 it was always “you’re gonna be 50 one of these days”

“50 is right around the corner”

“Next year I’ll be a half century years old”

“What the fuck have you accomplished?”

I’m a procrastinator at heart. I don’t task well unless you give me a specific deadline. If you need something done by the end of the year I’ll probably start it around 11pm December 31st. Ok 6pm because I like to go to bed early.

For some reason 50 became the ultimate deadline for me. I fucked around being a juvenile for too long.

I started making changes that summer but it was all relative to my upcoming half century existence. I didn’t cross anything off my list because these are daily tasks that I must repeat to keep my reckoning pumping. It has to be perpetual. It cannot leave my grasp.

Dedi fucking cation

The big one on that list was my favorite one – alcohol. The whole fucking list revolved around the drinking but I kept moving that one down as I challenged the others.

“Let’s deal with this issue first and we’ll tackle alcohol tomorrow”

When I turned 50 I did it the same way I did for the last 30 years. I got drunk.

And I watched that light dim in my head.

I didn’t want to give that last part up. I made excuses and felt like I needed to be rewarded for my attempt at becoming a respectable human being. Hell if anything I started drinking more because of that.

I had turned a big corner, a big solid leaf but I could feel myself slowly sliding and hating myself again.

The thought of eliminating vodka, my most favorite toy in the world, seemed impossible to me.

It’s ludicrous to acknowledge the one thing you should remove from your entire life that could be beneficial in every single phase of your physical and mental health and still be like “nah”.

Addiction is a friendless cunt.

When I got out of bed on January 1, 2022 I did something I hadn’t done in awhile. I got up to get ready for the day, walked in the bathroom, turned on the lights and looked at my face. I always washed my face without looking in the mirror in the morning. I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know what I’d see. Bloodshot eyes, swollen cheeks, exaggerated wrinkles, dark circles under my eyes. I hated the way I looked in the mornings. I was nursing my all too familiar hangover. Probably my 900th in a row.

I stared into my eyes in the mirror and looked at someone I no longer wanted to be. It wasn’t the light in my head this time it was the shitty bathroom bulb shining on my face.

I looked in the mirror and said the sentence I’ve repeated 903 times now.

“I’m not drinking today”

I’ve shared this story before. 100 times and will tell anyone willing to listen 100 more times.

I’ve spent the last three years rebranding myself subconsciously. I didn’t realize I was evolving. Hence the retrospect. After time as I analyzed my behavior and motions over that period. How I respond differently to situations inwardly and outwardly. The “in” part being the most imperative because we all put on our false bravados at times. Am I in full control? Fuck no but I have full situational awareness which prompts me to steadily progress inwards and outwards.

And upwards

I’m rambling.

Your body/brain have an amazing way of connecting the dots for you. But you have to learn to listen to it. Still working on that but I’ve gotten better.

I won’t say that light magically appeared in my head. I created it with my subconscious thoughts. I knew what I needed to do to improve myself as a person and to establish a legacy that was more than “he had some cool restaurant concepts.”

I fought with myself over this deli. Three years I’ve fought.

Three years I’ve pursued this dream all the while fighting against it.

Why? Because I had to be 10000% sure I was ready. I had to shake off that last bit of that SCHPG guy (I can’t even remember what letters go in there anymore)

Each time I got close my mind and my body told me I wasn’t ready yet. The location I chose when I first looked at it someone had already swiped it from me. My agent called me a month later and told me they backed out. Also kudos to that guy because I was all over the place with my opinions. I backed out of quite a few spots. He was patient

That’s when I knew that spot would suit me. Not some heavenly sign from above. Just my instincts finally saying “hey friend, you done good. I think you’re ready now.”

So I signed that damn lease.

While I write notes for the business I have another list of notes of I reckon with for myself on an individual level.

A checklist of patience, positivity and delegation. I no longer want to or wish to do it all. To have control everything. And that goddamn failure paradox that haunts me.

I’ve submerged myself completely in the creation of Graze. I’ve touched everything that has been brought into that place other than the tile installation. Every fucking shelf hung, every inch of wall painted, every plank, every anchor. Ok Charlie hung a few too.

This was a rite of passage for me. I’ve built many a kitchens and concepts in layouts that had the footprint already there.

This was a blank canvas from head to toe. It’s been exhausting for me but I needed it. This is training to reawaken my passion. It had to be done.

I couldn’t have done this last year or the previous chadcuterie years. I lacked the passion. Right now I’m so locked in but it’s not the same as it used to be. In my past this would feel like I’m waiting for the starting gun to go off to run a marathon as fast as I can. I’d be jacked screaming on social media “GIVE ME YOUR MONEY”

Buried that mother fucker not too long ago.

This one feels like studying for finals. Something I never did. Like I actually studied this time around and I’m not winging life.

The light I reference to sits beside me like a side table lamp. It’s a part of my infrastructural headspace.

I’m grateful for it’s illumination.