I’m 53 years of age.

53

Average life span is creeping up man.

Average lifespan for people like me (white American male is 74.8 years. I’m 53.3333333 at the moment. Law of averages means if I go bout my business I have 21 years to finish up everything before someone else is talking me up behind a podium with some sort of bloated eulogy and Facebook photos cropped and downloaded and on a digital stick with a timely shuffle to sift through my life moments while some folk sit in a bleached congregation of brick and mortar while mourning and or celebrating my memory.

I’m pleased that I won’t live to see it.

No one lives forever. I used to be obsessed with immortality. “How do/can I skip the mortal part?”

As a kid you want to live forever. That vibe stays with you until it doesn’t.

I love living life. With every shitty memory I have 100 more awesome memories to trump it. Always been my philosophy that if you have a shitty day today make sure it doesn’t repeat itself on the next one. Doesn’t always work out that way sometimes the days can string together some consecutive doozies.

It’s life. Life’s hard most of the time.

If it’s easy for you chances are you got a cart someone else is pulling for you.

At my age you start to slow things down because things move faster than they used to. Or the other perspective is you don’t move as fast as you used to. Technology starts to pass you by, traffic become more than congestion it becomes a hindrance. There aren’t that many first rodeos anymore in fact you’re filled to the tits with been there done thats. I find myself checking off things in my head that I no longer wish to persue or deal with.

Changing my algorithms as I call it.

I’ve visited places that I’ll never see again and talked with friends that I’ll never talk to again. No im not going anywhere anytime soon if I have my say so in the matter it’s just you reach a stage in life where you slowly begin to eliminate things as opposed to carry them along anymore.

You begin to lighten your life satchel. A lot of your necessities become unnecessary. It’s not any different than outgrowing your toys. You lose interest in things that have no real value in life. Ever see an old toy for sale and get excited “I used to play with this all the time!” You must’ve lost it you would’ve never parted with this. On a whim you purchase it. You take it home and stare at it. Maybe if it’s a toy plane you even walk around with it soaring in your hands making that old jet noise or “whooooosh” as you dip it down and raise it back in the air like you just found Jesus. You look down at the toy and smile, you and put it back in the box. With that smile you realized you aren’t that kid anymore. You’ve outgrown that toy. What a time you used to have back in the day with it. You never lost it you only lost the interest in it. Your parents discarded it for you. They already knew what you didn’t know.

I do this with quite a few things now including experiences and colleagues. It’s ok to think “I no longer need this person in my life”

It’s fine to part ways without drama. There can be peace with separation. Act accordingly.

This has absolutely nothing to do with anyone in my circle. I have the healthiest circle in all of my life and it will always be secured.

You begin to shed things is all. The older you get the less you can carry, the less you wish to carry.

Sometimes I look at my life as a pie chart. Not a complex one more of a balance of work and life. Working is a fundamental part of your life.

For the majority of us that is. Some of us don’t have to work as hard as others. That used to bother me. Still does on some platforms but usually only pertains to individuals working along side of me. Part of my lightening my satchel was eliminating most of my employees. My inner circle of employees become friends that I love but let’s be honest the other 75% of my staff were degenerates who made my day harder not easier. It’s the truth guys. The rising cost of goods takes the pride and heart out of your staff.

When I try to explain my burnout at my old company it’s misrepresented. I wasn’t burned out just on the service industry. I was burned out from working.

Period

I got into the work thing at 15. 30 hours a week while in school. I wanted to quit school and just work. Get out of school and go to work at 5pm. Get off at 9 or 10 and go home. Weekends I worked all day Saturday or Sunday be it first or second shift. Didn’t matter where. When I moved out of my parent’s house before my 18th birthday I put my head down and went to work.

And here we are.

From 15- 19 I worked about a dozen jobs. Summer types, odd ones and seasonal ones but I always had one. My parents struggled a tad financially so if I wanted something I worked for it and bought it and let me tell you I never got much. I’m talking about clothes and gas money not cars and hobbies. Or I’d buy the real brands and not the knock offs I’d have to wear to school. It was status for me y’all. I didn’t have much going for me as a teen. 2.0 gpa and my senior yearbook accomplishments filled up about two sentences on back page 73, paragraph 4, third sentence right above the Moore’s store ad.

Just let me live a little ffs.

I’ll never make fun of someone for what what little they have or they brand they represent. I used to get slapped in the back of that head walking down the school hallway for wearing off brand jackets. I was never a Members only but I wanted to be. When I was finally released from the bureaus of our state education duties I went straight to work. Sure I signed up for Tech too. Three times. Gave em around $2k of my hard earned money to drop out every first semester. School just never worked for me. Paying for something I absolutely hated was a hard pill to swallow. Looking back I’ve never regretted dropping out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

I’m 53 and still not sure. I sorta stopped searching to be honest.

I’ve mentioned before about why you don’t really see my daughter working in my deli. She does on occasion but it comes in small bursts. She just turned 15. She’s legally able to work. So was I at her age and I did. And I’m still trying to catch up what I’ve missed out on. Financially we are better off than my parents at this time but a broken leg can change all of that in one day. American healthcare raises it’s ugly head. My daughter will work in due time. I’m not raising her to join the working class ranks at 15. I’m not raising her to be me. What I will do is raise her to appreciate what she has and to find her zest in living and not just working.

I have literal decades of my life where the only thing I can reflect on is work. I had a little zest in between but there’s no balance. I’m the kid sitting on the seesaw alone. My ass is work, the empty seat hovering in the sky across from me is play.

If my life were a pie chart..

That’s probably being generous..

Overtime didn’t exist in my career. That’s acknowledging you worked more than the deeded 40 hour work week. It was the standard for me. If it wasn’t two jobs it was salary. Salary means your company owns you. I hit my first salary position at 26 and worked 50 plus hours for the next 23 years. 60,000 plus hours of my life I’ll never get back.

The reflection pool gets deeper as you get older. The further the depth the colder it gets.

The majority of us work because it’s like breathing. It’s on auto until it’s not. The same feeling of suffocation hits when you’re not able to one or the other.

I’ve been unemployed for a total of 4 months in my working career. Three of those when I had a DUI in ‘93. Took me a solid 8 years to get back to normal after that between money gouged from my checks for insurance and my dumbass having an affinity for credit cards in my early 20s.

The pressure to maintain is overwhelming at times and here we are expected to also set aside funds to finally allow us to stop working when we are too old and tired to actually perform in labor intensive jobs. 25% of the US population has up to $100k in their bank account. 20 years ago that may keep you around for a bit. You’ll run out of that in 5 years just from food and utilities.

Sometimes I want to take my life savings to Cherokee and put it all on red. If I win good for me if I lose it’s the feeling “ok I’ll go work my ass off and get it back until I can’t. That either reads as I can make a lot of money in a short time or my life savings is so meaningless that it doesn’t take much to reach that amount again. Choose either one.

This is a long ramble and I’m a rambler to the core. The more I write the deeper I can dig into myself and that’s a good thing y’all. Sometimes you have to chip away to get the bird shit off the statues. It’s therapeutic but at the same time it’s a restlessness that agitates me at times. Like a long line to the register to get your food when you skipped breakfast.

It’s hard to say this without it being a knock on my business. I love my deli. I get filled with pride when I’m inside doing my thing. When people come in complimenting, engaging and smiling that’s what I’m there for. Every single thing that comes out of that kitchen represents me and my brand. I don’t give a fuck if it’s two crackers in a build your own box. I inspect those crackers, I’m making sure I’m stuffing three oz of olives in a 2 oz cup. I’m inspecting my employee’s set up tasting everything he makes.

The system has made me this way. It’s a good trait but it’s exhausting.

I love the deli but at the same time I hate it. I’ve created my own leash and collar.

This isn’t a declaration of surprise or boggling. I knew this process before it started because well this isn’t my first rodeo. I did it to survive and remain relevant. If you aren’t relevant in this occupation you’ll get one write up in your local online periodical that announces that you’re now a statistic. Every one will say

“We loved that place!”

“I’m shocked it closed it was so good!”

And then move on to a new place faster than a teenage romance.

My passion is for creativity. It holds my attention. If you walk into that deli it changes every week. Why? Because that’s how I keep my sanity. If I feel something getting stagnant I become the same.

I’d throw my body against the wall for my old company and it took a beating. When I opened the deli I made a checklist of behavioral patterns I’m careful not to step into again. About once a week I find myself doing the some of the same song and dances I used to do with my old company.

It’s purely psychological I’m aware but work exhausts me now. The thought of going into work gives me anxiety. I used to think I pulled a vocation muscle but I’m beginning to think I broke it. It’s not physical health I could go on a 5 mile run tomorrow if I had to but work on the other hand I’m tired after about 2 hours.

Depleted

It’s completely mental and I’m dealing with it but it makes it a tad difficult when I’m trying to run a business. I’m good at what I do. I’m basing this on my experience and obviously the consumer’s reactions. I’m well experienced and prideful. I don’t troll reviews to be difficult I take them personal.

I used to love what I do and I don’t hate my career it’s just like a long relationship that’s lost it’s luster. There’s no romance, surprise gifts or hand holding. It’s sit across from the dinner table and eat your meal without saying a word. I knew I was in this headspace before I opened the deli.

Shake it off Gangwer it’ll get better.

That pie chart is not accurate obviously it’s a generated exaggeration.

But

At the age of 50 I had to acknowledge that my 30 plus years of hustling and bustling was a bust.

I do acknowledge that I have gained quite a bit of understanding of food and business. I can sit at a round table with big restaurant execs and fit right in if I took a moment to clean myself up. I’m probably more qualified than most of them to be honest I’ve always remained hands on it’s the only way I know how to work.

I envy those professional athletes that realize their passion for the game has left and they retire. I forgot to save my signing bonuses so that won’t be me.

This blog has turned into a diatribe of self pity and maybe that’s where I was going? Maybe not I think I was trying to manifest some sort of savior moment with my writing and conjur up the answer to the universe but I’ve seemed to have missed.

Let’s lighten up this tone a tad.

When I walk into my deli I let out a big sigh and smile. I walk around and do my checklist routine. I walk past my coolers I purchased, my ovens, my food and creations and I exude pride. It’s a positive extension of me. Its my new baby.

I created Graze to survive. Every month there’s a new mother fucker doing charcuterie out of their homes or garages I have to contend with. My sales were not dipping they were maintaining. For 8 months they maintained and didn’t rise. Previously they were increasing.

I bring up Southern a lot because she was the belle of the group. Other than occasional miss management from some extremely sub par GMs we kept landing she kept the company sailing. Sometimes she paid everyone else’s bills. As a business man I’ll always say let the sinking ships sink. We might’ve exposed her by using her to keep the others afloat. The last year I was at SC it was hard. Weekends dropped in sales (except for brunch) and weekdays became a ghost town. $5k Thursdays were $2k. I was spent trying to revive her every damn season. It gave me some ptsd. If graze has a few consecutive slow days I react in kind. I’m sitting on breakfast at the moment to try to not be the knee jerk reaction jackass I’ve become. When it’s slow I start moving furniture. It takes my mind off my anxiety. Just thinking about it exhausts me.

I’m surrounded by compliments with my work. And it gives me energy to go about my business. By compliments I mean the total strangers that walk into my place every week thanking me for opening the deli. That’s all I want these days. Im not chasing that empire anymore my feet are too tired. All I ask for nowadays is to not have that dread of watching my business bank account dip below the holy shit level. It’s not there yall and it’s not the subject of this blog. I could do $10k in two days and then $200 the next and my mind goes into auto fail.

“Is this the start of the decline?”

“Did I fuck up opening this place?”

Have you ever experienced this?

It starts with a monthly meeting of financials. You’re pouring over your P&Ls “we had a soft month and finished 8% under last years sales”

Everyone throws in their two cents as to why

“Election year, it always screws us everyone is holding onto their wallets”

“New restaurant opened down the road”

“Construction across the street is causing detours”

You all throw out your excuses hoping it’s not because your hometown found a new girlfriend and has moved on because this town is the most fucking fickle market around. Oh yeah I’m a bit tarnished yall.

After a few consecutive slow months you begin to lose confidence in how you run your business. You think about that one dish that came out cold on Friday and your mind is asking you “does that happen frequently? Are customers not coming back because food is coming out cold?” So you spend the next three weekends riding shotgun with expo and touching plates to make sure that’s not the issue. Kitchen goes down in flames on a busy brunch shift. “How many folk won’t return after today? We hit 47 minutes on tickets. Is the menu slowing the kitchen down?” So you change the menu out of desperation after a few consecutive shit storms. Now you’ve pissed off some regulars who only came to eat brunch for that specific dish you took off the menu. And you spent $600 on another menu reprint.

I did this for three underperforming restaurants. I also shuffled this shit around for a steakhouse that lost its footing too. I put that restaurant on my shoulders like it was mine for over a decade. I left there because it never was.

If this blog is bringing you down it’s not my intention at all. This is therapy for me when I doubt myself. It’s a mind vomit and oil change for my brain. To get it out and flush the negative shit down the pipes. When I write things down I begin to reckon with it. I learned how to do this when I made a checklist of the things that were slowly killing me and after I wrote them out I began to take them on one by one. This is no different the only change is I’m checking off things that cause my mind to focus on negative points so I can address them. I remember all that I write for some odd reason. Once I document it I start to reckon with it.

What are you going to do with this Gangwer?

No clue..

But

I’m manifesting positivity. Yeah no this blog is not the epitome of positivity but it begins a path for me mentally.

Acknowledgement is the phase one. Manifesting is phase two. Instinct, awareness and patience shall follow (fingers crossed)

Listen

I love the deli. I love the freedom of creativity. I love my customers

I also love my life and it’s taken me a long ass time to reach that without the aid or dependence of my career. Sometimes it tries to stick its toe into my happiness and take it away. That’s what I’m trying to balance without going into self destructive territory. I’m fighting my behavioral patterns. Writing helps regardless of who reads it.

I’m manifesting change in my environment and vibes.

Happy soup if you will.

Turn the burner on and let’s go.