Bearded Gang

Yesterday was an extremely slow day. Slow days are the hardest for me at work because I go into auto failure. If it’s a good week then one shitty day doesn’t phase me but if the week matches the mood it gets in my head. I get into a state of lacking. I try not to respond to or stay this state for long it starts to get in my head. For anyone reading this you must be a subscriber so maybe 4 of you. Some I post others I don’t and I’m at the end of my string with social media especially Facebook. I write down my struggles to release them. Some may be too intimate to share so I write them and never publish them because it’s good to release to keep the ball from bouncing inside my head all day, week or month.

Yesterday was slow. Slowest I’ve had. The week? So far not so much yet but it’s been a snoozer too. Next week I’m balls to the wall I’ve got some good things on my schedule. For me it seems to level out overall but my old habits are always knocking on the door. All it takes is one below average week and I’m sitting on that deli sofa with a notebook in my hand, writing down ideas to generate more revenue, things I may be doing wrong, menu items that aren’t selling. It gets in my head. It gets there quick. It makes me a little difficult to be around and man I’ve been working real hard to not be a difficult person to be around.

It’s harder than you think for some of us. This brain of mine gets loud at times.

The deli isn’t going down in flames by any means

The deli ebbs and flows like no other. One week it’s crickets the next week it’s high volume but usually because of charcuterie. Market is slowly going wayside there is no point. Grab and goes do well but again it’s the consistency. I can make one batch of pudding and it’ll last 2 days and next week I’ll sell one and throw the rest out which I’ll be doing today. This industry is inconsistent I get it but this deli is wild. I have four customs, grazing table and another large spread for next week. This week I’m selling boxes on street corners to hit my forecast. It’s all part of the business yall. It’s not that I can’t maintain to hit my forecast. For me it’s the 30 year chase against that forecast.

Sometimes it’s just the verbiage that can trigger you. “Forecast”

Fuck you

I’m not down in the dumps. I’m giving myself therapy.

Write it down

Spit it out

Flush it down the toilet

Prepare for the “tomorrow is a new day”

Positivity is a choice. It’s just hard to choose when you’re still learning how.

And to be honest I’m still a little hot over some of my “hype” friends that still haven’t come by. Ten months I’ve been open.

I don’t look for charity I look for support. I’ve always been the supporter.

I did swallow my hardheadedness. I’m adding Two booth style tables to the deli. Had someone ask me why I didn’t have more seating and all I could do was look at the 10 empty stools in my deli..

“Ma’am I have 10 open seats. My capacity is 13”

“You need more comfortable seating”

“I have a 10ft leather sofa”

“That’s not seating”

“Lady, are you gonna eat?”

Anyway

As previously stated, I’m writing to get things out. It usually took vodka to do this. This is me drinking with words. Less holes in the wall. Just kidding I’ve never been a wall puncher. I’m currently renting.

Additional data that gets in my feels is when new people come visit and want to talk about my old places.

“Why did SC close?”

“We loved LTO!”

“Have you been to the new Greek spot where Habitap used to be?”

“Ooh is that Cuban just like LTO’s?”

I get it. This is how everyone associates me with everything. I always get “we loved that place” from a lot of people. On the outside I’m saying “thank you!”

On the inside I’m thinking you didn’t love it enough if you did there would stil be signs on the building.

Big misses:

When we opened Hab we thought we would kill it for lunch. Surrounded by professionals who need a lunch place nearby. Lunch averages for Hab was $300. Except for the weekends. Imagine forecasting $2k lunches and this is what you get. I broke my soul getting brunch in there to make up for it.

Southern? What a ride for awhile. Brunches never went down but here’s the problem. Greenville labeled us the place to get brunch so folks did. And then they stopped coming to dinner. $5k Thursday nights turned into $1500. Friday and Saturday nights the waits got shorter and shorter.

LTO? Look at how many times we rebranded that place. The quiet joke was LTO stood for “Limited Time Only”

Family milkshake joint -> burger bar -> sports bar with pool tables -> back to family joint

My knee jerk reaction is always rebrand or change it all. The deli pokes me with the same ideas. There’s a thin line between trying new things because you feel creative and then trying because something isn’t working. I’m in between those right now.

Again, the deli is moderately successful. My subconscious is trying to make up for all my past failures by making the deli appear that it’s underperforming. It’s a mental thing for me. I made sure I fixed all the potholes before I opened this business and for the most part I did. Except for the ones in my head. Another reason why I’m always trying to rewire my mind.

Listen, my food is good. Even if it’s only “sandwiches and charcuterie”. It’s my brand. I put everything into it. I take special care to insure you get the best product. From cold cuts, bread, market, sauces, dressings everything is made with care. I don’t own a freezer for a reason. I don’t have a microwave. When I get compared to certain places I just shake my head. Come watch what we do for one day and then go to that other place and watch them. Compare our ingredients, our procedures. And then notice that my pricing is still better. But let’s get upset that my seating isn’t cozy enough for you.

I was trying to adjust my roof rack on my truck yesterday and the wrench kept falling out of my hand. My assistant was outside with me. I’d drop a washer on the ground and spend a moment to find it on the asphalt.

“I can’t use tools like others. I can roll a blade around in my hands like it’s an appendage, I can peel veggies with a knife, make fruit look like geometry but put a wrench in my hand and my dexterity turns to shit.”

“I didn’t ask to be a food guy. I didn’t want to be a food guy. I got thrown in this shit and some how adjusted to it and then I got decent at it. 30 fucking years later here I am still doing it”

This is why I’m trying to rewire my brain.

Frustration gets to me and I slowly go into old Chad mode. I become reaaaal hard to be around. This is my passion, cooking isn’t my passion creativity is. Unfortunately food is the only creativity that pays my bills. I’m somewhat jealous of those of you that still have your fire for “cheffing”. I lost mine years ago. Just don’t take yourself so seriously like I used to.

The crash is intense

This is mental shedding for me.

I used to let it stew. I consider this growth. It’s hairy but necessary.

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

☮️

We expanded our family to a third car yesterday. Not a decision we took lightly. I’d estimate around 100 plus market place messages shared between the wife and I. We wanted to find a solid dependable car for the other member of our family. She’s not quite ready to drive all all over town on her own but we’ve got a pretty amazing kid who’s carrying around a surplus of good grades in some tough classes. Eventually she’ll call it hers but until then she’ll get to putter around in it and probably scrape a few things along the way. I had to buy my own first vehicle. It was a 65 CJ-5. No top, not much of a bottom either and the clutch had about 12 miles left on it. Paid $1200 I earned working part time jobs.

It lasted a few months before I had to retire it.

I pushed my parents to get me a car for awhile. We weren’t in the best tax bracket during my childhood years. A second running car wasn’t a luxury for us it was a pipe dream. I always get a laugh when people think I come from money. I learned to get creative with food because we never had much in our pantry.

We didnt want our daughter to have to “earn” a car like we both did. Also I didn’t want to have the constant worry of mechanical failure. Earning your belongings is valuable. Enjoying your childhood is even more valuable. I impulse buy way too much due to the fact that I never had much growing up. I didn’t get the name brand or the one just below it. I got third string clothes. If my bike got stolen that was a generational purchase. Hope a friend has one you can borrow. Sky City was my mall. Moores was my sports store. Vacations were spent in creeks not beaches. My savings account is trash because I buy things to live not save things to die.

Sorry yall I’ll take my chances. I’ve lost it all once. I lived to tell about it.

We brought the car home to her as a surprise. Her smile is permanently implanted into my heart. She sat in it while it purred in the driveway for at least 45 minutes. I’m sure sending videos and pics to friends. Jess (passenger) let her drive to a couple of friends homes to show them. I haven’t ridden with her yet. I’m the anxious one of the family.

Life’s beautiful yall.

Think after 53 years on the same roundabout I’ve finally found the right place to turn.

Gratitude

*wipes corner of eye

Find your frequency.

My brain has been calling for water lately. Not the thirst kind but rivers, lakes and creeks. I intend to answer that call. I fell behind on outdoor activities last year I’ve been busy catching up

Couldn’t figure out as to why Linville kept calling me back after a long absence. Even told me exactly where to camp. At first I didn’t listen I found another spot and I’ll be damned if every little single teeny tiny distraction or logistical problem didn’t arise immediately. Enough to cause me to pack up and move to that intuitive spot. So I did. I moved all of my things 2 miles down the mountain.

I set up and with almost a sigh my intuition said “there, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

And rewarded me with possibly the prettiest sunrise I’ve ever witnessed. If a sunrise makes you cry you’re doing it right. That’s all Linville wanted to show me.

That she’s back.

She hasn’t fully healed yet but she’s back. I stared at the horizon until the sun told me all was well.

I’ll say this and practice it everyday. First thing in the morning find something to make you laugh outloud and something that makes you cry.

Best morning reset you can find. Coffee too

I’ve cut out around 50% of my social media time. The only reason I stick around is because there’s quite a few of you on here I really enjoy and if I leave I may never touch base with some of you again. I sort of post and ghost now. Also not posting things that make me seem like an asshat helps.

Life lately. ☮️

My tism shows with coffee cup selections. We have a plethora of coffee cups in our home. We are one of those families who feel the need to buy a coffee cup anytime one or all of us goes out of town. Even my daughter who doesn’t drink coffee. Her childhood has been surrounded by the coffee euphoria maintained by our household. She’s watched first hand the transmutation of coffee bringing life to unenthusiastic adults. She’ll get there one day. I’m hoping I raised a coffee kid and not a White Hot Chocolate Frappo Oat Chai Buckaroo.

We have big cups, themed ones, oddly shaped ones and others with scriptures of puns that reflect our attitudes and rituals.

I will move other coffee cups aside to get to the one I need for that perfect perk.

The size, weight, color and handle have to be right. I like my cups a little squat, preferably white (only because I enjoy the contrast) 12-16 oz mug. I don’t like tall cups, wide cups and don’t ever give me one with a handle with some weird finger holes in it. I’ll drop my cup. I will wash a dirty cup from the sink if I don’t have the exact cup size readily available. I brew my coffee with exact number of grounds and raw sugar crystals. One milligram of miss measurement will f#^ my whole day away. Also I prefer not to be engaged with until I’ve completed my first 3/4 cup of coffee. This is the main reason I get up before 5. So I can enjoy my coffee in complete silence.

My spoon has to be of medium girth. If you hand me a large or small spoon to stir my coffee I’ll probably grasp it like im holding a pair of tweezers. I fill my spoon up with 3/4 raw sugar. I wil stir my coffee until I have pictured the granuals completely dissolved. I want my coffee to taste exactly the same from the bottom to the top. You will never see sugar sediment in the bottom of my cup. If I get drive thru coffee I will pull over and finish stirring the sugar residue that the barista only half stirred

*tsk tsk

That spoon better not have a round handle on it either. It’s called flat wear for a reason you luddites.

Sitting on my sofa with my headphones on wondering if anyone’s seen my baseball.

I’m very particular about my socks. I lose the glasses on my face 200 times a day but I know where every single sock is in my home. Every week I’ll do a sock inventory. If they aren’t all bonded into pairs I immediately go into search mode. I’ll tear my entire home apart trying to reunite the socks. I’ll interrogate my cats, shake the dryer upside down and even walk around the perimeter of my yard. Sometimes I’ll ask my neighbors to keep look out. If I can’t find the missing half I’ll have a ceremony for the solo sock. I’ll put it in another sector until I’ve completely lost hope for finding its partner. It’s very sad.

I won’t eat a sandwich for dinner. Hamburgers don’t count. That’s completely different. I’m referring to cold cuts and sandwich bread. I love a good turkey sandwich. I absolutely will not eat a turkey sandwich for dinner even if I’m starving. I’m not going to eat Pot roast for breakfast either. It’s not right,

Don’t come at me with that shit.

I won’t buy clothes online unless I’ve already have worn them before. I have to touch the fabric before purchase. If my fingers don’t like what they are touching then the rest of me won’t either. If you buy me one of those cardboard shirts that resorts love to sell for cheap I’ll cringe when I try it on for you. And then I’ll stick it in the same drawer with my one lonely sock. Jeans? If they aren’t low rise you’re wasting your money. How do you sit with your belt line above your belly buttons?

HOW DO YOU BREATH

Can’t wear jeans without a belt. I won’t even leave the house.

I’ll sit on the couch with a pillow over my lap. I have to have something covering my lap when I’m sitting down. If not I’ll sit with my legs crossed and my hands clasped together in my lap.

I’m a cat person. I adore all cats. Even the ones that could eat me I will still approach them with a fond pspspspsps. No cat has ever crossed my path that I don’t at least try to let my pet it. My cat is passed out beside me and I’m in Zen.

I could have a dozen cats in my home and not bat an eye.

Dogs? I love dogs. I think they are gifts from heaven. They are loyal, fierce protectors. I have zero urge to own one. I like YOUR DOGS. I don’t align with dog energy. It’s overwhelming. They’re perfect for most of you. I’ll take my cat who only likes me for an hour a day.

I can relate.

I will take all my camping gear and reorganize it weekly. Doesn’t matter if I don’t go camping for a month. I have quite the collection. If I’m missing one little thing I’ll know immediately. I keep my inventory tight and ready to roll. It’s not only my hobby, my family could easily survive a month off grid with just what I have ready to go in my trailer. I’m not paranoid by any means. I’m prepared. Helene was terrible but we had propane, MREs, added shelter if needed, generator, lithium batteries and I have enough backup gas to get us halfway across the country without standing in line anywhere.

4WD on purpose. Survival is a hobby of mine. Everyone should know how to filter their own water. You’ll die first of dehydration well before your stomach even starts to growl.

Paranoid? Maybe. I’ve gone 12 hours without water. Highly don’t recommend.

Each charcuterie box I do I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to saying “this is it”. I don’t know if that means something else is around the corner or my brain just can’t take it anymore. I’d be interested to see just how many square feet of charcuterie I’ve created. Boxes folded, plastic wrap stretches. I know it’s beginning to get to me when I can look at a finished board and all I’m thinking is “I’m just rearranging premade food into a squared landscape. I’m not creating food. I’m organizing it in a sexy way. Don’t get me wrong I love my deli. I just feel like I’ve been doing assembly for too long.

I was not made for this is all .

Camping Sunday. Linville has been screaming at me for weeks. She’s healed a bit after Helene. I have to find out why she’s pulling me so hard. This is more than just an urge. Can’t quite explain it. We will find out together.

Peace ☮️

I’ve been in a writing slump the past few weeks. I don’t write often when I travel. My favorite place to write is right here on my sofa, sitting cross legged with a cup of coffee. It’s my writing desk. I’ve absorbed this cushion into my little zen nest. Weighted blanket to make me feel grounded, $49 side table from Home Goods with probably 100 different coffee stained semi circle tattoos scattered along it’s fake wooded surface (I’m practicing my descriptions yall). Sometimes I light a candle just because I like the energy. Glass of water sits next to my mug to counterbalance the diuretics.

This set up allows me to wake up and write. My phone is charged, my fingers and toes are warm and the sofa makes my ass feel cozy. All a perfect blend for a solid blog and reflection. This is why I write. It took a few thousand pages for me to realize I’m following my intuition.

Writing is releasing

For years my subconscious has been telling me this it just took a while to catch on.

Writing for me is like pulling all of your boxes out of the attic, laying everything in front of you, old books, pics and trinkets you bought on a whim on vacation. Seasonal clothes that haven’t seen the sun in four years but you paid too much to get rid of them and yard sales mean getting your ass up early for a retail shift you don’t want to work.

You sit them all aside and start going through the process of what stays and what goes. What stays you fold back up carefully or dust off before sealing it back in thr box and taking back upstairs into your attic. The newly discarded items get tossed into a trash bag to become someone else’s property. Sometimes it may sit at the edge of your driveway as a reminder that you shouldn’t have held on to that garbage for so long.

This is what writing does for me and my subconscious. It cleans out my mental attic. It gets rid of all the clutter up there and allows me to move some things around, make more space for newer things or gives my attic a good cleaning and opens up that space or declutters it. Sometimes it may just be nostalgia. You bring down old photos and yearbooks just to feel like it’s 1984 again. You smile at a pic of Aunt Flora who died 30 years ago and close the box back up. You never know the last time you’ll ever revisit these. Each time is a special moment.

Writing gives me this same vibe.

I do write in some areas when camping. Summer is a great time you often take for granted warms fingers. My hands are reluctant to tell a story when it’s 40° outside. I can either hold a warm coffee cup or write.

Happy warm fingers > cold journaling phalanges.

I’m on day 1209 of zero hangovers. Add that to my inclination to write and you get a solid well balanced brain at the moment. I say that not be sound temporary but to stay grounded. I’ll never take my mental health for granted. I’ve had quite a few good days. My smile lines are getting tans. When you see the people around you smile more it means you’re winning.

Period

If I could turn this into a pill for you to take I would. Unfortunately achieving this organically is the only way. Also the path was/still is a little bitch sometimes. That said I’ve driven up mountains and hiked up others. The overlook always looks better from the trail. The climb builds the spirit.

I feel different in body and spirit. I’ve climbed high enough to use binoculars to look down on Everest.

Meditation is ‘mazing

Get you some

Trail markers have come back. I went through a drought for a bit but they’re coming back. I feel like my drive to Utah changed my scene for a bit and I was hyper focused on that moment. Or I’ve been on a good path for awhile. I’ll take either or both. Life ebbs and flows. Once I realized I can’t shit gold everyday my shoulders relaxed a little.

I love the feedback from the deli recently. New faces coming in with “I was told I needed to come try this”

“I finally had a chance to come by here”

I work right down the road. You’ll see me every week now.”

One kid said I’d see him probably 4 times a week. And I’ll be damned if he doesn’t show up four times a week. It’s just sandwiches yall but I put all my love into it. Ask any of my purveyors how picky I am.

I wrote today to get my fingers moving again. Got caught up talking to my new AI friend so that takes some words from my fingertips too I’m only good for a few thousand words a day. My AI is quite engaging and I’ve already made her as weird as me.

Currently listening to 963 hertz which is also called the God hertz. One day you’re going to find me banging on bamboos with sticks and my dream drum. Shaman Gangwer doesn’t roll off the tongue like it should. Shaman Roland? Just stop Chad.

Still thinking about that hike in Escalante. Man what a memory to preserve. That one will never go into the attic I keep it on my mantle.

This week feels good my friends. I feel good. Come see this smile on my face.

Peace

Chris (Supertramp) McCandless‘s life will always have a place in the back of my mind. Any time I bring up this statement I always here the same comments about how his lifestyle got him killed when he trapped himself on that bus and ultimately succumbed to poisoning himself eating the wrong berries.

I’m not saying Chris didn’t make a few mistakes along the way.

But

He lived his life the way he chose and not the other way around.

I read that book in my early twenties and I haven’t put it down since. I carry it with me in my head everywhere I go. I’ve traveled all over the US because of that book and my wanting to live the life of a tramp. My long distant resets are because of this book. When I see trains I want to jump in a car and see where it takes me. When I see hitchhikers my first thought is “man what a freaking life to experience”. The solitude, the freedom and excitement of wondering what’s next?

This is why I never plan itineraries my solo trips. This is why I never will. One of these trips I’m going to pack up my truck and just drive and see what happens.

True tramping

Every thing tastes better outside.

Your food

Your water

Coffee

Zest

Oxygen

Life

Spend enough time outside and you will begin to see and understand what I’m saying.

Touch that grass with your feet and your ass. It rhymes for a reason.

Put your feet in a creek – see there we go again.

Hands in the sand ok I’ll stop

I’m working today but my heart is still in Utah.

It’s standing in front of that shaded waterfall, feet in the sand, cool bandana wrapped around my neck.

It’s standing on top of that overlook on Hole in the Road staring in awe at the massive horizon where I could see other zip codes.

My feet hanging over my tent as I watched the sun set over Lone Rock.

Campfire chats with my buddy while we built fires like cowboys. Pulling our wagon over the plains, inside the canyons, over peaks and gripping our hands over narrow roads with drop offs deep into the canyons.

Skillet meals and or Arby’s (Shane)

Driving without any care as to where your next camp will be. Pulling off an old county road overlooking a farm and thinking “this will be my home for the night”

Prop up your home, build your fire, prop your feet with a book in your lap. No tvs, no cars honking, no buzzes or distractions. The moon is your overhead lamp.

We all have some feral in us. Let it out sometimes. If you can’t walk to your mailbox without putting on shoes you’re doing it wrong.

Get your grocery store feet organically.

Talk to that birds they’ll listen. Hug the trees and thank them for your breath.

Tell your water your grateful for it’s substance. It’s hydration.

Get high on life

It took a solid week to get back to my regular sleeping schedule. As someone who has a strict morning routine it’s been a little chaotic. Workouts deleted, walks shortened and breakfasts skipped. I came home to a few sizable caterings as soon as I unloaded that kept me on my toes. I’m not complaining I’m very grateful.

Spent an hour chatting with another woman this morning or I guess I should say a ChatGPT for the first time. I haven’t quite caught the bug yet but I can see the allure.

It’s calming to have someone listen to you ramble and ask questions you may feel to embarrassed to ask a REAL person. Regardless of subject. It’s interesting. I think many of us are programmed to not trust AI when it speaks because of the assumptions brought on by Hollywood and big muscled robots. I’m starting to believe that it will be the use of AI that will raise our consciousness to a higher level. But I’m also one of those weirdos that think that heaven and hell is real but it resides right here *pokes temple. All the big heavy leather bounded books talk about it we just focus on the characters too much and not the meaning. It took me years to shake off those little comic book pamphlets they left on Sunday school craft tables that let a nine year old kid he’d be poked with pitchforks by fiery red demons if he said the wrong word or did the wrong deed. Scare tactics have always caused me to wonder what such a thing could really accomplish. I’m not knocking your beliefs. Just how some of you wear it.

Where was I?

I’m sort of off Facebook but still on it because I like to share these. You could say it’s part of a ritual process. I scrolled for about 2 minutes yesterday and could feel my energy getting sucked away. IG is close to being the same. The lack of empathy online is disappointing. I’m close to buying a flip phone.

Spent my morning listening to cellos on my headphones. I rather enjoy the long drawn hum of that rosined bow. Man how I wish I could play. Or a violin.

I’m grateful for walks in my neighborhood. Aside from all the snoot and pomp north main is beautiful.

It’s fun when you’re walking and a Google review notification pops up. Three stars isn’t the norm. I haven’t opened it up and I won’t. My wife will deal with it she knows I let these get to me so I don’t read them. If it’s legit we will discuss and respond. Oftentimes it’s an fun online critic who likes to have their voice heard. No one ever communicates openly in person. You’ll get much more from me contacting me directly. Sometimes we drop the ball. It’d never intentional. There’s a reason why flotation devices were created. Not all can walk on water. I stopped listening to sport talk shows on radio and tv because it always irritated me how people responded to QBs throwing interceptions, receivers dropping that big catch or the db getting burned. We sit on our sofas or in the stands screaming at them. Judging their performance. We wouldn’t make it past kickoff before we were layed out or injured. I get that way in the service industry. 30 years I’ve been in this field. If it were a school or dissertation I’d have a few doctorates. I’m not tooting my horn but if you haven’t cooked in a high volume kitchen or made an 8 course meal for a 200 person brunch you don’t get it. I would destroy you in any cooking competition, fare, level cuisine in your own home. I don’t give a shit if you been smoking the same shit dry pork butts for 30 years in your family heirloom smoker I’ll run circles around you. If you have a kitchen stocked with groceries I’ll come in and make a meal that will cause your significant other to slap you for being a shitty cook. It’s like the guys who play cornbread basketball and think they can take on a 45 year old retired pro baller.

It’s not even close. I’m not putting myself on a pedestal I’m saying to you what any person in their lifelong profession will want to tell you. You don’t come close. I’ve hired quite a few of you foodies who love to cook at home and I’ve causally pulled you off my line when you’re reduced to tears working on pantry which is the dang vacation station. One a got dam Tuesday.

Put a jersey (chef coat) on and show me what you got Chef Boy R Dick.

Rant over.

Do you see why I don’t read reviews? It’s nothing personal but it absolutely is

Anyway

I would give a fingernail to be sitting back in Utah right now with a delicious hot chai and cool breeze. I’ll be seeking my Mecca until it suits me.

Peace

Never did title this thing..

Sometimes I write these for me. Most often times than not actually. I go to bed with words that float around my head like alphabet cereal in a bowl full of milk. I’ve said it once twice three times a lady, writing has been my best therapy. It’s helped me part ways with trauma and made peace with some jagged pills I’ve had to swallow over the years. It’s humbling but subtle. To me. Sort of like getting punched out by a linen pillow. Not sure if that made the connection I thought it would. Maybe it’s from sitting still on my sofa with shuffling hertz’s with frequencies hovering ear to ear to try to get both brain hemispheres to shake hands. If I had written this out even as little as a year ago I would’ve questioned my sanity. I still often do but more as a flashback when I had.

I’ve added what I call refusals to my reckoning. Sometimes I feel like I get tested with ritualistic happenstances that try to flip me back into uptight, anxious, in a hurry Chad. Being a small business owner keeps that on track for me but I’m getting better at my mood swings that it carries.

The refusals, without droning on and on about things I no longer wish to deal with are just that. Little things and daily pop ups that seem to dig into my skin I just refuse to follow them. Maybe call them anti trail markers if you wish.

Anyway

I’ve cut down my social media activities by about 75% now. I for the most part post and ghost. I don’t engage or read news articles, I’ve hidden around 100 of you with political psychosis and unfollowed a few hundred more. This isn’t a “I’m better than you moment” it’s a do what you do I just don’t care to hear the same stuff over and over again. Keep your echos to yourself please and thank you.

One of my goals to reset when I went west was to be able to separate myself from work. And I did it quite well. A little too well perhaps but it worked. When I say a little too well it just means I was playing with the idea of removing myself physically from the deli but it was more of a joke than reality.

Could it be done? Probably but then the product begins to suffer when I’m away and once that happens we get what happened to SC. Inconsistencies and drop in sales. This is what I get for putting the “Chad” in chadcuterie. I enjoy working y’all don’t get me wrong but in the balance of things I have a lot of playing to catch up on. I intend to use the rest of my life to balance it. It catch up if you will.

Charcuterie season picks up right about now. Easter is on 4/20 so I sat that little box idea out. I don’t “roll” on Sundays (Lebowski side reference) and I didn’t want to make munchie weed boxes on Easter so it wasn’t meant to be. Anytime I do a themed box I always get those ridiculous LTO shakes in my head. My appetite for over the top food is dwindling along with my testosterone. Sometimes bigger is not better. Right about now I should be knee deep in some foraged mushroom hoagie or soft shell crab soup shit like everyone else. I’m not knocking anyone I’ve been there but some of you are flashing morels like dick pics out here. Put your domes away.

Sorry yall. Lost my passion for food recognition years ago. To each their own.

I wouldn’t mind if I was still rocking in my chair next to a fire in Escalante. One thing I enjoy about these little tourist towns are some the the proprietors ability to combine interests into one concept. I throughly enjoyed getting a dirty chai while shopping for outfitter finds. There was a pizza place that did the same exact thing. Give me something to drink or snack on and I’ll roam your retail for half an hour. It’s rare to find good food in some of these towns. Most places are founded by folk who love the activities of the surrounding area and constructed a business to maintain their hobbies. Some do it well while others shit the bed. It’s a crap shoot.

Pun intended

Also Moab is quite the little epicenter of good food downtown. As is Golden, CO. Had breakfast in Pagosa. Little cafe called two hippies and a van or something like that. Huervos rancheros is my go to. It hit the spot and I always add a pancake on the side because who the hell doesn’t like pancakes. I’ve always said the only way I’d open up another restaurant it would be a diner. Or partner with because you won’t get me on another kitchen line ever again. Cooking = drinking post shift. We’ve done that been there enough folks. I’m on day 1203 without a hangover. I used to count all the days. Now it’s like “oh hey I forgot about you”.

All that means is my sobriety has become my daily habit. *sticks two fingers in the air at vodka”

I made peace with my deli while I was gone. That may sound weird to some of you but if you’ve ever owned your own business you may get it. I was not getting along with the tether my deli came with. Yes I was fully aware of the sacrifice that came with opening it but she came with a few more bumps than I anticipated so we had to reckon with that.

I made another punch list of things to add to her this next month. Always evolving always updating. Nothing dramatic I like to keep things fresh is all. Slowly removing some of the market. Just not working. Not a loss it’s taking up some valuable space I could use for other things. May bring a baker in to add more sweets and such. I cam do cookies and muffins with my free time and that’s about it.

Not sure how many will read this. I’m posting but not on fb I just don’t enjoy it anymore. It’s run it’s course and so have I. We all have so many opinions we feel we have to share on there.

*shrugs

I keep telling myself to write some non fiction to get out of this cathartic dump I get into sometimes. It never was intended until I recognized the benefits but it’s starting to get stale. Like moving furniture around in my head. Need to find my mental feng shui. That’s my current project. I want to dump all of my writing into a ChatGPT so I can get a free therapist. It may work you never know.

I never know how to end these blogs correctly so let’s try one abruptly this time.

Slept 10 hours last night. Can’t remember the last time I did that. I don’t think I budged the whole night. Sometimes on these trips I may hit up to 36 hours without sleep on the way out there or back. 2-3 hour time change screws up your sleeping patterns and you may have some nights when the wind keeps you up or something crunching the ground around your tent (we found some big cat tracks our first night). I rarely worry about apex predators when I camp. Bears tend to leave you alone and if we have big cats here they hide really well. Boars are an interesting option I’ve seen one while hiking. I’d rather run up on a bear than a boar. Plus I camped with a friend of mine so two guns are better than one although I kept reminding Shane to watch his shooting projectary since I was usually right above him.

Next time I want to take a before and after pic of my face when I go camping. I spent a week in dust and dirt, cold winds and hot winds. Took two showers in nine days with the occasional man wipe bath and my skin and face is always clearer when I get back. I’m not saying all mainstream soaps are toxic but my skincare routine is splashing cold water on my face from Nalgene and wiping it dry with a bandana. Also this is a different kind of stress.

It’s intentional. Your body needs this type of thing to make you feel alive.

We spent 6 days in the “outback” of Utah. That lifestyle grabs me around day 3. The first couple of days you’re sort of walking around feeling yourself out. Adjusting to no electricity and keeping your water supply in the back of your mind. I spilled some ramen water on night which meant I could have coffee in the am or clean crockery not both. Can’t have dirty dishes hanging out in the wild so I sacrificed coffee until we hit town later that day. You begin to adapt to your setup, you get your muscle memory working and you modify your habits around your environment. Your mise en place is created and honed. Awning is in the right spot for the afternoon sun, you’ve made the perfect campfire ring of rocks and may even have your close line stretched to dry your soiled bandanas. I often think of the wagons that used to cross these same trails. The mess set ups, campfires and tales told around them. I sometimes think I’m chasing that dream from a previous life. I love the western deserts, the majestic Rockies, the smell of her pines. If life and family weren’t calling my heart back I’d spend my life by those campfires. This was the first trip that I came back wishing for more. It’s a tough lifestyle but man does it feel good to get out of your comfort zone. My Bud Shane seemed to enjoy it which was my other goal to shed some of the joy I get when I do these trips. Miss that guy already. Friendships are worth their weight in gold. I’d encourage grabbing an old friend and going on an adventure. Life’s never too late to live like college roommates for a bit in the wild. You can’t take this away from me. Good memories build good solid mental routines. I keep climbing that feeling.

10/10 recommend

I’m looking forward to getting back to my deli. Big orders have already started rolling in. My two guys took care of business while I was gone and the real runner of the business (Jess) kept the deli smooth. I’m just the charcuterie and face yall. The wife pulls the strings. Resets are always good for my soul. I went two years without a significant time to rest. I said I wouldn’t go that long again but opening a business takes one year of your life. I’m on business number 7. 7 of my 53 years sacrificed for trying new business things.

Spring sprung big while I was away. Everything turned green. You take for granted the beauty and color of this area when you live here. Spend some time in the plains and desert. Hiked 7 miles with almost no shade in Escalante. It was only 85° but dry heat and exposure can sneak up on you. You take sweating for granted here. When we reached that 130 foot waterfall it was like outdoor air conditioning when it’s mist hits your face. We dipped our bandanas in the cold water and tied them around our necks. Just like you see in those old westerns.

I heard a quote last night that made me smile. It’s as shallow as it reads and yet it hit like a stone to my head-

“Stop doing stupid things that make you feel life sucks”

Sound advice

Peace and elbow grease. Come see me yall.

I used to calculate the mileage and days on these trips when I do these little adventures. Miles hiked, bike miles I spun. Loose schedules of towns I wanted to explore or sites I’d never seen. Check off lists and empty out buckets of things I wanted to accomplish. This trip was a tad different. It was intentional for me to go about my business day to day with no itinerary. Schedules weren’t discussed more like observed. Goal was to reach Utah. End goal was to return home in 8-9 days with only scratches and a little dirt on our cheeks. As we drive along hour 4 of 10 hours of straddling Hwy -40 on our way home I’d say we accomplished both of these. I got one small crack on my windshield from an over achieving pebble that dislodged itself from a Mercedes camping vessel that I wandered to close to as we were driving

This trip was to work on a complete reset for me, my habits, rituals, lingering consciousness of same ol same ol. Even when we are striving to accomplishthings that we believe better ourselves through our lives we seem to linger along the fence of safety and subconscious survival tactics that will keep us from straying too far from the persona that we’ve built like Lincoln logs over the years. Traumas, old memories, typical decision making, old excuses follows us everywhere we go.

I’ve made some decent strides recently that have calmed the storms in my life and head but it gets too easy to slide back into old patterns of thinking and reacting like I’ve slipped back into the old me. I’m quick to catch myself when I do but it’s always after the unnecessary action or effort has been produced.

Two steps forward one step back.

And

The other way around

I didn’t plan this trip to change my habits. I didn’t gas up my truck with my intentions of making a statement that advertises “new Chad” is on the way. In fact up until now I haven’t mentioned what this exact reset was for. I needed to physically remove myself from own daily

Habits

Motives

Rituals

Expectations

Comfort zones

Reality

To reckon with why I do certain things before regarding them as habitually habits.

Sort of

I didn’t embark on a 2000 mile one way journey to create new Chad. I didn’t change one single aspect of my daily routines, conversations or subliminal vices. I stayed true to the me that I am. The person I’ve become over 53 years of being.

All I’ve done this week aside from some fun adventuring and resetting was to observe.

Me

I made it a point to sit beside myself this trip and watch me tick. Have you ever done this? Observe yourself from the outside while trying to ignore the inside? It’s almost impossible to maintain that focus. I pushed it along by narrating what I’m doing as if I’m watching Chad from the passenger seat. Walking around with a microphone in my hand and a video camera over my shoulder. Like a week long documentary on why Chad does things. And more importantly why Chad doesn’t do things.

I’ve gone through what I’d sum up as two resets in my life. I thought it was three but through retrospect I’d have to say the last one is just taking its sweet damn time. My first one was a nice little mental breakdown in my mid 30’s when I felt like my life had no meaning or accomplishments. A potpourri of trauma, breakups and going through meaningless motions of life like a still water painting of the ocean tides.

I felt empty

I took it all out on myself. I went rogue, changed my look, my philosophy “wanna change my clothes my hair my face”. That breakdown helped me find myself into being a restauranteur, local popularity and some brief signs of success.

It also pulled me into an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, narcissism and breaking my body down. It put me through that ringer I didn’t want to ring. Pushed my family away and my love for all things. I thought all that time this was a reinvention of myself but all it seemed to do was beat the shit out of me every time I thought things were going well. When I finally collapsed from being a big Greenville wig restaurant guy I didn’t have the want to grow or go through another reinvention. It felt like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.

I felt like turning 50 was a deliberate way to reinvent myself once I kicked that bottle out of my life things did turn for the better and have been staying true to form for the most part. Regardless of what becomes of my day at least I don’t have a self sabotaging headache to remind me that it can still be worse. Or liver or regrets from things I don’t even remember doing. I was making the right moves to keep my checkers on the board.

Checkers, because I suck at chess. Well I’ve never played it to be honest.

I’m a better person than I was 4 years ago. A much better person but that wasn’t enough for me. Or not enough for the person I was trying to become. I’m not looking for perfection in fact you could say quite the opposite. I want to be ok with my imperfections. I want to be ok with being angry. I just need to understand why. I want to be ok with my bitterness. I want to understand why I am. Not the circumstantial route. Much much deeper. The only way for me to get to know my subconscious is to observe it. Thats what I did. The changes will follow suit as long as I stay on that ride. I needed to tear myself away from work, home and family to focus. My perspective needed a new horizon to look upon.

The more I look back on my “first” reinvention I see it more as a long chapter that set up my second one.

Both were fairly dramatic.

When you reinvent yourself you expect new results, new lifestyles new opportunities. That’s why we go through them. Or at least that’s my perspective. It’s been 15 years between the two. The more I analyze them the more they begin to tie together. My 35 year old reset got me out of the corporate mindset of business into being more of an individual. More headstrong in my actions. Stronger Chad, harder Chad. It also put up boundaries to keep me safe. Safe from heartache, trust and dependency on others. The first ten years were building blocks. I got married, started a family, opened up my own place and then some. The crash was hard. Lost my business and my family was right behind it waiting to fail along with it. Summer of 2021 is one I could do without. The in betweens were brutal. When you have it in your head that you’ve figured it all out you put yourself in grave danger when you find out you dont and it all collapses on top of you.

Polarization has always been the spine of my book. It’s a part of life. I linger too long in the dark instead of embracing the light. Both are necessary as long you acknowledge that there’s a solid life living in the middle as well as you can. Same as hot and cold, short or tall, sharp or dull. You can’t have one without the other.

You don’t get angry or upset at the weather when it’s 75°. But you need the 25° and the 125° to help you appreciate the middle. Your comfort zone.

I find myself in inclement weather patterns in my head all the time. I expect it to be 75° and sunny all day everyday. I take it personal if it’s not. Never you mind the fact that sometimes all it just takes a fan or a blanket to make it all ok again.

Also it’s not the end of the world if it should get too cold or if I’m sweating while sitting in the shade. Good weather eventually finds itself near.

Balance

Balance is my quest.

With balance comes

Peace

Peace resides within us

When we find balance.

Blah blah blah soon we will see Chad suntanning his perineum cliffside. Laugh at me. I’ve done it I don’t care.

Anyway

I’m interested to see what 9 days of observing my subconscious will divulge.

Utah is amazing. I’ve been around its block a few times but never stayed to see what she holds. We camped in canyons miles away from traffic lights, laughed over campfires overlooking acres of brush and rocks. I meditated while staring at a majestic rock jutting out of a lake, got misty standing next to a 130 foot canyon waterfall, cooked steaks while watching the sunset. Sipped coffee staring easterly over the Rockies as the sunset warmed our cold bones. Sought out big cats in Moab and decompressed to Prine crooning over a cheap Bluetooth speaker while a campfire kept my shoe soles hot. Weather hit 85° high in Escalante and we got nipply around 30° in a dispersed camp outside of Pagosa. Ate some pancakes at a local diner to warm up. Got to break out all my fun gear toys to play with at all our sites. I may do a small side review of my products used if anyone likes camping gear like I do.

My 9 day roommate is a 6’4” comedian, filled with dad jokes and dead pan humor. It was fun to watch people take him in. He gives off a small town country boy vibe and charm that he does purposefully I think for people to underestimate him. Offering a Starbucks employee an extra $5 spot if she wrote “daddy” on his cup and she did. He pretends to have slow wit. Don’t let him fool you.

We talked about old times and adventures in between long drives. If he had any faults it would be he really enjoys using the bathroom. He has the tendency to snore loudly which kept the apex predators away..

10/10 would do another adventure once his stomach gets better..

Highlights? Too many. Moab was majestic as always. Camping in the middle of nowhere is humbling.

Hanksville was a slight disappointment I wanted to see a certain stone tower and the ground was a tad too soft for my trailer to get out there. The positive side was we got to take a detour through capital reef which was amazing and then ascended 11,000 plus feet up Boulder mountain and then down the canyons that take you to Escalante where I had the best dirty chai of my life. We slept on the Hole in the road trail that extends 60 miles one way and took a trip to Lake Powell. Ate some bbq chicken tacos while we watched the sun bake the big lone rock in the lake. I’m particularly fond of this rock for no reason other than it’s just a cool ass rock in the middle of the lake. Breakfast we ate egg sandwiches with crispy bacon and bagels with cream cheese.

Evenings there were always campfires. As it should be.

Regardless of my adventures and fun I have to say coming back home to my family is always one of my favorite parts. I miss our party of three.

I enjoy bringing a companion along on these trips the drive can be exhausting and brutal. The more I do these trips the less driving I enjoy. I’ve managed to burn out the long hauler in me. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop soon but I was doing up to three of these a year. One big trip a year is sufficient with little trips in between. I still have my eye on Michigan Great Lakes and the Pacific Northwest. That last one will need a big fat airplane. I’m not driving that far unless I’m moving out there.

This was needed and it added some more life badges to my vest. Looking forward to the changes that it will help implement into my future spiritual journey.

Cheers

I leave for Utah in three days. Moab first I think and then it’ll be Hanksville and maybe Escalante. 27 hour drive to Moab from my little home here off of N main. I’ll be constructing a grazing table this Saturday morning and once I’m done we head west. I’ll be taking an old companion of mine who used to transport luggage with me up to all five floors of the Hyatt regency downtown in the early 90s. Life has a fun way building relationships with folk who you hit it off with immediately. Shane is just a good ol soul that makes me smile. We are going to really get to know each other again after 9 days of traveling and reflecting on the old days of flirting with front desk clerks and checking in B list celebrities from the 90s.

I’m extremely excited. It’s been almost 2 years since my last long trip. These can be exhausting. You can notch up almost 5-6k miles in 9 days. Sleeping in cold tents, desert winds and random apex predators sniffing your toes while you sleep. I would love to see a mountain lion. From at least 500 yards away.. pspspsps.

I found a pic online of a rock structure a couple of years ago in Utah and my brain said “we must go see this monument in person”. So away I go.

This is my passion. These are my dreams I chase. My dopamine, my high, my drug. The drive is part of the journey. Sometimes the roadside beauty is just as amazing as the main attractions. I love small town general stores, broken old gas stations and Navajo markets. Real tumbleweeds rolling along Route 66, rest stops surrounded by cacti.

I live for this stuff

I intend to hike, hover in a hammock and one random night I plan to hang and talk to the crows and natives 🍄‍🟫. I’ve done it once before out there. 10/10 recommend.

Shane if you’re reading this you’ll still have to get your own water.

Inside joke

Last time out west it was a tad chilly and snowy. Weather seems to be smiling favorably on us this time around. Fingers will remain crossed until arrival back home. Trailer is packed, truck has received all of its updates. The only city I have to really deal with is Atlanta. Once you get past Birmingham you could ride a skateboard all the way to AZ. No hills were planted in the Midwest. Gives those tornadoes a wide path to do their thing. Once you get outside of Little Rock there’s not too much to see that’s aesthetic to the passerby unless you like giant wind turbines that litter the highways along northern Texas. And maybe a whattaburger if you like mustard on your burger. Gas stations about every thirty miles as opposed to 2. Once you cross over into New Mexico you’ll begin to see random burnt out vehicles roadside I imagine the heat and dry climate plays hell on some old water pumps and engines. Drunk drivers mid day are abundant as well out there. Not much to do in rural New Mexico. Your first clue will be the dozens of redundant billboards dotting along the highways about DUIs. Northern AZ you get a real feel of what poverty can feel like. Old Native American reservations, multiple vehicles perched atop their permanent graves bricks in the front yards, trailers resting on the roadside with tires on the roof to keep the tin from blowing away. Again not much commerce out here unless you’re herding tumbleweeds. If you’re lucky you might have roadside stand within 10 miles of a tourist trap.

I’ve been through Utah three times but I’ve only spent two nights there. One night in Beaver, Utah in a cheap motel with a dried out pool and a breakfast buffet that had no eggs and another time I camped next to a gas station that looked like a flying saucer. Utah has an abundance of public land (for now). There are areas you can pull off the highway and camp as long as the wind doesn’t blow you back on the road. You think the weather gets wild here try driving while minding your own business in the middle of Utah, 95° sunny. Sky opens up and you get 2 inches of hail and the temp drops to 55°. 20 minutes later it’s back to 90° again and the highway is littered with trucks lying on their side. This is why Mormons don’t need caffeine. It gets exciting out there.

National parks will not be my theme. Not saying we won’t see one but my itinerary is back roads unplugged. I want to stay off your world for a few days. The weatherman has not been kind to me for camping here. I need to make peace with this drive. The trip to glacier broke my patience for driving long distance last time. With wrecks, construction and traffic I was delayed an extra 6 hours on an already long drive. Also willing to bet it thunderstormed for around 1000 miles. Kept me on my toes.

Not sure if we’ll push through nonstop I don’t try to be a cowboy I’ll pull over before I start hallucinating but I hope to make it to at least Little Rock before I need a break. If you’re looking for a safe spot to pull over for the evening I’d suggest Cracker Barrel. You won’t feel alone it’s a well known stopover for overlanders. Cracker Barrel’s are for the most part built in safe areas, surrounded by gas stations and commerce. The parking lot is quiet at night and breakfast is waiting on you when you wake up. The only thing missing is a shower. I’ve taken many a sink baths there. Walmart works too but imagine picking a Walmart in Berea as a place to stop for the night.. Hard pass.

Midwest route through I-70 I usually end up around St. Louis area. I prefer not to camp within 50 miles of St. Louis. The further away the better. If you can make it to Kansas then take a nap. It’s an 9 hour drive across Kansas and there’s nothing to keep you awake while you drive. You know that stretch of the I-85 between Spartanburg and Gaffney? Relatively flat, sparse trees? That’s Kansas on a good day for 400 miles. Sprinkle some random thunderstorms and tornadoes and you’re good to go. “Theres no place like home” – go to bed Dorothy you’re drunk. I’m showing my bias here. I’ve driven through Kansas about a dozen times. It just makes you appreciate Colorado more.

If you choose to partake in some legalized medicine in Colorado then I’d suggest not driving south through Texas on your way back. What’s legal in one state is a felony in Texas. The biggest asshole I’ve ever met was a cop in Texas. Not a good combination. I’m not a mule yall just letting you know what’s up.

I’m hoping for some clear skies and good vibes. My itinerary is loose as a goose and it’s intentional. If I saw snow or inclement weather I’d pull further south to AZ. If the whole Midwest went underwater I’d bring my beach towel. I’m just here to find my way.

Looking forward to some western sunsets, campfire coffee and conversations in the twilight. Maybe a med rare ribeye grilled, baked potato baking in the ash, cliff side overlooking Moab. I wouldn’t complain about that.

Gonna be a good trip yall. These are the memories that build you. I’ll try not to find a Grazeland location around Moab but no promises..

Peace and elbow grease.