Thank God No One Reads This.....
No lack of material, that is for sure.....Put it down to an over concern for doing real research and getting everything right.....while running two businesses in the midst of a depression.
Actually....I don't call what we are experiencing a Depression. We had one of those back in the day. This is also not a Recession.....we have had a ton of them. I did some research and realized that I either started a business, got married, bought a house, or had a kid...... smack in the middle of each of them in the last 30 years.....and never noticed.
Well, no one ever called me sensitive....and my economic skills are legendary.
I didn't notice recessions like George Bush didn't notice the Vietnam War.....for many of the same reasons......rich Daddy excepted.
I call what we are in now "The Great Dis Pear". Sort of like Despair, but not quite. There is a probably racist, sexist, homophobic and/or classist shrink joke about a therapist inviting all his patients to a Halloween Party, and encouraging them to come dressed as the most important emotion in their lives.
There is naturally the chick all dressed in white.....Hope. The guy in the Redskins jersey....Anger. The Raiders guy all in black.....Depression.
Finally, the shrink's sole poor, gay, black patient arrives stark naked, with a pear stuck on the end of his dick. No one can figure out what emotion he is, not even the shrink.
"Ain't it obvious? I be Fucking Dis Pear!"
A year ago, I wrote somewhat incautiously about our Afghanistan policy, and our COIN (COunter INsurgency) crew that had finally surfaced in the military after years of bureaucratic struggle under Bush and his predecessors. We had inside info on the back room dealings, and even a copy of the full report on Afghanistan......before Obama! Luckily no one noticed.....and none of my peeps got fired.
Who are my peeps?
Eighty years ago in Monterey the place was full of starving artists...full of ideas, creativity, skill and potential....and very short of appreciation, cash and social stimulii. Restaurant guys like Gallitin Powers, the folks who ran the taco joint across the street, and all the other gin joint and food guys wound up with tons of art that is now priceless.
This has been going on for centuries. I am told that one way you can tell a real Modigliani is if it has his hashish bill totted up on the back of the canvas......the man sang for his supper, or at least his bong hits.
New Millenium Monterey has its share of artists....but it is knee deep in highly skilled military (ours and many others) and State Department folk who fall into many of the same categories as the artists did back in the 20's and 30's. Sadly for us restaurant guys.....you cannot put gossip and inside information up on the wall, and your grandkids can't sell it for the price of a house sixty years hence.
Anyway.....there is terrible, brave, momentous, bitter, depressing stuff going on that my grandkids will not be able to put on their walls....if if even have grandkids, and if those possible grandkids even have walls to live among.
And, of course....no one is telling you about it.
But....in the words of John Sebastian......
"But, I will!......"
As soon as I get done fucking this pear.......