And all those promises....not to mention the slurs.
Someone hacked my email.....and maybe deleted all that work.
A country store, hidden in the mountains 25 miles from the Carmel coast. Home of A Moveable Feast caterers, local organic foods since 1976.....Brendan and Michael Jones...a restaurant, a pub....and much vicious gossip
Some of us have been working on a REAL fundraiser (beyond Tritips In The Rain in Cachagua and Spaghetti By The River) for Rachel for a while now. It was all set for the Highlands Inn for March. Toby did a killer job with the Big Sur Food and Wine Fest there in November....the only bummer was the absence of Rachel, four days after the accident.
Then, suddenly, the Highlands brass told Auntie Erin that management doubted that we (Erin, Toby, Gina Weston, Molly O'Neal and I) "could pull off an event of this quality in the time frame."
Yeah well, fuck you sideways. Which of Rachel's friends hangs at the Highlands anyway? (Well, except to sneak into the hot tubs after hours....)
We were meeting at The Rio when we got the news, and were grumbling about those fucking corporate douche bags.
Tony Tollner overheard our bitching: "Why don't you do it here? I'll give you the Rio for a night, no problem."
One of the many reasons to love Tony and The Rio......
I always tell people that the word "restaurant" comes from the verb "to restore". We used to be a solace and shelter back in the day, and an important part of not just commerce, but society and communication.
Some places still are.
Hats off to Tony!
Sunday, April 10, 5:30-8pm. Rio Grill. Great wineries, tba but all our local favorities. Great foodies, tba....but think Mundaka, Cachagua, Tim Wood, Tree Bones, etc. All the Photo Mafia are coming together for the auction.....As much fun as you can have with your clothes on....
People actually call our recent holiday by this name. Really.
Missed MLK Day by an hour.
Just two thoughts....
Dr. King was involved in the Memphis garbage workers strike against the advice of every single friend and advisor he had: "Martin...it is too dangerous. Martin....you need to focus on the Poor People's March....Martin: it is a tempest in a teacup. Martin: it is garbage workers....."
Against all advice Dr. King made at least three appearances in Memphis...even with clear death threats against him.
The garbage strike was all about getting better wages and working conditions for the mostly black garbage workers. Duh. Well, turns out that there were lots of folk involved in the Memphis garbage detail: drivers, pick-up men, unloaders, etc, etc.
The drivers were all white. The pick-up guys were all black. In 1968 the pick-up guys made the Federal minimum wage: $1.68 an hour. Somewhere around $250 a month, less taxes.
I know this, because I also made this wage at the time....as a white guy working in restaurants in Upstate New York. Of course, I had no wife, kids or rent.....
The other deal was I was not in Memphis. It rains a ton in Tennessee. When it rains and you are a garbage pick up guy....you have a visceral understanding that a pint is a pound....the world around. A fifty gallon garbage can left in a Memphis rainstorm quickly becomes a living, seething nightmare that takes two strong men to shift, much less lift.
And in between....work rules had the white guys (two of them) snug, warm and dry in the cab of the truck. The "niggers" did all the hard labor....and had to hang on to the outside of the truck between stops. For about $13 for an eight hour day.
The way hard work works....the workers figure out ways to game the system. The only game available to the black pick-up guys in Memphis was to hid in the bed of the garbage truck between stops...out of the rain. A little peace during the thirteen bucks a day.....standing in filth and garbage was marginally more comfortable than getting rained on.
Well, one day...the knucklehead crackers driving the garbage truck in the dry and cozy cab...flipped on the crush switch between stops. Knowingly or un-knowingly....who is to tell? Two African-American workers were crushed to death in the back of a garbage truck. Families, children, etc....
They got nothing from the City of Memphis....from the trash company, from anyone.
Martin was both moved and offended. The story of the Samaritan rang true and clear for him, and he refused to turn away from it....even at the expense of his own life. Every single one of his friends and advisers told him to stay away from Memphis....but he refused to turn away from such obvious abuse and heartlessness.
If you listen to his last speech....I promise the hairs will rise on the back of your neck.
I really don't think they make people like this anymore.....
That was #1
Number 2 favorite quote from Martin Luther King....
"Life is just a series of shattered dreams......."
That doesn't get much play....
I have a dream.......