Getting personal

I sometimes forget what this is all about. The site title and many posts would ostensibly indicate that this was a blog about social media. Indeed that’s exactly what it was for a number of years. But times and sensibilities have changed, opinions evolved. I moved on. Despite knowing this, and ...

I can related. I’m at the point I want to create satellite sites for my tech & food interests so I don’t worry about mixing personal and those subjects others would find interesting but could care less about my personal notes.

Where there’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I will be there.

There were a lot of bad things about the restaurant business I do not miss, but seeing the work that Chef Andrés is doing with the hundreds of professional and home cooks in Puerto Rico is heart warming if such a thing can exist in a tragic situation.

The response from Washington has been pathetic. I’m happy to say both my Senators have been vocal about the continued need for more federal response. The fact that less than 20% of the island is still without power is criminal.

The thought of doing a gofundme for a flight to PR has crossed my mind more than once, and I may look at the options if things don’t break my way this week. Plenty of people want to do something, but can see on the news getting supplies and money isn’t the real problem. Sponsoring someone to be on the ground might be a way to help. We’ll see. If this interests you, let me know.

Until then, read more about what Chef Andrés and the World Central Kitchen are doing right now in PR and call your representatives to demand more action.

“How we were able to go from 100 meals to a million meals,” he added. The secret, Andrés noted, was the chef community, the many volunteers who picked up a knife and got to it. A chef’s disposition, Andrés said, is to know how to adapt to crisis.

“We are survivors,” he said. “We never wanted to be here for so long . . . But circumstances invited us to be part of it.”

Then Andrés remembered a favorite quote from literature, taken from a John Steinbeck novel: “Where there’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I will be there,” he said.

viaWashington Post

Mental Health & Me

October 2015, I knew it was time to do something. I found a Dr through a friend that would take patients without insurance and allow to pay cash. I spoke with him, told him about previously being diagnosed with anxiety, and was ready to do something.

He prescribed citolopram. I started taking it. It was a pretty rough time personally, but I stuck with it. I was also heavily drinking. Daily. Starting in the morning most days. I was also running a kitchen working 60-70 hours a week, not counting time at home researching dishes, doing paperwork.

Then, around January 2016, I discovered Chef’s with Issues. I started reading the stories. This was me I thought. I’m a food professional who has hidden and self medicated with drugs and alcohol for my entire adult life.

I quit drinking. I spoke to my Dr and upped the meds.

And I started the hard, difficult path of learning how to be myself—sober, anxious and afraid. It’s been almost 2 years. What people don’t tell you when you quit drinking is that your problems don’t go away. Things don’t miraculously get better. If anything, it’s harder. You have to find your strength somewhere that doesn’t involve a bar stool, whiskey bottle or corner of a sandwich bag. People around you expect you to be magically “healed.” It’s fucking hard.

The road still looks long, I’ve left the cooking game, mostly because I think I’ve burned all the bridges a person can possibly burn. I’m trying to make a go at it doing stuff on the web, and that’s a whole new source of anxiety.

But it’s also the best thing I’ve ever done.

If you need someone to talk to, ask questions of, or someone to just yell at, find me. I’ll listen.