I first started running almost 20 years ago. I was dissatisfied with condition I was in and wanted to lose weight. Because of the poor shape I was in results came pretty quickly, pounds started melting away, and tone in all my muscles was improving. Because the improvement was so noticeable and because I wanted to keep that improvement going, I made major changes to my diet.
It's funny how running got into my blood, how it soon became something I not only wanted to do but was something I needed to do. The more I ran the more I wanted to run.
Signing up for my first marathon less than a year after beginning running came about quite by accident. A friend that I worked with had heard about my running and we decided to do a 10k together. I had only been running for about a month but already knew 6.2 miles would be like a walk in the park. A severely sprained ankle twisted on an early morning run stepping down from a curb just days before the race prevented us from running that 10k race.
Being the troopers, and novices, that we were, we looked for a race a little further down the road, so to speak. The next race we found in Pittsburgh was the 1993 Pittsburgh Marathon just 8 months later. John and I registered for that.
Training went well for a couple of newbies who had no real idea what they were getting themselves into, but the race itself was much more difficult than we had ever expected. We managed to struggle to finish though, doing more walking than running for the last 6 miles and crossed the finish line in 4 hours, 22 minutes and 4 seconds.
If I wasn't hooked on running before this moment, I certainly was now. The feeling of satisfaction, of accomplishment, of pure elation was more than anything I have ever experienced before and I knew I would want that feeling again.
I ran 3 more marathons over the next 2 years along with numerous other half marathons, 10k's and 5k's.
I ran consistantly after that for the next 7 years or so, but after my divorce and my move to Beaver in 1999, the running slowed quite a bit. I started partying more and although I never completely quit running I went from doing a steady 45 to 60 miles a week to running only a couple days a week if at all.
I gained weight, my blood pressure went up, my cholesterol levels rose and I was even put on meds to regulate those health problems. I moved to florida in 2007 and I've made numerous feeble attempts at fitness in that time but honestly I've done more serious drinking than I have serious running.
I am finding now though that the desire to get back into better physical condition has returned and I'm training hard again to make it happen.
Looking back on the reasons I started running 20 years ago and contemplating why I'm doing it again at this point in my life, I find there's more to it then just seeking a better fitness level. It really stems from the sadness and emptiness I feel inside myself.
In hindsight, when I started 20 years ago I was running from myself and the lifestyle that I was living. Oh, I was trying hard to be a good Dad, and was faking trying to be a good husband, but what I was really doing was taking drugs, drinking, and was a cheating husband. Although this all made me feel like some kind of macho stud, deep down I knew it was all wrong and I knew I was hurting both my children and the sweetest woman I've ever met in my life.
At that time I was actually running away from myself.
Now the situation is similar. The outward reason of course is that I want to get fit again, sure. But once again I'm running out of my inner sadness. I'm running because this time the love of my life has left me and I'm trying to come to terms with that. I'm running from the heartache and pain that I'm still feeling even though it happened months ago. I know I should be over it. I know that I should be moving on.
The difference though is, instead of running away from myself, this time I'm running to try and find myself. I'm trying to find the peace of mind I once had. I'm trying to find the satisfaction of being alone yet not lonely. I'm trying to just be comfortable in my own skin again.
I know I will get there and I know running will help. I know that once I can run without constantly thinking about each foot strike, I know that when I can run without struggling to catch my breath, I know that when I can run without my legs aching, I know that when I can run and just let my mind wander free, peace of mind will come.
Back in the day there was nothing I enjoyed more than LSD. No, not acid! Long, Slow, Distance. A 10 mile run once a week was my favorite way to spend a Sunday morning, just cruising along and finding peace within myself. I'm determined to get there again. I have to get there again. I will get there again.
I will be free and I will be content and I will be happy.
LIFE IS GOOD!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
STRESSED!!!!!
Stress will be the death of me. Stress. Stress and worry. Worry will be the death of me. Worry and stress. Ah, what the hell do I know? I'll tell you what I know, I know that stress and worry will be the death of me, that's what I know.
I was never like this before. Well, alright, I did worry about money for most of my life, BUT, I always held down a job, usually two, and sometimes three, if you count the small lawn mowing business my son and I ran for a few years. Quite a profitable little business too, I might add. So it was never really a big worry because I always knew I had the means to make more money if what I was doing at any point was not enough.
When I got laid off from the steel mill back in the early 80's, I collected unemployment, enjoyed spending time at home with the wife and young son, and soon after with the newborn little girl that blessed our lives. Life was really good in spite of not having a job. I went to Pittsburgh Bartending Institute, learned the nuances of being behind a bar, and worked part time bartending while collecting my U.C. checks. I recall a conversation with a mill coworker at the time, Jack Burbage, who was in the same situation as I was. He had said that life seemed so hard. I disagreed entirely and told him I thought life seemed too easy sometimes. That's when I started saying "Life is Good". It's been my mantra ever since. LIFE IS GOOD!
When the unemployment checks were close to running out, through the help of my best friend and the best man at my wedding, Chris, I landed a job at 84 Lumber. It was unlike any job I had held before, but it would pay the bills and held the hope of advancement in the company, so although from the start I didn't like the job, I did what I had to do, for a month!
Fortunately, the mill called me back to work, and I gladly returned, albeit for only one more year before being permanently laid off. I then truly started my bartending career at the Red Bull Inns, and that's kind of when the money worries began to affect me. Working for tips can be stressful. Slow, bad days happen frequently and sometimes unexpectedly. To this day I can never guess whether any given night is going to be busy or slow. Oh sure, New Year's Eve, Mother's Day, St Patty's Day etc. will always be busy. Friday nights will almost always be good nights, but for the most part to try and figure out when you'll be busy and when you won't is in no way an exact science. I have learned through the years though, that it all averages out. No matter where I've worked I've known that I could expect a given amount of tip income at any time of the year. It helped to alleviate some of the stress, but the worry never completely went away.
Looking back, stress started really effecting me upon my move to Florida. From my first nights here, alone in an empty house, I worried about whether it was the right move to make or not. Honestly, I still haven't come to terms with that stress and I often think about moving back to Pennsylvania.
Working at T.J. Carneys was stressful because Mr. Carney is such a drunken asshole. Working for Tom, no one ever knows from one day to the next if the man is going to come in drunk after a bad day of golfing and take out the rage from his unhappy existence on you. I made good money there, but the stress of working for a demon like that, and his gargoyle of a sister in law who runs the kitchen took its toll. Leaving there and getting out from under his control is one decision that I do not regret.
I now find myself stressing about some of the other decisions, most of which I feel have been bad decisions, that I've made since moving here. A failed attempt at buying a house which ended up costing me a few thousand dollars, a failed attempt at starting a lawn business, which again, cost me money, a failed attempt at a marriage to the woman whom I had thought was my soul mate, the one woman of my dreams, and I'm dropping tears on the keyboard right now as I write that line because, after 9 months of her being away I still miss her and wonder if she ever thinks maybe she's made a mistake and wants to come back to try to work things out. I stress the most about if I'll ever get over her having left to go back to Pennsylvania, because although I act like I am over it, in my heart I love her still, and I wonder if I will ever be able to love anyone else that way again, or if I will ever even want too?
I stress about if it was smart to leave Bentley's Resort where I had almost free reign at the Tiki Bar, or did the bad memories there cloud my judgement. I stress over whether or not to stay in the house I'm in. I love the house, but because of the pool, which is a big part of why I love it, the rent and utility bills are higher. Do I move to a smaller place with lower rent and utilities? Do I buy a small mobile home in one of the "estates" and just enjoy the beach and the weather which are the two big reasons I am still here at all.
It just seems now that worry and stress about almost all aspects of my life are the order of the day. Money worries are paramount because I haven't worked for 3 months, and now that I'm starting the new job at the Bonefish Grill, stress about whether or not this position is going to be the final stop of my bartending career, and am I going to enjoy this job as much as I thought I might, is driving me crazy. I want to give myself time to settle in and learn the system but I just have serious doubts. I've done things the same way, the way I was taught was the right way, since becoming the bartender at the Wooden Angel. Alex hasn't been in business since 1968 by settling for half assed employees. I held the bartending job there for 14 years. I thought I knew what I was doing when I started there, but learned so much more under his tutelage and now I'm being told that much of what I've learned through the years is wrong, and I am tempted to say "bullshit". But I'll submit, and try to do things the "Bonefish way".
I worry that I've chosen poorly about a lot of things. Hell, after Bonefish training was over and before I started my first shift on Wednesday, I got a call from SCAT, That's the Sarasota County Transit Authority. I had applied there months ago for a transit bus driving position. They wanted me to come in for a customer relations test the next day. I told them I couldn't make it because it was going to be my first day as a Bonefish bartender, The girl laughed and said the Bonefish was her favorite restaurant. She said she'd hold my application until next month, then call back to see if I wanted to take the test in January. Now I worry that I missed the opportunity to land a real job with full benefits! Will the reasons to stress never stop??
Writing these blogs, and in particular this post in this blog, has proven to be therapeutic. I don't know if all my stresses will be alleviated, but I've gotten them off of my chest and feel like I can breathe a little anyway.
I always thought that life was supposed to get easier as one grew older. I look back now and I think maybe Jack was was right, maybe life is hard. Maybe when I was younger, if I'd have worked smarter instead of harder, things would be easier now, but I didn't work smart, and I refuse to think about that too much, it'd just lead to more stress!
So instead, I'll keep saying Life is Good, I'll keep pretending that I don't miss my wife, but I won't go watch the sunset alone. I'll keep going into the Bonefish, smiling and pretending to be happy everyday, with the hope that I'll begin to love working there, but I'll keep my eyes and ears open for other options that may present themselves. I'll keep looking around for a more affordable place to live and if the Bonefish doesn't provide ample income, I'll move, or if need be, I'll find another job or jobs that will provide me with the income that will give me the lifestyle that I want to live
Most importantly, I'll keep doing the other things that I really do love, the things that I don't have to pretend about. I'll keep going to the gym, working to get fit again so that I can run that race with my son and daughter. I'm gonna get there Joey and Jenna, you better be ready for me! Those two are reason enough for me to keep smiling and enjoy life.
I'll keep pedaling my bicycle to the beach, doing yoga, running through the park and on the beach. I'll enjoy the sound and the smell of the surf, the warm breeze blowing through the air on a December day, and the crisp cool Florida winter nights. I'll keep taking those short little jaunts on my Harley that give me a true feeling of freedom, and I will grin and I will say, LIFE IS GOOD! And most of all, I will mean it.
I was never like this before. Well, alright, I did worry about money for most of my life, BUT, I always held down a job, usually two, and sometimes three, if you count the small lawn mowing business my son and I ran for a few years. Quite a profitable little business too, I might add. So it was never really a big worry because I always knew I had the means to make more money if what I was doing at any point was not enough.
When I got laid off from the steel mill back in the early 80's, I collected unemployment, enjoyed spending time at home with the wife and young son, and soon after with the newborn little girl that blessed our lives. Life was really good in spite of not having a job. I went to Pittsburgh Bartending Institute, learned the nuances of being behind a bar, and worked part time bartending while collecting my U.C. checks. I recall a conversation with a mill coworker at the time, Jack Burbage, who was in the same situation as I was. He had said that life seemed so hard. I disagreed entirely and told him I thought life seemed too easy sometimes. That's when I started saying "Life is Good". It's been my mantra ever since. LIFE IS GOOD!
When the unemployment checks were close to running out, through the help of my best friend and the best man at my wedding, Chris, I landed a job at 84 Lumber. It was unlike any job I had held before, but it would pay the bills and held the hope of advancement in the company, so although from the start I didn't like the job, I did what I had to do, for a month!
Fortunately, the mill called me back to work, and I gladly returned, albeit for only one more year before being permanently laid off. I then truly started my bartending career at the Red Bull Inns, and that's kind of when the money worries began to affect me. Working for tips can be stressful. Slow, bad days happen frequently and sometimes unexpectedly. To this day I can never guess whether any given night is going to be busy or slow. Oh sure, New Year's Eve, Mother's Day, St Patty's Day etc. will always be busy. Friday nights will almost always be good nights, but for the most part to try and figure out when you'll be busy and when you won't is in no way an exact science. I have learned through the years though, that it all averages out. No matter where I've worked I've known that I could expect a given amount of tip income at any time of the year. It helped to alleviate some of the stress, but the worry never completely went away.
Looking back, stress started really effecting me upon my move to Florida. From my first nights here, alone in an empty house, I worried about whether it was the right move to make or not. Honestly, I still haven't come to terms with that stress and I often think about moving back to Pennsylvania.
Working at T.J. Carneys was stressful because Mr. Carney is such a drunken asshole. Working for Tom, no one ever knows from one day to the next if the man is going to come in drunk after a bad day of golfing and take out the rage from his unhappy existence on you. I made good money there, but the stress of working for a demon like that, and his gargoyle of a sister in law who runs the kitchen took its toll. Leaving there and getting out from under his control is one decision that I do not regret.
I now find myself stressing about some of the other decisions, most of which I feel have been bad decisions, that I've made since moving here. A failed attempt at buying a house which ended up costing me a few thousand dollars, a failed attempt at starting a lawn business, which again, cost me money, a failed attempt at a marriage to the woman whom I had thought was my soul mate, the one woman of my dreams, and I'm dropping tears on the keyboard right now as I write that line because, after 9 months of her being away I still miss her and wonder if she ever thinks maybe she's made a mistake and wants to come back to try to work things out. I stress the most about if I'll ever get over her having left to go back to Pennsylvania, because although I act like I am over it, in my heart I love her still, and I wonder if I will ever be able to love anyone else that way again, or if I will ever even want too?
I stress about if it was smart to leave Bentley's Resort where I had almost free reign at the Tiki Bar, or did the bad memories there cloud my judgement. I stress over whether or not to stay in the house I'm in. I love the house, but because of the pool, which is a big part of why I love it, the rent and utility bills are higher. Do I move to a smaller place with lower rent and utilities? Do I buy a small mobile home in one of the "estates" and just enjoy the beach and the weather which are the two big reasons I am still here at all.
It just seems now that worry and stress about almost all aspects of my life are the order of the day. Money worries are paramount because I haven't worked for 3 months, and now that I'm starting the new job at the Bonefish Grill, stress about whether or not this position is going to be the final stop of my bartending career, and am I going to enjoy this job as much as I thought I might, is driving me crazy. I want to give myself time to settle in and learn the system but I just have serious doubts. I've done things the same way, the way I was taught was the right way, since becoming the bartender at the Wooden Angel. Alex hasn't been in business since 1968 by settling for half assed employees. I held the bartending job there for 14 years. I thought I knew what I was doing when I started there, but learned so much more under his tutelage and now I'm being told that much of what I've learned through the years is wrong, and I am tempted to say "bullshit". But I'll submit, and try to do things the "Bonefish way".
I worry that I've chosen poorly about a lot of things. Hell, after Bonefish training was over and before I started my first shift on Wednesday, I got a call from SCAT, That's the Sarasota County Transit Authority. I had applied there months ago for a transit bus driving position. They wanted me to come in for a customer relations test the next day. I told them I couldn't make it because it was going to be my first day as a Bonefish bartender, The girl laughed and said the Bonefish was her favorite restaurant. She said she'd hold my application until next month, then call back to see if I wanted to take the test in January. Now I worry that I missed the opportunity to land a real job with full benefits! Will the reasons to stress never stop??
Writing these blogs, and in particular this post in this blog, has proven to be therapeutic. I don't know if all my stresses will be alleviated, but I've gotten them off of my chest and feel like I can breathe a little anyway.
I always thought that life was supposed to get easier as one grew older. I look back now and I think maybe Jack was was right, maybe life is hard. Maybe when I was younger, if I'd have worked smarter instead of harder, things would be easier now, but I didn't work smart, and I refuse to think about that too much, it'd just lead to more stress!
So instead, I'll keep saying Life is Good, I'll keep pretending that I don't miss my wife, but I won't go watch the sunset alone. I'll keep going into the Bonefish, smiling and pretending to be happy everyday, with the hope that I'll begin to love working there, but I'll keep my eyes and ears open for other options that may present themselves. I'll keep looking around for a more affordable place to live and if the Bonefish doesn't provide ample income, I'll move, or if need be, I'll find another job or jobs that will provide me with the income that will give me the lifestyle that I want to live
Most importantly, I'll keep doing the other things that I really do love, the things that I don't have to pretend about. I'll keep going to the gym, working to get fit again so that I can run that race with my son and daughter. I'm gonna get there Joey and Jenna, you better be ready for me! Those two are reason enough for me to keep smiling and enjoy life.
I'll keep pedaling my bicycle to the beach, doing yoga, running through the park and on the beach. I'll enjoy the sound and the smell of the surf, the warm breeze blowing through the air on a December day, and the crisp cool Florida winter nights. I'll keep taking those short little jaunts on my Harley that give me a true feeling of freedom, and I will grin and I will say, LIFE IS GOOD! And most of all, I will mean it.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Hell Week Continues
Where's Jaye? Already they're dropping out. I actually breezed through the retest, and Billy the server trainer tells me I did a great job of recovering. I even managed to do well and pass the fish and sauce test. I'm feeling a little better, but we still have tests on Grilled Specialty's and Sauteed and Baked to look forward too.
Luckily on this day, because of the volume of information on the food menu, 'Chelle, the bar trainer goes easy on us. No bar test today. Instead we get behind the bar and begin the process of learning how things are done the "Bonefish way". Juices squeezed fresh for each drink, infusions made for the specialty cocktails, sangria's made to order according to Bonefish recipes.
I'm beginning to understand why, at the start of class on the first day they had told us they really prefer to start with bartenders who had minimal experience behind bars. It is easier to teach someone with a clean slate, rather than try to erase old practices that have become embedded in our nature. I find that, more than once this week I have wanted to stop and call "BULLSHIT"! I'm shaking this drink WRONG was the one comment that almost had me walking out the door! I've been shaking drinks this way my whole career, learned it a long time ago, was reinforced with it by Alex (the owner of the Wooden Angel for those of you who don't know) when he gave a short discourse on why you shake this way. How can I possibly change my style now? But I bit my lip, kept my mouth shut, and shook up and down like they wanted, you know, the "Bonefish Way".
Classes begin every day at 1 o'clock and we stay there in the restaurant until 11pm. There is usually one short break in the middle, and living close by, I run home for a quick bite to eat.
When I get home at night I study until about 2am, get some sleep, then wake up at 8 to study some more. I tend to believe the old saying that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, because that's how I feel. Maybe I had forgotten how to study after all these years, or maybe my brain is just filled with too much useless trivial bullshit, but I find the information that I am trying to absorb is just all kind of balling together and blending in my head. Maybe I'm over analyzing everything, or maybe I'm just so anxious, nervous and that I am losing confidence in myself. I seem to be doubting everything I'm doing.
I do manage to stay caught up with the food tests through the rest of the week. On Wednesday night we have a staff tasting of every item on the menu and I can honestly say that everything is delicious. So many wonderful sauces and flavors and presented in such a pleasing manner. It's going to be a joy to serve these dishes to my guests knowing that it is all fresh, top quality food.
Thursday goes well, I pass all of the food tests, and it being the first of two "family and friends" nights I get to go into the restaurant to eat. No family here unfortunately, so I ask Sam and Karen to join me. Again, everything is delicious. Sam and I each get a cup of Corn and Crab Chowder, we all share the Edamame appetizer, and I have a Caesar Salad. For entree's, Karen orders the Maryland Crab Cakes, Sam, the Ahi Tuna "Tokyo Style" and I get the Diablo Shrimp Fettucini. Every dish is well presented and tastes fantastic.
Dinner over, and with a few cocktails under my belt, I go back to hitting the books. I haven't really studied the drinks very much because I was too busy working on the food. Once more my confidence is at a low point. Again, things are all blending together in my head. First thing Friday, 'Chelle gives out the drink tests and I stare blankly at the paper. Over a dozen core martini's, along with three sangria's, a half dozen core cocktails and four $5 all day every day cocktails, most of them different from any I had ever made before, and some of them are similar, but different from what I was used to making.
I decide to skip over the core menu and jump right into the sixty or so other drinks that are on the test. These are pretty much the cocktails, old and new, that I had been used to making in the past and I zip through these recipes with confidence.
Unfortunately I've taken up too much time and 'Chelle says, ok, ten minutes! I flip back to the first pages of core drinks and begin to scribble furiously, trying to sift through what I remember studying the night before, and I fill out almost all the recipes. But I am, again, not confident.
By the end of the day on Friday I am given the bad news. I failed the core drink portion of the drink menu and will need to retest on Saturday. I, along with 4 of the other bartenders have to come in early to retake, and, if we expect to be Bonefish bartenders, we have to get 100% on this test!
I get home at 11:30 that night, and try to get to sleep right away thinking that I can study in the morning as I'm too exhausted to try it now, but sleep doesn't come so I break open the book and start reading. I make flash cards, I go over them again and again. Finally, I can't take anymore and at 2 am, I close my eyes.
When I wake up at 8 the next morning, I start again, and doubt fills my head. My head is spinning like a top and I can't stop worrying about what happens if I fail? I try as hard as I can to concentrate but I have to keep getting up and walking around the house in circles to try to clear my mind.
At one I go into the restaurant and the first thing I do is tell 'Chelle, "I have no excuses, and I have no explanation, but I really don't think I'm going to pass this test! When I fail, can I retake it again Monday, and even Tuesday if I have too? I'm not scheduled to work until Wednesday" She tells me to settle down and relax, that she has confidence I will pass it this time.
I sit down with the test, palms sweating, knees shaking, but, low and behold the information just flows. It's almost as if my hand has a mind of its own and the pen doesn't stop writing until all of the questions are answered. It seems all of the information has been retained after all!
I pass the test, we prep for a great "Charity Night" where the YMCA has 180 guests coming in for a cocktail party and to sample all the foods much as the staff had done on Wednesday. There are 10 bartenders left of the 13 that started training. The five of us that had to retake the drink test served as food runners and wine servers while the ones that passed the test on the first try got to go behind the bar for the night.
It was a lot of fun and for the first time all week I relaxed and enjoyed myself. Amanda, our other bar trainer, told me that I did a great job of describing all the dishes I was presenting to my guests. At the end of the night, I'm beat from all the running back and forth from the kitchen, but it's a good tired and I feel the need to celebrate. Walmart and a bottle of Meritage is right up the road, one of the nice things about living in Florida!!
Now though, with most of the training over and showtime about to begin, I'm nervous about my first shift behind the bar this Wednesday. Will I retain all that information? How long will it take before I remember the bar setup and can just grab bottles automatically knowing instinctively where everything is? Can I keep from being nervous with the trainers looking over my shoulder every shift I work for the next week?
I suppose I made it through "Hell Week" so the rest should be downhill. I just can't wait until I'm comfortable enough behind my new bar to relax, have fun and enjoy my work again. Then I'll truly be a "Bonefish Bartender"
Luckily on this day, because of the volume of information on the food menu, 'Chelle, the bar trainer goes easy on us. No bar test today. Instead we get behind the bar and begin the process of learning how things are done the "Bonefish way". Juices squeezed fresh for each drink, infusions made for the specialty cocktails, sangria's made to order according to Bonefish recipes.
I'm beginning to understand why, at the start of class on the first day they had told us they really prefer to start with bartenders who had minimal experience behind bars. It is easier to teach someone with a clean slate, rather than try to erase old practices that have become embedded in our nature. I find that, more than once this week I have wanted to stop and call "BULLSHIT"! I'm shaking this drink WRONG was the one comment that almost had me walking out the door! I've been shaking drinks this way my whole career, learned it a long time ago, was reinforced with it by Alex (the owner of the Wooden Angel for those of you who don't know) when he gave a short discourse on why you shake this way. How can I possibly change my style now? But I bit my lip, kept my mouth shut, and shook up and down like they wanted, you know, the "Bonefish Way".
Classes begin every day at 1 o'clock and we stay there in the restaurant until 11pm. There is usually one short break in the middle, and living close by, I run home for a quick bite to eat.
When I get home at night I study until about 2am, get some sleep, then wake up at 8 to study some more. I tend to believe the old saying that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, because that's how I feel. Maybe I had forgotten how to study after all these years, or maybe my brain is just filled with too much useless trivial bullshit, but I find the information that I am trying to absorb is just all kind of balling together and blending in my head. Maybe I'm over analyzing everything, or maybe I'm just so anxious, nervous and that I am losing confidence in myself. I seem to be doubting everything I'm doing.
I do manage to stay caught up with the food tests through the rest of the week. On Wednesday night we have a staff tasting of every item on the menu and I can honestly say that everything is delicious. So many wonderful sauces and flavors and presented in such a pleasing manner. It's going to be a joy to serve these dishes to my guests knowing that it is all fresh, top quality food.
Thursday goes well, I pass all of the food tests, and it being the first of two "family and friends" nights I get to go into the restaurant to eat. No family here unfortunately, so I ask Sam and Karen to join me. Again, everything is delicious. Sam and I each get a cup of Corn and Crab Chowder, we all share the Edamame appetizer, and I have a Caesar Salad. For entree's, Karen orders the Maryland Crab Cakes, Sam, the Ahi Tuna "Tokyo Style" and I get the Diablo Shrimp Fettucini. Every dish is well presented and tastes fantastic.
Dinner over, and with a few cocktails under my belt, I go back to hitting the books. I haven't really studied the drinks very much because I was too busy working on the food. Once more my confidence is at a low point. Again, things are all blending together in my head. First thing Friday, 'Chelle gives out the drink tests and I stare blankly at the paper. Over a dozen core martini's, along with three sangria's, a half dozen core cocktails and four $5 all day every day cocktails, most of them different from any I had ever made before, and some of them are similar, but different from what I was used to making.
I decide to skip over the core menu and jump right into the sixty or so other drinks that are on the test. These are pretty much the cocktails, old and new, that I had been used to making in the past and I zip through these recipes with confidence.
Unfortunately I've taken up too much time and 'Chelle says, ok, ten minutes! I flip back to the first pages of core drinks and begin to scribble furiously, trying to sift through what I remember studying the night before, and I fill out almost all the recipes. But I am, again, not confident.
By the end of the day on Friday I am given the bad news. I failed the core drink portion of the drink menu and will need to retest on Saturday. I, along with 4 of the other bartenders have to come in early to retake, and, if we expect to be Bonefish bartenders, we have to get 100% on this test!
I get home at 11:30 that night, and try to get to sleep right away thinking that I can study in the morning as I'm too exhausted to try it now, but sleep doesn't come so I break open the book and start reading. I make flash cards, I go over them again and again. Finally, I can't take anymore and at 2 am, I close my eyes.
When I wake up at 8 the next morning, I start again, and doubt fills my head. My head is spinning like a top and I can't stop worrying about what happens if I fail? I try as hard as I can to concentrate but I have to keep getting up and walking around the house in circles to try to clear my mind.
At one I go into the restaurant and the first thing I do is tell 'Chelle, "I have no excuses, and I have no explanation, but I really don't think I'm going to pass this test! When I fail, can I retake it again Monday, and even Tuesday if I have too? I'm not scheduled to work until Wednesday" She tells me to settle down and relax, that she has confidence I will pass it this time.
I sit down with the test, palms sweating, knees shaking, but, low and behold the information just flows. It's almost as if my hand has a mind of its own and the pen doesn't stop writing until all of the questions are answered. It seems all of the information has been retained after all!
I pass the test, we prep for a great "Charity Night" where the YMCA has 180 guests coming in for a cocktail party and to sample all the foods much as the staff had done on Wednesday. There are 10 bartenders left of the 13 that started training. The five of us that had to retake the drink test served as food runners and wine servers while the ones that passed the test on the first try got to go behind the bar for the night.
It was a lot of fun and for the first time all week I relaxed and enjoyed myself. Amanda, our other bar trainer, told me that I did a great job of describing all the dishes I was presenting to my guests. At the end of the night, I'm beat from all the running back and forth from the kitchen, but it's a good tired and I feel the need to celebrate. Walmart and a bottle of Meritage is right up the road, one of the nice things about living in Florida!!
Now though, with most of the training over and showtime about to begin, I'm nervous about my first shift behind the bar this Wednesday. Will I retain all that information? How long will it take before I remember the bar setup and can just grab bottles automatically knowing instinctively where everything is? Can I keep from being nervous with the trainers looking over my shoulder every shift I work for the next week?
I suppose I made it through "Hell Week" so the rest should be downhill. I just can't wait until I'm comfortable enough behind my new bar to relax, have fun and enjoy my work again. Then I'll truly be a "Bonefish Bartender"
Monday, December 12, 2011
Bonefish Bartending
I have been bartending, with only a short break in 1991-1992, since 1983. Count 'em, that's about 28 years of full-time bartending experience. I thought I knew almost everything there was to know, and a few things I'm sure I've since forgotten, about this career, and make no mistake, as I had in the early 90's, it truly is a career. That gap in the 90's occurred because, as a married man, with two young children, I believed that I should stop fulling around behind bars, and get a REAL job. Moving behind a cubicle after attending Pittsburgh Technical Institute for Drafting and Design proved to me that it was much more important to ENJOY the work you to do, rather than do something you thought would make you more money and was a "real" career.
Anyway, with all the knowledge and experience I have, when Bonefish Grill called me about my application, I went into the interview supremely confident that I would be the ace of their staff. Not to sound like a cocky prick, but I mix the best drinks, I know how to handle customers who may have over imbibed, and I carry on a good conversation, minus religion and politics of course!
I coasted throught the interview process with Don, who initially will be the new Bonefish Kitchen Manager, and was passed on to Chris, who will be running the front of the house for the first few weeks. The young gentlemen loved me, hired me after the second interview and informed me that I was the first new hire at the new Bonefish Grill. See that, my confidence was not unfounded.
On the Sunday afternoon before training began I was given two training manuals, one, every person in the front of the house receives, the "Bonefish Server Training Manual", the second, of course was the "Bonefish Bartender Training Manual". I was also told that the first thing upon walking into class Monday morning there would be a test. Having been hired to be a bartender I assumed that my first test would be about tending bar so I went home, threw the manuals down on the coffee table, put my feet up and turned on the football games. Talk about making an "ASS out of U and ME!!"
Surprise, surprise, when I went into class that first day, they handed out a test concerning all the appetizers, "hand helds" and desserts that are on the Bonefish menu. We had to know not only each item, but every ingredient that made up each dish. I was fuckin' baffled. I hadn't even looked at the menu! I guessed my way through as much as I could, but was completely embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. Not only that, but when we were through with the server part of training, the bartenders branched off and were given a test on the Bonefish drink menu. Again, I was dumbfounded. All the Bonefish "core" Martini's and cocktails are recipes developed in house and we have to know all ingredients, garnishes, glassware and procedure for making each drink. Luckily, there is no grading on the cocktail menu, yet, but I'm still wondering what the hell have I gotten myself into?
Jaye, the young fellow sitting next to me apparently had prepared as well as I had. He does nothing but bitch about the volume of information that we are expected to absorb in such a short time. After class I go home, and I am now behind the 8 ball. Not only do I have to retest on Tuesday the food test that I failed on Monday, but I have the test on all the Grilled Fish and Signature Sauces that are unique to the Bonefish.
My confidence is shattered and I am concerned that I will be not be able to keep up with all the other new hires, of which I am certainly the oldest! I know that I have to get caught up on the food portion of the testing first. Even though the drinks are none that I've ever seen before, I feel that they'll come easier than all the food items.
Anyway, with all the knowledge and experience I have, when Bonefish Grill called me about my application, I went into the interview supremely confident that I would be the ace of their staff. Not to sound like a cocky prick, but I mix the best drinks, I know how to handle customers who may have over imbibed, and I carry on a good conversation, minus religion and politics of course!
I coasted throught the interview process with Don, who initially will be the new Bonefish Kitchen Manager, and was passed on to Chris, who will be running the front of the house for the first few weeks. The young gentlemen loved me, hired me after the second interview and informed me that I was the first new hire at the new Bonefish Grill. See that, my confidence was not unfounded.
On the Sunday afternoon before training began I was given two training manuals, one, every person in the front of the house receives, the "Bonefish Server Training Manual", the second, of course was the "Bonefish Bartender Training Manual". I was also told that the first thing upon walking into class Monday morning there would be a test. Having been hired to be a bartender I assumed that my first test would be about tending bar so I went home, threw the manuals down on the coffee table, put my feet up and turned on the football games. Talk about making an "ASS out of U and ME!!"
Surprise, surprise, when I went into class that first day, they handed out a test concerning all the appetizers, "hand helds" and desserts that are on the Bonefish menu. We had to know not only each item, but every ingredient that made up each dish. I was fuckin' baffled. I hadn't even looked at the menu! I guessed my way through as much as I could, but was completely embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. Not only that, but when we were through with the server part of training, the bartenders branched off and were given a test on the Bonefish drink menu. Again, I was dumbfounded. All the Bonefish "core" Martini's and cocktails are recipes developed in house and we have to know all ingredients, garnishes, glassware and procedure for making each drink. Luckily, there is no grading on the cocktail menu, yet, but I'm still wondering what the hell have I gotten myself into?
Jaye, the young fellow sitting next to me apparently had prepared as well as I had. He does nothing but bitch about the volume of information that we are expected to absorb in such a short time. After class I go home, and I am now behind the 8 ball. Not only do I have to retest on Tuesday the food test that I failed on Monday, but I have the test on all the Grilled Fish and Signature Sauces that are unique to the Bonefish.
My confidence is shattered and I am concerned that I will be not be able to keep up with all the other new hires, of which I am certainly the oldest! I know that I have to get caught up on the food portion of the testing first. Even though the drinks are none that I've ever seen before, I feel that they'll come easier than all the food items.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Swimming with the Dolphins
It was on our third trip to St. Croix when I had what would be the most fantastic underwater experience of my life. We had just gotten back to the Cottages by the Sea after doing two boat dives that morning. The second dive had been to one of my favorite dive sites, "Armageddon". It is the area where they dumped the remains of the old Frederiksted Pier after Hurricane Hugo destroyed it in 1989. It is similar to, but a little safer than, doing a wreck dive, although it does take some skill to maneuver through the wreckage.
At one point I was doing a swim through down into an old piece of cement drain pipe approximately 8 feet long and lying at a 45 degree angle. I could see that there was more rubble as I reached the end of the tube, and just as I was nearing the exit a large Green Moray Eel popped his rather scary looking face out from the twisted steel that lay in front of me. Moray's constantly open and close their mouths to take in water in order to breathe, but at this close range, with nowhere for me to go, it looks to me like Mr. Moray is very hungry and he seems quite menacing. I'm not the best swimmer when on the surface, but underwater I like to think I've become very capable and keep myself compact while slowly cruising through the water so as not to disturb the reefs and corals that we examine. At this point though, not disturbing anything was the last thing I was concerned with. I couldn't back pedal fast enough to get out of that tube! When it comes to fight or flight, run like hell, or in this case it's swim like hell to get away from the perceived danger. I must have looked like a gold fish out of his bowl trying to back up out of that narrow cylinder. Obviously the moray could have cared less about me because he just drifted back into the wreckage.
As a footnote, Green Moray's are actually brown but have a yellow tinted mucus that uniformly covers their body giving them that green look!
Upon returning to the Cottage, Sylvia, who has never liked to shop, decided on this day to go into town to pick up some souvenirs for the girls back home. Between breathing through a regulator for a few hours and taking Dramamine to eliminate the seasickness that plagues me, I usually need a nap after morning dives, but I think the Moray experience left me a little invigorated, so I decided to take the kayak out onto the beautiful water that lies just steps from our cottages front porch. I paddled around for a short time, but soon realized I'd rather be in the water than on it so I paddled back to shore and grabbed my snorkel gear.
Swimming in this pristine warm blue water is just an amazing experience. The salt water keeps you more buoyant than fresh water making swimming almost effortless, the depth, even 100 yards off shore is only about 20 feet, and visibility is easily 100 feet or more so you can see everything around you.
I was about one hundred feet out from and swimming parallel to the shore, free diving to the bottom to pick up sand dollars laying on the bottom. In between dives I just drifted along, catching my breath, slowly kicking and keeping my eyes on the bottom in search of more treasures. Then, in my peripheral vision off to my right, about midway between myself and the shore, a huge grey flash goes streaking past me, and I'll admit, my first thought was SHARK!!! and I almost pooped my swim suit!!
It only took a second to gather my senses and realize that the swim motion I had seen wasn't the side to side movement of a sharks body, but instead the up and down movement of a dolphin. I stopped kicking and lifted my head out of the water and saw not one but two fins breaking through the water no more than twenty five feet in front of me, but swimming away from me.
I started swimming as fast as I could to catch up, while in the back of my mind I knew I could never swim as fast as a dolphin. I picked my head up out of the water every few seconds to watch their progress, but they just kept on going, getting further ahead every time I glanced up.
They had now gotten about 100 feet in front of me and I was about to give up my pursuit when it happened. One of the dolphins had turned around and was headed back in my direction! I swam a little further and there she was, stopped right in front of me. For the second time I almost pooped in my swim suit.
I picked my head out of the water to see if the second dolphin had stopped too, but didn't see it. I was still in sight of the Cottage so I also looked to see if perhaps Sylvia had returned from her shopping trip because I knew this was a sight she would love to see. There were others on the shore watching what was happening, but unfortunately, no Sylvia.
I returned my gaze to the dolphin right in front of me, I swear I could have reached out and touched her, but I know that this is a wild creature, not like the dolphins in captivity who are used to contact with humans, so instead I just kept a steady gaze on this wonderous animal that was gracing me with her presence.
She was actually vertical in the water, with her nose snooping around a large coral head rooted on the bottom. Knowing that the depth here is about 15 feet, and judging by the distance between her tailfin and the surface of the water I guess her to be at least 10 feet in length, and she seems oblivious to my presence, concentrating instead on the coral head she is probing with her nose.
My heart is racing and I'm gasping for breath through my snorkel I am so excited. I lift my head out of the water again in hopes of seeing Sylvia, but again, no luck. When I once again return my face to the water, the dolphin is still at it, and it actually seems like she is getting angry. She is still verticle in the water and constantly circling the coral head, butting at it with her nose.
Then, as if this vision in front of me is not fantastic enough, I see the second dolphin returning from the distance! He swims right up to the larger dolphin and actually stops, watching what she is doing. My guess is that it is the baby of the first dolphin in that it is only half her size. They are now both right in front of me at not much more than arms length away. She is still furiously prodding the coral head when the smaller dolphin notices me beside his mother.
Up until this point, they had both been directly in front of me but upon seeing me he swims around her and swims in a circle around me. I follow his motions, watching him the whole time. He turns his little white belly towards me and I can see his eyes. We actually make eye contact, staring directly into one anothers eyes, he is looking right into my eyes! I am so moved I actually begin to cry, I can't believe how incredible this experience feels.
He swims back over near mom, and she is now in a rage. I cannot understand what is so intriguing about this coral head that she would be banging her head against it so furiously. She head butts it so hard that she actually breaks it loose from the bottom of the sea, and then I see what she has been concentrating so hard on. A flounder scoots out from under the coral head, swims about 4 feet away, and tries to hide itself flat on the sea floor. Mama dolphin is not to be denied though, she has seen it and rushes in its direction. The flounder flashes up from the bottom but just as quickly Mama dolphin snatches him out of the water and with just a few chomps the flounder is gone. I am thankful that I didn't try to pet her when she was preoccupied at the coral head because during those couple of chomps while she was eating the flounder I could see a very full set of what looked like very sharp teeth in her mouth.
As soon is momma is done with her lunch, without giving me a second thought, she swims off in the direction they had been heading in the first place. If I were to embellish this tale, even just a little, I would say that the smaller dolphin turned to look at me again, and waved goodbye with his small pectoral fins before swimming along with mama, but honestly, from my point of view, this story needs no embellishment whatsoever. Other than the birth of my two children, nothing that has ever happened to me has moved me as much, actually bringing me to tears.
I swam back to the the cottage and actually paced back and forth from the front porch to the parking lot, waiting for Sylvia to get back. The excitement just enveloped me. She returned just a few minutes later and before I could even say anything she asked what was wrong!! She could see how wound up I was. I actually said to her, please don't be upset, because I know she has always wanted to have an experience such as this.
She was thrilled for me, but at the same time, mad at herself for picking this day to do one of her least favorite things. I hope her girls enjoyed the souvenirs!
At one point I was doing a swim through down into an old piece of cement drain pipe approximately 8 feet long and lying at a 45 degree angle. I could see that there was more rubble as I reached the end of the tube, and just as I was nearing the exit a large Green Moray Eel popped his rather scary looking face out from the twisted steel that lay in front of me. Moray's constantly open and close their mouths to take in water in order to breathe, but at this close range, with nowhere for me to go, it looks to me like Mr. Moray is very hungry and he seems quite menacing. I'm not the best swimmer when on the surface, but underwater I like to think I've become very capable and keep myself compact while slowly cruising through the water so as not to disturb the reefs and corals that we examine. At this point though, not disturbing anything was the last thing I was concerned with. I couldn't back pedal fast enough to get out of that tube! When it comes to fight or flight, run like hell, or in this case it's swim like hell to get away from the perceived danger. I must have looked like a gold fish out of his bowl trying to back up out of that narrow cylinder. Obviously the moray could have cared less about me because he just drifted back into the wreckage.
As a footnote, Green Moray's are actually brown but have a yellow tinted mucus that uniformly covers their body giving them that green look!
Upon returning to the Cottage, Sylvia, who has never liked to shop, decided on this day to go into town to pick up some souvenirs for the girls back home. Between breathing through a regulator for a few hours and taking Dramamine to eliminate the seasickness that plagues me, I usually need a nap after morning dives, but I think the Moray experience left me a little invigorated, so I decided to take the kayak out onto the beautiful water that lies just steps from our cottages front porch. I paddled around for a short time, but soon realized I'd rather be in the water than on it so I paddled back to shore and grabbed my snorkel gear.
Swimming in this pristine warm blue water is just an amazing experience. The salt water keeps you more buoyant than fresh water making swimming almost effortless, the depth, even 100 yards off shore is only about 20 feet, and visibility is easily 100 feet or more so you can see everything around you.
I was about one hundred feet out from and swimming parallel to the shore, free diving to the bottom to pick up sand dollars laying on the bottom. In between dives I just drifted along, catching my breath, slowly kicking and keeping my eyes on the bottom in search of more treasures. Then, in my peripheral vision off to my right, about midway between myself and the shore, a huge grey flash goes streaking past me, and I'll admit, my first thought was SHARK!!! and I almost pooped my swim suit!!
It only took a second to gather my senses and realize that the swim motion I had seen wasn't the side to side movement of a sharks body, but instead the up and down movement of a dolphin. I stopped kicking and lifted my head out of the water and saw not one but two fins breaking through the water no more than twenty five feet in front of me, but swimming away from me.
I started swimming as fast as I could to catch up, while in the back of my mind I knew I could never swim as fast as a dolphin. I picked my head up out of the water every few seconds to watch their progress, but they just kept on going, getting further ahead every time I glanced up.
They had now gotten about 100 feet in front of me and I was about to give up my pursuit when it happened. One of the dolphins had turned around and was headed back in my direction! I swam a little further and there she was, stopped right in front of me. For the second time I almost pooped in my swim suit.
I picked my head out of the water to see if the second dolphin had stopped too, but didn't see it. I was still in sight of the Cottage so I also looked to see if perhaps Sylvia had returned from her shopping trip because I knew this was a sight she would love to see. There were others on the shore watching what was happening, but unfortunately, no Sylvia.
I returned my gaze to the dolphin right in front of me, I swear I could have reached out and touched her, but I know that this is a wild creature, not like the dolphins in captivity who are used to contact with humans, so instead I just kept a steady gaze on this wonderous animal that was gracing me with her presence.
She was actually vertical in the water, with her nose snooping around a large coral head rooted on the bottom. Knowing that the depth here is about 15 feet, and judging by the distance between her tailfin and the surface of the water I guess her to be at least 10 feet in length, and she seems oblivious to my presence, concentrating instead on the coral head she is probing with her nose.
My heart is racing and I'm gasping for breath through my snorkel I am so excited. I lift my head out of the water again in hopes of seeing Sylvia, but again, no luck. When I once again return my face to the water, the dolphin is still at it, and it actually seems like she is getting angry. She is still verticle in the water and constantly circling the coral head, butting at it with her nose.
Then, as if this vision in front of me is not fantastic enough, I see the second dolphin returning from the distance! He swims right up to the larger dolphin and actually stops, watching what she is doing. My guess is that it is the baby of the first dolphin in that it is only half her size. They are now both right in front of me at not much more than arms length away. She is still furiously prodding the coral head when the smaller dolphin notices me beside his mother.
Up until this point, they had both been directly in front of me but upon seeing me he swims around her and swims in a circle around me. I follow his motions, watching him the whole time. He turns his little white belly towards me and I can see his eyes. We actually make eye contact, staring directly into one anothers eyes, he is looking right into my eyes! I am so moved I actually begin to cry, I can't believe how incredible this experience feels.
He swims back over near mom, and she is now in a rage. I cannot understand what is so intriguing about this coral head that she would be banging her head against it so furiously. She head butts it so hard that she actually breaks it loose from the bottom of the sea, and then I see what she has been concentrating so hard on. A flounder scoots out from under the coral head, swims about 4 feet away, and tries to hide itself flat on the sea floor. Mama dolphin is not to be denied though, she has seen it and rushes in its direction. The flounder flashes up from the bottom but just as quickly Mama dolphin snatches him out of the water and with just a few chomps the flounder is gone. I am thankful that I didn't try to pet her when she was preoccupied at the coral head because during those couple of chomps while she was eating the flounder I could see a very full set of what looked like very sharp teeth in her mouth.
As soon is momma is done with her lunch, without giving me a second thought, she swims off in the direction they had been heading in the first place. If I were to embellish this tale, even just a little, I would say that the smaller dolphin turned to look at me again, and waved goodbye with his small pectoral fins before swimming along with mama, but honestly, from my point of view, this story needs no embellishment whatsoever. Other than the birth of my two children, nothing that has ever happened to me has moved me as much, actually bringing me to tears.
I swam back to the the cottage and actually paced back and forth from the front porch to the parking lot, waiting for Sylvia to get back. The excitement just enveloped me. She returned just a few minutes later and before I could even say anything she asked what was wrong!! She could see how wound up I was. I actually said to her, please don't be upset, because I know she has always wanted to have an experience such as this.
She was thrilled for me, but at the same time, mad at herself for picking this day to do one of her least favorite things. I hope her girls enjoyed the souvenirs!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
How I got here...
I moved to Florida just a little over four years ago. It was one of the biggest, most spontaneous manuevers I had ever made. I thank my daughter for planting the idea. It was right around Memorial Day of 2007. She had just graduated from Pitt and I was helping her get settled in her new apartment in Dallas, Texas. We were celebrating the beginning of her new life after college when she brought up the idea of moving.
"Dad, I've heard stories that you wanted to move to Florida years ago, before you started working in the mill, met Mom, got married and had kids". "Yea Sweetheart, that's true, at 20 years old, I and a friend had made plans. We had $100.00 in our pockets between us and I had a beat up old Volkswagon, and we were on our way to Ft Lauderdale. When I told Grandma, she flipped out, and she and Grandpa sat me down and talked, what they thought, was some "sense" into me, and convinced me to start working in the mill instead, to make some money before I started on such an adventure, and the rest is history"
"Well Dad, Joey and I are both out of school, you and Mom are divorced, and you and Sylvia both love the beach, so why not move now?" Bells rang, lights flashed, and the realization hit me that she was right. Being a bartender I could easily find a job anywhere, and I certainly was not looking forward at all to returning to driving the school bus the following September, so I started an online search for places to live in Florida.
I got on www.findyourspot.com and filled out their questionnaire. Melbourne, Florida on the east coast just below Cape Canaveral was at the top of the list of my "best spots". I visited there the week of July 4th. The only thing I really liked about Melbourne was the Carrabba's Italian Grill next to the hotel. I had never been to one of their restaurants before, but was hooked. I ate my dinner there every night of that visit.
Other than that, I was not impressed with the east coast at all. Although I was intrigued by the changes being made at Patrick Air Force Bases base housing. This huge housing area was right on the west side of A1A, right across the highway was beach access, and they were converting this housing from strictly service personnel into duplexes that could be rented or bought by the public. I toured a few of them and actually got on the list to rent one if I decided to move to Melbourne. At the time, a two bedroom duplex with garage was going for $700.00 a month, a real bargain compared to other rentals that I looked at around the area.
But big hotels and condos lined the whole eastern side of A1A, and stores, shopping centers and bars lined most of the west side. It was much too commercial and busy for my tastes. I was looking for something more laid back, and Melbourne, although certainly no Miami Beach, or Ft. Lauderdale, was still too hectic.
Back home I went and continued the online search. Bradenton and further south, Port Charlotte, Florida showed up in the top ten of my best places. I was not at all in a hurry to fly back to Florida at this point, so I kept looking online at rentals up and down the area between the two towns. I happened upon a house for rent at www.homeandcondo.com, a website for a rental agency in Venice, Florida, a little further south than the midpoint between Bradenton and Port Charlotte.
I was excited the minute I saw the house and took a mapquest and google earth look at the area. A reasonably priced two bedroom house with a garage, gotta have the garage for my motorcycle, only 3/4 mile from Venice Beach on the Gulf of Mexico, now THIS was something I had to take a closer look at.
I booked my flight to Tampa that day, and was on my way to Florida again at the beginning of August. I drove from Tampa to Venice, and once getting off of 95, I could see the the Gulf Coast was different, less busy, more laid back. It was more the type of Florida living that I was looking for.
I crossed the Venice Avenue Bridge onto "the island" and almost immediately I felt like I was home! I can't explain the excitement I was feeling, shops, restaurants, and parks lined both sides of the street. It was like driving through Beaver, Pa, only with palm tree lined streets instead of Maples and Oaks. I immediately drove to the house, less than a mile from this main street, and it was just perfect! From there I drove to the beach, less than 3/4 mile from the house, and I knew without doubt that this was where I wanted to move.
The Home and Condo office is right across the street from the beach. I went in, talked to the rental manager, told her I wanted to rent the house at 336 Pensacola Road and would be back on September 1st to take occupancy. I signed the lease, paid first and last months rent and a security deposit, and left that office with a sense of excitement that was just unbelievable.
That's just about the whole story of how I ended up in Venice. I flew back home, packed my apartment into a U-Pack truck, drove my truck to D.C. and took it to Florida on the AutoTrain, flew back to Pa. Rode my Harley to D.C. and got it to Florida the same way. A week later, after I must say, more than a few lonely, even scary nights, sitting alone in a completely empty house, wondering if I was doing the right thing, the trailer arrived with my stuff. By the following week I was all moved in and ready to really start this new adventure....
...to be continued!!!
"Dad, I've heard stories that you wanted to move to Florida years ago, before you started working in the mill, met Mom, got married and had kids". "Yea Sweetheart, that's true, at 20 years old, I and a friend had made plans. We had $100.00 in our pockets between us and I had a beat up old Volkswagon, and we were on our way to Ft Lauderdale. When I told Grandma, she flipped out, and she and Grandpa sat me down and talked, what they thought, was some "sense" into me, and convinced me to start working in the mill instead, to make some money before I started on such an adventure, and the rest is history"
"Well Dad, Joey and I are both out of school, you and Mom are divorced, and you and Sylvia both love the beach, so why not move now?" Bells rang, lights flashed, and the realization hit me that she was right. Being a bartender I could easily find a job anywhere, and I certainly was not looking forward at all to returning to driving the school bus the following September, so I started an online search for places to live in Florida.
I got on www.findyourspot.com and filled out their questionnaire. Melbourne, Florida on the east coast just below Cape Canaveral was at the top of the list of my "best spots". I visited there the week of July 4th. The only thing I really liked about Melbourne was the Carrabba's Italian Grill next to the hotel. I had never been to one of their restaurants before, but was hooked. I ate my dinner there every night of that visit.
Other than that, I was not impressed with the east coast at all. Although I was intrigued by the changes being made at Patrick Air Force Bases base housing. This huge housing area was right on the west side of A1A, right across the highway was beach access, and they were converting this housing from strictly service personnel into duplexes that could be rented or bought by the public. I toured a few of them and actually got on the list to rent one if I decided to move to Melbourne. At the time, a two bedroom duplex with garage was going for $700.00 a month, a real bargain compared to other rentals that I looked at around the area.
But big hotels and condos lined the whole eastern side of A1A, and stores, shopping centers and bars lined most of the west side. It was much too commercial and busy for my tastes. I was looking for something more laid back, and Melbourne, although certainly no Miami Beach, or Ft. Lauderdale, was still too hectic.
Back home I went and continued the online search. Bradenton and further south, Port Charlotte, Florida showed up in the top ten of my best places. I was not at all in a hurry to fly back to Florida at this point, so I kept looking online at rentals up and down the area between the two towns. I happened upon a house for rent at www.homeandcondo.com, a website for a rental agency in Venice, Florida, a little further south than the midpoint between Bradenton and Port Charlotte.
I was excited the minute I saw the house and took a mapquest and google earth look at the area. A reasonably priced two bedroom house with a garage, gotta have the garage for my motorcycle, only 3/4 mile from Venice Beach on the Gulf of Mexico, now THIS was something I had to take a closer look at.
I booked my flight to Tampa that day, and was on my way to Florida again at the beginning of August. I drove from Tampa to Venice, and once getting off of 95, I could see the the Gulf Coast was different, less busy, more laid back. It was more the type of Florida living that I was looking for.
I crossed the Venice Avenue Bridge onto "the island" and almost immediately I felt like I was home! I can't explain the excitement I was feeling, shops, restaurants, and parks lined both sides of the street. It was like driving through Beaver, Pa, only with palm tree lined streets instead of Maples and Oaks. I immediately drove to the house, less than a mile from this main street, and it was just perfect! From there I drove to the beach, less than 3/4 mile from the house, and I knew without doubt that this was where I wanted to move.
The Home and Condo office is right across the street from the beach. I went in, talked to the rental manager, told her I wanted to rent the house at 336 Pensacola Road and would be back on September 1st to take occupancy. I signed the lease, paid first and last months rent and a security deposit, and left that office with a sense of excitement that was just unbelievable.
That's just about the whole story of how I ended up in Venice. I flew back home, packed my apartment into a U-Pack truck, drove my truck to D.C. and took it to Florida on the AutoTrain, flew back to Pa. Rode my Harley to D.C. and got it to Florida the same way. A week later, after I must say, more than a few lonely, even scary nights, sitting alone in a completely empty house, wondering if I was doing the right thing, the trailer arrived with my stuff. By the following week I was all moved in and ready to really start this new adventure....
...to be continued!!!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Why I'm starting this new blog.
I have a lot of idle time on my hands lately. I left Bentley's Resort Tiki Bar on August 21st. I didn't expect to be out of work for as long as I have, and I was beginning to get a little nervous because I have never been without a job since starting work when I was a teenager, but things have turned out alright. I started working at Mattison's Forty-One in Sarasota on October 24th, but it only took me about a week to realize that this wasn't going to be what I had hoped it would be. Luckily the Bonefish Grill that is being built in Venice just over a mile from my house called me for an interview. I talked with the G.M. on Tuesday the 25th, then the FOH manager on the 26th. They hired on the spot. They told me I was the first hire at the new location! It kinda gave me a good, warm fuzzy feeling inside!
The next day I told the G.M. at Mattison's that I would work until Thanksgiving, (he already knew I had a vacation planned for that weekend) but that I would then be leaving to start at the Bonefish in the beginning of Dec. I told him I would understand if he didn't want to put me on the schedule and would want to start training someone else to get ready for the upcoming season instead. He said he would think about that. I worked three rather unproductive days last week, and this week I was not put on the schedule, much to my delight.
So that's where I stand right now, unemployed until the Bonefish opens, tentative date Dec. 12th. But I am now actually enjoying the free time I have. I don't feel nervous about not working because I am confident that the Bonefish is going to be a very fun and profitable place to work, close to home and with great hours. (they don't open for lunch, and they close no later than midnight.
So, with all this free time, and feeling much less anxiety about being out of work, I have decided to post random thoughts that pass through my aging, seemingly unchallenged mind, and to ask for feedback on those thoughts, opinions, insights, and otherwise nonsensical rants that I post here. I ask anyone and everyone I know, or anyone and everyone who should stumble across this blog to reply. You don't have to agree, as a matter of fact that would be boring, I'd much rather read some disagreements. That would make this much more interesting.
In addition, I am hoping to get back on track with the "My Life Behind Bars" blog that I started way back when. I haven't posted anything to it in over a year. I got to a point where I was afraid I might start offending people. I think now though, that my thoughts and opinions about ANYTHING should not cause others to be offended. I will just tell things as I remember them, as I believed them to be, and I'll hope that nothing I write will be construed as being hurtful, it will be just my take on my own life.
The next day I told the G.M. at Mattison's that I would work until Thanksgiving, (he already knew I had a vacation planned for that weekend) but that I would then be leaving to start at the Bonefish in the beginning of Dec. I told him I would understand if he didn't want to put me on the schedule and would want to start training someone else to get ready for the upcoming season instead. He said he would think about that. I worked three rather unproductive days last week, and this week I was not put on the schedule, much to my delight.
So that's where I stand right now, unemployed until the Bonefish opens, tentative date Dec. 12th. But I am now actually enjoying the free time I have. I don't feel nervous about not working because I am confident that the Bonefish is going to be a very fun and profitable place to work, close to home and with great hours. (they don't open for lunch, and they close no later than midnight.
So, with all this free time, and feeling much less anxiety about being out of work, I have decided to post random thoughts that pass through my aging, seemingly unchallenged mind, and to ask for feedback on those thoughts, opinions, insights, and otherwise nonsensical rants that I post here. I ask anyone and everyone I know, or anyone and everyone who should stumble across this blog to reply. You don't have to agree, as a matter of fact that would be boring, I'd much rather read some disagreements. That would make this much more interesting.
In addition, I am hoping to get back on track with the "My Life Behind Bars" blog that I started way back when. I haven't posted anything to it in over a year. I got to a point where I was afraid I might start offending people. I think now though, that my thoughts and opinions about ANYTHING should not cause others to be offended. I will just tell things as I remember them, as I believed them to be, and I'll hope that nothing I write will be construed as being hurtful, it will be just my take on my own life.
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