A PLEA TO FANCY-PANTS RESTAURANTS

Look, I realize that I'm not a movie star or captain of industry - I'm just a cornshuckin' shitckicker hillbilly from the midwest... but I do, in fact, live here in your oh-so-important Los Angeles and I do, in fact, on occasion find myself eating at one of your upscale 'fancy' restaurants... I have put on a coat and tie so as to look appropriate for your eatery, I have paid your $10 parking fee, I have committed to purchasing your pricey food and drinks... consequently, I feel that I am entitled to certain rights and freedoms... and so I ask - nay - I BEG of you...

PUT SOME DAMNED SALT SHAKERS ON THE TABLE!!!

Leigh and I went out to dinner at this place that's supposed to be a big deal... a French restaurant that requires you to make a reservation several months in advance. To my own surprise, I've actually come to love French food, so I was looking forward to it.

So we sit down, order and await our appetizers when I notice that our table has no salt shakers. This means that I will be eating outrageously expensive food that will probably be tasty but in desperate need of a little more salt please, thank you.

I've encountered this phenomenon before... you see, the theory that these fancy-pants chefs follow is that their recipe is so 'right' that you shouldn't "NEED" to salt it.

There are SO many things wrong with this I simply don't know where to begin...

First of all, the way food tastes is an entirely subjective matter. You see, that's why you have more than one item on the menu to begin with. Not everyone LIKES Beef Marrow with Ox-Tail jam, so you also offer several alternatives. If everyone had the exact same taste buds and if the chef's judgement were so omnipotently flawless, there would be no need for more than one menu item at all.
So, yes, you - in your egotistical splendor - may believe that you put enough salt in the recipe already, but the fact is, you put enough salt in the recipe FOR YOU. NOT FOR ME.
I mean, what if clothing designers decided to make pants in only one size? "I shouldn't have to make other sizes... people should just fit into my designs as they are!" IT'S FASCISM, DAMMIT!

What's even MORE confusing to me is that while there were no salt shakers on the table, but there WERE pepper shakers! So lemme get this straight, Mister Fancy-Pants-Chef... you concede that there are occasions wherein it is conceivable that someone may wish to have pepper and may, consequently, make an individualized choice of just how MUCH pepper they want on their food... you affirm that this possibility exists and you accommodate for it by offering pepper shakers... but NOT WITH SALT?!?! HUH?! WHA-?!?

This is a sore subject with me because every time I eat - any time, any place, practically every day for my 37 years of life - someone feels compelled to comment on my use of salt. "Wow... you sure do use a lot of salt" they say. After hearing it for the eighty seven trillionth time, my inclination to politely chuckle and make some lighthearted joke about high blood pressure has eroded away completely. In the interest of avoiding a major altercation, I resist the urge to reply with something along the lines of "Wow! What an astute observation! How lucky I am to be in the presence of such greatness! I bow to your perceptive prowess! ALL HAIL THE NOTICER OF HOW MUCH SALT I USE!!!"

Over the course of the last few years I have taken great strides to 'eat better.' I eat more green vegetables, I've eliminated fried food, I take my vitamins every day, drink copious amounts of water, I work out, etc. etc. etc. etc.
But I intend to cling to my salt for as long as I can.

So just put the shaker on the table and everyone shut up about it. Thank you. Have a nice day.

WORKING FROM HOME

Through various twists and turns in fate, I have found myself working from home for the last several months - I'll go into more detail about that later, 'cause what I'm working on deserves its own post...
Now, this is not the FIRST time I've been on a hiatus from the day-to-day hustle and bustle of the nine-to-five workaday world, but it never fails to fascinate me how isolation from the 'normal' ebb and flow of society can effect one's demeanor.
Since Leigh still works a regular job, I make a point to try and get some of the errands done like drycleaning, grocery shopping, etc. This gets me out of the house now and then, but there are stretches where I will come to my senses and realize that a week has flown by and I haven't really left the house except to walk the dogs.
Consequently, the other day I had to go drive to the market after one such stretch and sitting in my car, turning the ignition, driving away - it all seemed so ALIEN!
I mean, my brain sorta snapped back into place after a couple of minutes - but that initial stint of xenophobia was trippy. My car's seat felt so COLD! And then, of course, at the market I had to actually INTERACT with people! THAT was even MORE of a shock to my system.
I guess I would liken the whole thing to sitting in a position that makes your leg fall asleep and then standing up and trying to walk on it again... the sensation is weird... not necessarily unpleasant, but extremely odd... and as your leg slowly wakes up you become acutely aware of its presence.
Anyway - that's my observation for the day... I have some chores to do that will force me to make contact with the rest of you humans again.