Pieces of… Chicken
My wife and I went out to dinner last night and one of our dishes was so bad, we sent it back. The so-called pieces of popcorn chicken were so overcooked that they looked like the small rocks I sometimes dig up working in my flower beds. I love writing reviews and so — I bought a new URL to start a blog. Yessiree, I’m ready to tell you all about the texture of the BBQ sauce on the nachos …
That makes complete and total sense, right?
Truthfully, dinner was horrible, and I couldn’t wait to write a new Yelp review (I’ve yet to start) which served as a reminder that I’ve had a yen to write lately. The world is crazier than ever, and I’m angry, sad, and scared about it. Maybe TV anchorman Howard Beale from the 1976 Oscar-winning film, “Network,” was onto something when he stuck his head out a window and yelled, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.” Of course, as a fictional TV anchor, Beale had a megaphone that average Joes, or Howards, couldn’t have back then. Time sure has changed because here I am, megaphone in hand. Howplanet.com is out, PiecesofHoward.com is in. It has a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?
The thing I do not want is to do is put my personal opinions on social media. I long since left Facebook, resulting from both their privacy indiscretions and the negativity on the platform. I just wanted to see the pics of you and your family, not to have my feed be held hostage to your flights of fancy, whether political, animal, or mineral, or the endless memes, slights, and more. Nor do I want to turn my Instagram account into a FB lookalike using memes on my story to tell you how I feel. That said — I do reserve the right to promote my pieces on my Instagram, but it’s up to you whether you come here. I guess if you’re here, you like me, you really like me.
More than my dinner, I want to talk about how sad I felt at Hairspray last week, and how it felt both dated and prescient for the world today. I want to talk about poet Amanda Gorman and her amazing poem written for Joe Biden’s inauguration — removed from a Florida elementary school after a parent complained it would “cause confusion and indoctrinate students.” The mom attributed the poem to Oprah Winfrey, so I guess there is some confusion but…
At some point, I’ll want to talk about the grief of losing my dad last year and losing my job this year. It won’t be all sad and dark cuz for sure I’ll want to talk about how much fun I’ve had not working. Do I really need to work? Maybe that will lead to my thoughts on being a good manager, or the soul searching about doing what makes me truly happy and how to get there. I want to tell you about the deep, nuanced conversations I’ve had with friends whose beliefs differ from my own and how they still give me hope that civil discourse is possible. I’ll try to mix some Buc’ees conversation in just to keep things light. This isn’t a work blog so expect imperfection … typos, misspellings, the occasional missing word — and even the Harvard comma! I can’t turn to my friends Dylan or Danielle for a quick proofread like I used to.
Last night was definitely not a “winner, winner, chicken dinner” but it did give me something to chew on. I hope you’ll see this as a tasty destination.
