Unconditional

I can think of no better way to celebrate this day than to speak about respect. Respect,  a deep feeling of admiration based on someone’s qualities and/or abilities. There aren’t many people in my world who have won my respect, but the ones that have are monumental. I often wonder why so many people miss the mark. To me, culture has been defamiliarizing and dismantling traditional family values to the point where society has disrespected the very thing that serves as our primary socialization agent, and center for respect itself, the family; more specifically Motherhood. No wonder; fleeting feelings of any true admiration exist, motherly duties denigrated and parental authority questioned, as families come under fire, and media flaunting the care-free consequent-less loose living and idiotic parenting adds still more fuel. When culturally respect is hatched falsely in popularized idols, and celebrity-ism running rampant. This tidal movement of veneered icons waxing and waning from popularity as quick as it takes to boil an egg, beat and scramble the very strands which attempts to hold us all together, the family. A cultural framework of collapsing foam which is easily supplanted by the next coruscation, social sciences have yet to replace the efficacy of the nuclear family with anything close nor acceptable. It is no wonder we have a hard time gaining any real respect for anyone, or for any prolonged period of time. Yet, there is one entity that throughout time does deserve unwavering respect, Mom.

If one wishes to witness the microcosm of the health of a civilization, one needs look no further than the health and respect given to its mothers, and conversely the capacity towards which a mother is enabled to complete her sacred obligations of progenitor nurturing. Cultural decay and lax moral codes throughout history have lent credence to the falls of powerful civilizations; Babylon, Rome,  Greece, Han Dynasty, The Third Reich, Russia have succumbed from the initialization of de-emphasising traditional family codes, morality, self-control and maternal importance, leading to an infirmed society and its extinction.

You want a great civilization, you need to start of on a great foundation; and that foundation is great families, and the foundation of that is a great mom.

I love eggs. As a Chef I can’t think of a more versatile, essential, cost efficient, complete protein source, delicately durable, ever humbling, litmus test to skill and finesse, food than EGGS. I love ‘em. But my mom...not so much. Growing up I ate dozens a week; fried, sunny side, omelets, poached, frittatas, you name it...I loved it. And unbenounced to me for many a year, my mom hated, I mean HATED cooking them. The sight of a raw egg would turn her stomach. It might have something to do with my grandmother prescribing a diet of raw eggs for my mother at an early age. Yet, there they were, faithfully every day on my breakfast plate, the food I loved, eggs. Never a complaint, never a poor execution; I never knew her dismay only her devotion.

Great comes not in great deeds but in deeds done great. Sure they were just eggs, but how they were accomplished selflessly was greatness incarnate. Analogous to motherhood itself, ironically found in an egg prepared faithfully for a young child. A mom ungrudgingly accepts all these badges attached to her commission, the pains, veins, marks, bites, arguing, eventual separation and an empty nest, and yes, nurturing even when it makes her ill. What does she expect in return? Most often, nothing. What does she deserve in return? Respect. Someone who literally created you and brought you into existence, nurtured you, disciplined you and loved you enough to let you go and be your own being. The cornerstone of the family, the foundation of society, the primary socializer, the one who teaches us of nourishing love, how to honor authority, Moms success incubates acceptable executors of sound moral culture. Of all things that demand respect in our existence, it is this figure. So to all the Mom’s out there, Happy Mother’s day.

With respect,

A son

All we have to fear...

Whether you like it or not, fear drives you. A most basic human emotional instinct, fear can be both an obstacle and road signage as we navigate through life. Some fears are programmed into us and quite naturally elicit a biochemical response, these are fairly universal. These are things that kick in our “fight or flight” instincts. Accompanied by increasing heart rates, sweating and an adrenaline rush, commonly associated with imminent danger, our bodies respond to the call for our immediate attention in a life-threatening situation. Emotional responses are more unnatural in that they are self fabricated; these are individualized and based on our personal biases and experiences. These can be somewhat rational (actually endangering things feared in less-likely arenas, like common fears of snakes or spiders) or irrational (like phobias of which we perceive control over less-likely harms as life threatening, like germs or strangers). Typically, though, the physiological manifestations are the same…increased heart rate, sweating and adrenaline surges. Such stimulation can also lead to certain personality types rushing headlong into fear-filled situations, craving the rush; we call those people adrenaline junkies. Conversely, those with phobias (twisting of the fear response into something negative in and of itself) and anxiety (fear of fear and/or fear of the fear response) all corrupt the natural healthy benefits of fear into a debilitating (if not paralyzing) condition. No matter what you fear and what your relationship with it; heights, dogs, snakes, strangers, spiders, germs, death, most of us have probably been closer to our fears more often than we think, yet never had them actualized until we got close enough to realize the conditions we fear were there. Once let into our world, the reality of their causality brings forth its fruit. So long as we don't know they are there...is there any reason to be afraid?

I must admit, I’m not a naturally fearful person. I’ve been exposed to a lot; been in burning kitchens, minor explosions, had a gun pointed at my face and a knife to my throat...I’ve been in many a near miss with cars, power equipment and forces of nature that put me closer to eternity with my maker than I had ever thought comfortable. I don’t even fear death so much as I fear not doing it well. That being said, there was a time when regardless of my stance on fear, natural instinct kicked in, and one night I came face to face and knew fear, and as you guessed it, it was in the kitchen (kind of).

It was after a long Friday night shift in the Poconos. Part of my closing duties as a young cook was to break down the kitchen and lug out the trash. Accompanied by my friend, Joe the bartender, our trash run was a benchmark moment that denoted a closing-in on the end of the day (and moving on to after hours festivities). We dragged the 50 gallon barrels from the back of the restaurant towards the giant steel dumpster.

About halfway from the door to the bin Joe stopped dead in his tracks, which halted his share of the cargo we were pulling, which stopped me too.

“C’mon...let’s get this done. I wanna go home.” I rebelled.

“Get back inside.” He whispered, his eyes fixed on the dumpster.

“Seriously Joe, I want to get home and get a drink.”

“Now!” He released the cans as he backed quickly towards the rear entrance to the kitchen.

“Phhhwahhh.” I blurted in disgust. “I’ll do it myself.” I shouted at him as I re-began jerking the cumbersome load towards its nightly resting place.

Well, that’s when it happened.

As I turned, now but a yard or two from the dumpster, I heard a noise. Not the typical vermin, squirrel or raccoon noise that so frequently enlivened our trips there; those were small isolated rustlings in the huge steel box. No, this was….bigger. This noise wasn’t scurrying about some corner of the dumpster, it filled it. And with that, “KABANG!”, the huge steel lid flipped open like a trebochet, and that which caused its flinging stood.

Now, I’m not sure how close you have ever been to a big bear, but when a bear stands before you with a 50 gallon garbage bag hanging from its jaws, and that beast is so big the bag resembles a preschooler's lunch sack, pretty much anywhere is too close, especially when you're within arms' distance and there’s a bunch of overfilled trash cans in between you and safety.

Fear is good, it’s healthy. Contrary to what FDR said, we need not fear fear, we need to fear dangerous things. But what are they? Things that cause fear and rightfully so. Although fear itself cannot hurt you it does remain a valid trail marker along the way. Letting you know when a dangerous situation presents itself, rational or not. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself? OK FDR, I get where you're coming from now...Don't go through life living in fear. Understand fear and rationally let it into your life to guide you through those situations. So in doing so, you are not controlled by it and get through it maturely. Oh, and by the way, understand what can really be waiting for you and don't be surprised when you meet it face to face.