The exigencies of life have ever had a way of intruding on art.
Today, for example, I had a really fun post in the works. I got a bunch of pictures from my various ski adventures this season, and I was planning a little art of life exposition.
Grammarians will recognize my use of the pluperfect, for all that is long in the past.
Instead of spending a few hours cooking fine cuisine for wealthy and highly appreciative guests — the usual case at the resort where I chef — I find myself having to serve up a cost effective buffet for a gang of miscreants who’ve grossly underpaid; furthermore, we just lost half our staff.
Grrr…
And so I take this brief moment to apologize once again for a non-post. Many people think artists are not able to deal with real life. To the contrary, I think we are generally as tough as they come. We have to be. The universe does not often agree with our dreams.
cost effective buffet for a gang of miscreants
Yes, I guess many artists can find themselves needing to produce work like that to survive. Glad it’s not the usual situation for you.
And at least you didn’t get caught in an avalanche. We lost a couple in Montana this year, as usual.
Well, it turned out to be not so bad. BBQ beef ribs, chicken breast marinated in orange and lemon juice garnished with lemon pepper, broiled and herbed red potatoes, black beans and rice with onions and peppers and a special Tex Mex mix, corn on the cob, mixed California vegetables, ficaccia sliced into strips, and several salads fed 200 people for less than 300 dollars.
And the “miscreants” turned out to be some rather friendly and enthusiastic teenagers. Their reputation as a last chance before hard time reform group turned out to be a wild exaggeration.
However, I will still give the reservations office that booked them for $79.00 each for two and a half days instead of our usual off season rate of $159.00 a day (meals and activities included) a piece of my mind.
Rex,
My father’s father was a professional cook. He cooked for the German military and then the English occupation. I don’t know which masters he preferred. The only memory that I have of his professional career happened much later when he gave an exam for cook apprentices.
I am sure that he would have enjoyed your meal for the teenagers.
I contrast, my mother’s family was less well-fed due to the strength of my mother’s father’s political views. His name was Karl.