Unearned Race Advantage

I believe life is governed by chance. Chances differ from race, religion, gender, family, economics. genetics and health. We are given these differences at birth. Some are permanent, while others have the ability to be changed. Some change their religion, some change their gender. Changes can be made to alter our body image that comes with inherited genes. We also can change the social economic structure we were born into, but that also comes with a lot of challenges. And with modern medicine, we even have the ability to change our health if we were unfortunate to have been passed on a cancer cell through our genetic inheritance, which I was able to personally change. But our race we were born into is not one that we can change.

I see life, as we begin, like a large casino game of roulette, a big game of chance. You are not sure exactly where that little ball will land. Each small pocket has very different categories that make up who we are brought into this world as. Some have better odds than others. And after the dealer spins that wheel and then puts down the marble maker on the space where the ball landed, we are who we are. Oddly enough the color of that ball that determines who we are is white.

When my time came to play, that little ball landed in the pocket that must have been labeled “Unearned Race Advantage”. Born as a white male into a middle to upper-class family in the suburbs of Northern New Jersey came with many advantages. But I have always appreciated the advantages I have been given, humble enough to know I am not better than anyone and wise enough to know that I am different from many. But being both humble and wise enough still does not make me fully understand the struggles, discrimination and prejudices that differences & race plays. Though I feel compassion and empathy, feel the injustice and can support the fight for equality, I am still at an advantage in this world, not only being white, but a male as well.

The advantages of a white male that I get from society becomes louder and louder as I open my eyes and mind more. I notice a lot of times that my world is easier and situations are often taken for granted by many of my race and gender. If I cut my finger, it is easy for me to find a band aid that is the color of my skin. When I bought my home, in a neighborhood I wanted to live in and could afford, I expected my neighbors would accept me and be kind to me. When I walk down the street, and I hear the clicking of the door locking of someone still in their car, I don’t question it is for their safety. If I have an issue at a store and need to address it with a manager, someone of my color ( and usually male) will be the one I talk to. Buying a greeting card at a card shop is easy for me to find one that has people on the card that look like me. If I go to the movies, chances are I will see most of the people in the movie who are my race and color. It is not a problem for me to walk into any barber shop and feel like the person their knows how to cut my hair. If I get pulled over by the police, most of the time the officer will look like me and I have a fair chance to be heard without discrimination.

I completely appreciate what I have and I am aware of the privileges bestowed onto me, that others who I share this world with do not have.

So, how can I go to a protest or rally and chant, carry a sign of intolerance & indifference, risk an arrest of civil disobedience, and represent those who are fighting for their rights and freedoms?  How can this white advantaged male have an honest idea of the struggles and anger that are being fought for?

I often feel like I don’t belong at certain marches, protests & rallies, feeling very white, very male and very privileged. I do not pretend to relate to the issue at hand, nor do I pretend that I have been a victim of the current protest, unless it is an issue that pertains to me directly, but many of the gatherings I attend do not. But that is a loaded issue for me. Do I have people in my life that I love dearly that are black, that are women, that are disabled, that are felt like their rights are not be honored? I absolutely do. They are my family, my daughters, my wife, my friends that I helped raised, my community. So I march for them. I protest for their rights. So their voices can be heard. So they can be respected, so they are free of this white male driven society that makes all the rules.

We are very different people sharing a common place. Though the air we breathe may be the same, the sun that shines on our faces (no matter what color our faces may be) is the same sun and the earth we walk upon is the same planet orbiting around the same universe, we are all treated differently. And often times, way too often, treated with disrespect, unfairness and hated for being different.

V-E-D

V-E-D.

3 simple letters, when put together, mean nothing. But when changed as a part of a word are the most important 3 letters that has ever been part of my life

3 letters V-E-D can make:
      fear into courage
defeat to victory
              weakness into strength
             anxiety to relief

If you remove the V-E from this word and replace it with a D

This new word is one of the most powerful words in my life

It can change HAVE  into HAD

It changed  “I HAVE cancer”  to “I HAD cancer”

3 simple letters, when put together, mean nothing. But when changed as a part of a word are the most important 3 letters that has ever been part of my life

Some Sour Patch & that Pistol Too

Some Sour Patch and that Pistol Too!

There is something very tranquil about the state of Maine. It is a very unique state where you can be on the rocky coast of the ocean then in the clouds high in the mountains in the matter of a short 10 minute drive from one another. The state is filled with some of the friendliest down to earth people I have ever met. I try to get up north as often as I can. I call it a mental break from the crazy fast pace life I live here in New York.

During my most recent trip, my wife and I went to the Belgrade Lake area to visit our daughters at sleep-away camp. We found ourselves arriving too early for visiting time. So we decided to find somewhere to not only fill some time but fill our hunger as well. We stopped at a cute little country deli to get a cheese sandwich. While waiting for our sandwich to be done, the strangest thing caught my eye. Next to the bags of Cape Cod chips, above the Razzles & lollipops, was a large glass wall shelf of various guns, pistols and shot guns. I had to do a double take, here at the corner deli?

So, intrigued, I had to inquire with the girl behind the counter.

“Along with my cheese sandwich and my sour patch kids, can I buy that hand gun in

that case?”

“Sure, which one?” she asked.

“Wait a second, don’t I need a license?”

“No, we will do a file check on you. The owner can do it for you.”

So, let me get this straight. If I have no previous criminal record, it is clear for me to purchase a pistol with amo from the local deli. That seems frightening to me. I mean, what if someone was so angry and pushed to the limit needing to take his/her anger out. They can walk down to the corner sandwich shop and buy a gun. What if that murder that they may be committing IS their first crime. I guess if they commit that crime, they can at least have a delicious sandwich and some sour patch kids while doing it.

My New Dictionary

My New Dictionary

From time to time, Webster adds words into the dictionary. With our vocabulary constantly changing to accommodate our youth and the way we live, there is a need to add more and more words to the good ol’ dictionary.

But there are words and terms already in there, and have been there a long time, but never were relevant to me. That was until I turned 40something and looked into my address book finding more and more names that had “MD” next to them.

Memory Loss

Searching and searching where I put my glasses, and often finding them on my head.Onlyto find them, so that I can find where I misplaced my car keys to my car,that I forgot was getting repaired at the shop.

Memory Loss

Oh, I said that already!

Bifocals

When your Chinese food comes to the table and your fried tofu is a whole Peking fish because you ordered M-7 instead of M-4, but the 4 looked like a 7 to you.

Prostrate

Who would think that something the size of a golf ball could be so much trouble,and that golf ball sized organ can become the size of a tennis ball.

Urologist

I used to think going to the doctor to get a shot was uncomfortable,

but it is nothing to that latex finger!

Benign

It used to be what you said when you were younger and someone asked you how old you were going to be after you’re “8”.

PSA score

Isn’t that how well a golfer is doing during a national Golf Tournament?

Rogaine

These days, I do not need any help losing things. The last thing I need help with is my hair.

Laugh Lines

They used to be the part of a joke that made me laugh.

Now they make me cry!

Fiber

I used to look at a cereal box label to see what special toy was inside, now I look to see how many grams of fiber are in it.

Arthritis

Of all the things that could have been passed down to me from my family, couldn’t it have been a large inheritance or a trust fund!!

Cardiologist

I wish I liked to exercise. My doctor recently told me that running could add years to my life. The only thing I like running is my car in the cold weather while I waiting for it to warm up. Also been told I like to run my mouth!

Herniated Discs

Never paid much attention to them, until I found out that it was not something you brought your car into the mechanic to be replaced during a standard tune-up.

But getting older isn’t so bad, sure beats the alternative!!!!

My oh "MY"

My oh “MY”

The word “MY” used to be a word that meant something completely different to me years ago then it does now. MY truck, MY treehouse, MY girlfriend, MY car, MY apartment. It was nice to put that little 2 letter word in front on things. It often showed ownership of things I was proud of.

Later in life it became MY wife, MY family, MY house, MY business. Once again this 2 letter word was placed in front of many accomplishments. Things once again I was proud of ( and don’t get me wrong, I am still proud of).

But as I get older, after I entered my 40’s, this little 2 letter word is being put in front of words I don’t want it to come in front of, things that I do not want ownership of. MY urologist, MY cardiologist, MY herniated discs, MY kid’s therapist, MY attorney.

My oh MY has this crazy rollercoaster of life changed.

LOL

LOL

At 45 years old, and like many people my age, which is still young in my eyes, we are faced with an ever changing language. They call it initialism, words compounded with abbreviated letters. To be very honest, I am not very good at it and would rather spell out the words instead of giving the first letter of each word, g2g, ttyl, omg…..and of course lol.

I often have to ask my daughters what some of these abbreviations mean. An example of my misunderstanding is the most often abbreviation “lol”. I used to believe it stood for lots of love, instead of laugh out loud. But I am not alone in my misunderstanding.

A customer of mine, who often frequents my shop, also thought it stood for something else. When Annie’s cousin had the misfortune of losing her mother,

Annie’s aunt, the family was in mourning. Not being able to be there for the family, in the mid-west, she wanted to keep in contact and express her comfort and love. Along with phone calls, Annie also used texting to keep in contact with her family.

Annie wrote, “So sorry to hear about your mom. She was a great woman and will surely be missed. LOL!” Annie couldn’t understand why, after a warm and loving text, her cousin was offended and found nothing “funny” about it. It wasn’t until later that Annie found out when she was expressing LOL, “ lots of love”, she sent out “laugh out loud”. I think I will start writing out the full words more often!

Kina Hora

Kina Hora

Posted on August 5, 2014by chefnyack

I woke this morning noting that today was Friday the 13th. I thought about all the superstitions out there. Superstitions are not based on reason or knowledge. Some find these old folk beliefs as being irrational. Some refer to them as old wives’ tales. The belief of practicing certain rituals will bring good luck, ward off the evil eye or even prevent death.

Some will give you bad luck like walking under a ladder, a black cat crossing your path, walking onto a crack on the sidewalk, opening an umbrella inside, and breaking a mirror!

Some are done to prevent bad things from happening like throwing salt over your shoulder after a spill, knocking on wood, keeping a rabbit foot in your pocket, and hanging a horseshoe over a doorway.

I used to believe that these ritual actions were silly and ridiculous. But then I converted to Judaism, and find that not a day passes that I am not performing some act or belief to keep my life safer.

In our household, we observe others to prevent “kina hora”. When we first moved in our house we were given bread & salt that was put into a bag and tucked away. We never put a hat on the bed! When writing the name of our creator, never spell out G-d. And it is not uncommon to see any member of my family spit three times into their fingers saying poo, poo, poo after saying something we don’t want to curse. The car is running well now-poo,poo,poo. I haven’t had an ear ache all year-poo,poo,poo.

My mom is doing well-poo,poo,poo.

Do I actually believe that by doing certain actions that hold no rational explanation will have effects on outcome? I’m not quite sure, but it’s working so far…..poo,poo,poo!

A Job "Well Done"

A Job “Well-Done”

Sometimes life seems to repeat itself. Sometimes every so often, and sometimes daily.

I have this older gentleman who frequents my shop every day. He has the same routine. He walks over to the case where I have today’s fresh baked muffins, scones and other breakfast breads. He takes a moment and begins his daily conversation.

“ The muffins are burnt. I had one yesterday and it was so charred. It tasted like charcoal!” He than pursues to order one.

First of all, I would never serve anything that I felt was inferior or was not something I would not enjoy myself. I explained to him that my muffins are perfect. They are a great balance of a nice baked crust on the outside and a moist texture on the inside. I use a convection oven which helps make them that way. I believe they are the best muffin in town. All my customers love them.

He looks at me with a stare and continues to disagree with me, but insisting on ordering one. I explained to him that today the muffin will be exactly like always and that if he really doesn’t like them he probably should not be ordering one.

I put his raisin bran into the paper bag, ring him up for $1.95, and hand him his muffins

“Have a nice day, I will see you tomorrow!” I say.

Good Luck Charm

Good Luck Charm

Posted on August 5, 2014by chefnyack

As many know, ever since my dad died, he communicates with me by sending me feathers. Some with magnificent colors, some more interesting than others, and some so small they just glide in the wind. The warming presence of my sister in law, Katherine,is always watching over as well. Sometimes I believe I hear her unique laugh, belting out of the sky.

Wanting to write about my experience yesterday, was so on the top on my mind. But my wife took the words right out of my mind ( and heart) and so eloquently sent this letter to some friends and family. She gets me and that is why I love her so.

“Just wanted to send love – and a little story. Yesterday was Cris’s casting interview for the Food Network.( Deb – you were a great coach!) We went out shopping for the clothes the night before – and I truly felt Kath with me the whole time – guiding me to the “right” look – and persuading Cris to buy “Polo” shorts rather than his usual teenage boy look! He looked perfect – and before he left the house I put a tiny little silver bead from Kath’s bracelet ( which broke months ago – but I kept as many beads as I could) into his shirt pocket. He was very touched.

Since the day he got the letter about this interview I can hear Kath’s voice in my head….and her enthusiasm and encouragement. I don’t honestly think ANYONE would be more excited than she would. Can’t you just hear her – and picture her prepping him!

He got to the interview early – and was having coffee outside the building when he noticed a tiny white feather floating down from the sky. It gently landed at his feet. Some of you may know that feathers for Cris are signs from heaven from his dad! He tucked it into his shirt pocket next to Kath’s bead. They were with him close to his heart for his interview ( which he feels really good about!) Of course I’ll keep you posted – it will be months till he hears anything.

All my love to each of you very dear and special friends – and best wishes for a great summer.

Cancer Reflection

Cancer Reflection

I want to look at my reflection in the mirror
and realize
WOW
after all those hurts,
after all those procedures,
after all of the radiation,
after the surgery
and waiting
and waiting,
after all of those trials,
I really made it through.
I want to say
“I DID IT.
I REALLY DID IT.
I survived that which kills so many”
I want to lift my head
in the direction upwards toward the sky,
with my eyes gently closed
and feel the warmth
of that midday hot summer sunlight
shine down on my face
free of cancer.
I want it to be gone!
I want to be free
free of the worry
and fear
of my mortality.

A Full Day

a full day

There are some days that are full, to the brim, and some days that are overflowing, past the brim, and pouring out all over the table. But there are those days, those really hard days, which it is so overflowing, that it is hard to stay afloat. You tread and tread hoping to make it to the end of the day. Today is one of those days.

When you wake up not feeling well and also awake with the sense of needing more sleep, you know that the day is not off to a great start. After making sure that the store is all set up and ready, I had to pick up all the platters from the weekend catering, run to the restaurant store for a few needed items, cater two lunches and meet the tent guy over a client’s house to measure a tent for a party.

All before noon!!!!

Then I received a text form my daughter. A sad text! She lives for singing. Actually she never stops singing. From the earliest time that I could remember, she sang. She sang in the nursery, she sang in the tub, she sang in yard, she sang everywhere!!! She now sings on stage for school. Her voice is beautiful!!! So as a dad, when I got a text from her that she didn’t make advanced chorus at school, it sort of ripped my heart out. She wanted it so bad and I really think she is good enough. But with only a couple of alto spots open, she didn’t get in!!

Having children is really hard. You want the best for them. You want them to be happy, secure and love life. There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to help them along.

So when it doesn’t work out for them and they hurt, it really hurts you as well. I know that I can not control all the things that unfold in my kids lives, I accept that often it is out of my hands, but when your children are upset and hurting, you just want to turn back the clock. You want to put them on your lap, wrap them up in a blanket and rock them to sleep after reading them a story.

But I need to live what I preach to my kids. Today was a hard day, but tomorrow will be better!!!!!. Or at least I can hope for the best!!!!

Do You Know the Muffin Man

Do You Know the Muffin Man?

This one is not on Drury Lane, but on Broadway.

My neighbor, Margaret, strolled into my shop yesterday with her kids. As any kid who walks into a gourmet shop, they were drawn to the clear jars of baked cookies and my oven fresh muffins. Their mom, who is an incredible baker herself, insured them that when they got home they would be making some fresh banana bread. And her banana bread is awesome! It didn’t matter; they still wanted a cranberry orange muffin.

It was a slow day. We had just been punished with more snow. As most parents do, when there is a snow day, Margaret encouraged the kids to enjoy outside and to take walk into downtown with her. I had made much too many muffins for the day and was glad that they wouldn’t be wasted, or forcibly made into another bread pudding. So I insisted that she take some home. She put them into her recyclable tote bag and headed home to bake some bread.

When she got home she realized that her bag was gone. The muffins were not the only thing that was in the bag. The bag also had her wallet in it that held her life. Without it, she was lost, or at least it was going to take a while to start canceling cards, stopping checks, reissuing licenses, etc. It was really missed. Margaret had called my wife and asked if I had found the bag at work. But, with much disappointment, I had not found it.

The following day, once again getting punished by snow, and ice this time, I received a call from my friend at the village hall. She asked me if I knew a person named Margaret.

I immediately assumed it was about her bag. I said I did, and was correct in the assumption. Someone found her bag and returned it to the village hall. But I was baffled.

I asked her at the village hall, “how did you know to ask ‘me’ if I knew someone who lost their wallet?” She said, “Cris, I would know your muffins anywhere!!!!”

See Saw of Life

seesaw of life  

Balancing life is truly a challenge. Finding the exact spot on the seesaw of life that enables you to stay balanced in the middle, is something I search for. But as most people, life sometimes, more often than not, prefers one side of the seesaw than the other. And often we tumble and fall off.

So I am doing the best I can, finding that balance between husband, father, caterer, employer, community volunteer, friend and now blog writer. Let’s see how this blog evolves.

I am going to try to write about life as a middle aged man sometimes struggling to survive and it’s daily, often comical, obstacles that are thrown at me. So hang on and enjoy a unique outlook on one man’s daily life in a small northern village outside of Manhattan.