What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

What do you think it is?


A steak cutter? A book seller? A graphic designer? A model photographer?


Nope. And you know why? None of those jobs makes me truly happy. Life is all about searching, exploring, trying to find that needle in a haystack. And when you do find that needle then you can go to sleep contently; but seriously, what are the odds of that happening? How many of us actually have a job, day in and day out, that we actually love? Actually despise to stop doing that job when it is time to call it a day? My guesstimate is below the 1% range because everybody seems to get stuck in this bubble that makes us feel secure but are too scared to pop that bubble and see where we land. I really think that is why I was with my first job I ever had at the "7 Year Steak Home" for well: seven years. I felt secure and fell into this 'some what' comfort zone but during all this I wanted out. I wanted more. I wanted something different. Yes, it was an experience that has altered my life in a direction that I am very pleased with but when that unwanted, secure bubble was popped and I fell and yes, I fell hard, I could FINALLY do want I wanted. No strings attached. No ball and chain.

As many of us grow older and grow further away from the drive to do the things we want when we have the chance, those individuals once again are stuck in that bubble. I've seen it too many times and it makes me have sympathy for those hopeful, yet hopeless, particular ones.

So, what is it that I want to be when I grow up?

Many things actually: 1. an astronaut would rock 2. a professional NBA player would be sweet or maybe 3. an actor on some of my favorite T.V. shows like the Office or Lost... Come on, we all have to be realistic here. My realistic option is a travel photographer or a travel writer or a photojournalist. Just as long as it has to do with traveling and photography but why? Because that is what will make me truly happy and I will not be in this bubble that I want out of. Is this realistic option doable? Yeah, that is why I put the adjective 'realistic' in front of 'my option'.  Sure an astronaut is realistic but I don't know anything about enginnering or astrophysics nor do my interests lie there so that isn't my dream. I'm not great at basketball so the NBA option can go to LeBron James' kid. Not me. And as for being on the Office or Lost, their ratings would plummet do to my horrendous excuse for acting. I will leave those options to the individuals that have a dream for those things.

It is the places the photojournalists/travel writers/travel photographers see, the events they see, the people they see, the culture they see, the opportunities they see. It's all about the 'seeing' for me. I want to capture all that through my camera lens and to be able to tell a story with a single photograph. As my friend Azam Saad, said in one of his blogposts, "It's always un-perfect pictures but compensate by a good story behind it. Noise doesn't matter, blur doesn't matter. As long as it tells a story. It's art, nothing should be perfect." That makes perfect sense, to me of course. There is too much that is needed for a model shoot or how lighting should be for a certain photo shoot and it seems to me that it is an art form that is less about the art and beauty of it and more about the money. Do you think the photographers of National Geographic are photographing the culture of Tunisia or the volcanoes in Pompei all for the money? I seriously doubt it.

Below are some of my favorite photographs that show exactly the point I am trying to get across.

By photographer James Brown.

By photographer Elliot Erwitt

By photographer David Lazar

This last photograph may be disturbing but it is real life.

By photographer Eddie Adams

This last photograph was taken in 1968 while Eddie followed a group of South Vietnamese soldiers who captured members of the Viet Cong and witnessed one of those members being executed. After this photograph was seen it became a world wide image of the Vietnam War. I know a majority of you have seen this photograph. Now, put your thinking caps on. Do you remember the photograph of Heidi Klum on the May 2003 issue of Elle magazine or do you remember this photograph?...... That is what I thought.

How My Mac Got the Swine Flu

Yes, that's right. My all perfect, slick, smooth, flawless Mac got sick. But how Apple? How could this happen?


It all started two weeks ago. I did a photo shoot for a potential job. After the shoot I was given two days to post process the photos and have them ready for presentation. Later that night I worked on the photos and knocked them out pretty smoothly. No problems... but it was coming up to 4:30 in the morning and I needed to get to bed for work the next day. Granted, I had only a few things here and there to do to them before they were finalized.


Went to sleep, counted sheep or maybe it was apples as seven peaceful hours pass and then I wake up and resume my work at noon the next day. I hit the power button on my Mac.......................WTF?


Computer booted up fine. Hard drive sounds fine. It even made the ambient chiming sound when a Mac boots up.... but what is this? I can't see anything. My screen is black. Yes, black. My heart rate rises drastically, perspiring starts, breathing becomes heavier, my eyes stop blinking, my mouth won't close. I ultimately freak out. I have to get these photos finished by tomorrow. I can't see anything on my screen. I can't get to my photos. I can't do anything on my Mac.


I quickly pack it up and drive and do it as if my wife (when I do get married) is giving birth in the car. Mac/PC repair shop here I come. I weave in and out of traffic and I actually made amazing time to get there. I used to work right next door and NEVER got there that quick. My car slams into a parking spot and I bombard through the door. The gentleman running the shop should have been wearing a giant 'S' on his shirt and a red cape flailing in the wind. He knew what to do. He was able to retrieve my photos. Well one problem down but now I don't have a f***ing computer to work with.


I drive back home pondering. I don't know why I was thinking. Every computer I know of doesn't have the program that I use to edit my photos so I was S.O.L. No worth in thinking. Nothing could be done at the time.


I get home and immediately call Apple up. *Side Note: Everybody knows me for Apple. I would fight to the death for Apple and here is another reason why Apple is better than PC's. When you have a problem with your Mac you talk to a guy/gal in California, not INDIA!... now, back to my story...
I talk to a lovely gal on the phone and she knows how to fix my problem. I simply do what she says and Wham! Bam! my computer screen works. My heart rejoices. My eyes fill with tears of happiness. I'm going to send that gal a hug via FedEx.


I go back to work on my photos and finish them in time before work. Yay, go me. Work passes and I'm back home. My index finger gracefully pushes the power button on my Mac... the blackness of death has engulfed my screen once again. F***!


I can't call Apple. Its midnight. Problem will have to continue on till tomorrow.


Sleep wasn't good that night. In fact: sleep did not exist that night.


First thing in the morning I call Apple. They set me up to send my Mac in to get repaired and I must say it was quick. You would have spent more time on the phone with that guy in India trying to figure out why Windows keeps crashing. If I were that guy I say, "Get a Mac."


All in all it was my Logic Board. I don't know what that is just as along as it works properly. Yes, for this one instance I can put my foot in my mouth but Apple took care of me and did it quickly. My Mac is back and I am going to continue bashing Windows. Since the number 7 is a lucky number, is that why Windows called their new OS 'Windows 7' in hopes that they will get lucky this time.


I wouldn't doubt it.


And that is how my Mac caught the Swine Flu.

Don't Remember Me?... I'm that Steak Guy

It amazes me how the human mind works. So many nerves and neurons. I once read that the human brain has over 100 billion neurons, that is 16 times more than the amount of people on this Earth and amazingly not one of those tiny little suckers can remember a simple, yet loveable face :D


I was let go from my prominent job (at the time) back on the beautiful Spring day of the beginning of June. Ahh, of course I remember what the weather was like that day, my life changed drastically and it wasn't in my hands. I worked at this place which I will call my "7 year steak home". It was my life. There were times where I spent more time there than my own apartment or saw my co-workers more than my own friends. That is the restaurant lifestyle. 


My job was pretty basic but would scare away people that was training to help me out over the years. From table to table, I had to recite our menu and cut ribeye on a cutting board which eventually meshed with my forearm and we were one. Kinda like those sci-fi characters with a gun as an arm. Well I was that guy with a cutting board as an arm. I took the customers orders and continued the process. I visited those tables 857,902 times (guesstimate but probably right), and saw three times as many faces, maybe four and I saw some of those faces twice a week, three times a week, ten times a week.


Now, if you saw somebody's face on multiple occasions throughout the week, knew their name, what they were studying in school, their dog's name, even notice when they get a haircut and then suddenly you don't see them for 4-5 months, you would recognize them right? 


Wrong.


Since my departure from 7 Year Steak Home, I have run into regular customers many times. Nobody recognized me ('cept one). And it makes me think, "How?" You know my dog's name but you don't recognize my face or even my voice. What if I just stand there and say "Prime Rib with Au Jus", will a bell start chiming away in your brain. Maybe if I was wearing my attire from the job out on the street or wherever I bump into them, THEN they might recognize me. I wear my street clothes to Wal-Mart: I'm nobody but I walk in there with my chef coat, black apron, slacks, and shoes then I'm that "Steak Guy". I even had full on conversations with some of them because, well, I had too in the circumstance that I ran into them at my 'other' job. Did they recognize me? You know the answer to that.


Granted, one customer did recognize me when I ran into them but I disgracefully didn't remember her. If you were a regular that came in once a year (Valentine's Day) then no I'm not going to recognize you. If I saw you even once a few months then you have my attention. Sure, call me a hypocrite for not remembering her but can you blame me, I've seen over a millions faces while working there.


Maybe I didn't make an impression to the customers while I worked there. Maybe I'll be remembered for something else (I surely and dearly hope so). But memory can be a tricky little gadget we have. CTRL + ALT + DEL? Maybe a reboot will help.

And so it begins...

I recently read a book called Waiter Rant Thanks for the Tip - Confessions of a Cynical Waiter by a very talented author named Steve Dublanica. He was lost in life as are many people at different stages in their own lives. He dived into the restaurant business, seeming unknowingly what he was about to get himself into to. Sometime during his 6+ years there he started a simple blog called Waiter Rant where he rants and raves about the life of a waiter. Over the months and years that he kept his blog going he gained millions of readers which lead to winning a blogging award and eventually landed the book deal to write his book. 


He nailed it. Ever word he wrote is true for the restaurant business. Basically, that book is my biography from the last 7+ years of my life except I didn't write the book and it was written about me. 


That's why I am on here. No, I'm not going to copy him and rant and rave about the disillusioned life of waiter. He described it word for word. I can add to it though and I just might but this is a blog about me, my life experiences, my travels, things I see, hear, feel, smell, taste and do. Writing for me has slowly, very slowly grown on me. I have never kept a journal in my life nor have I written anything besides the mandatory research papers and essays that I had no interest in for school. 


Hopefully my blog will entertain you. Hopefully it will keep you coming back for more. Only time will tell... as for now, let the experiences begin or shall I say continue on.