The Best

I'm an obsessive bastard, as if anyone didn't know. I lock in on things and focus on them until the bitter and often brutal end. I'm very much similar to a pit bull in that if you have earned some degree of spite with me, chances are good I still haven't forgiven you for it. I hold on to a great many things, including expectations.

In particular are those expectations I have on myself. I've never done anything that I couldn't have looked back later on and said to myself, "That was the best I could do." Now, that doesn't mean I haven't made mistakes, because I have. Many of them in fact. But most of my mistakes have stemmed from either misinterpretation or miscommunication. Almost never have I screwed up because I didn't give it my all, and rest assured if I have, I'm still kicking myself for it.

I toss the phrase, "The Best" around a lot. It sort of my gold standard, if you will. The mark that makes me the stellar and fabulous person I am. In my greatest of daydreams, people always say "Well, he's the best," when referring to me. That I have established a reputation in the world of someone who delivers every fucking time he's put into the mix. It's what I always wanted for myself, and what I strived for in every thing I did. I made the best damn BGO tunes, wrote the best stories and blogs, and performed my day gigs to the best of my ability, every damn time. And I did so knowing that sooner or later that reputation I have been craving would eventually fall on my lap.

Foolish stuff, right?

The unargueable truth is that I haven't proven myself the best at anything yet. And at the end of the day, I am not the flawed individual who delivers great things day in and day out as I envisioned myself out to be. Well, the flawed part is still pretty accurate, but I digress....

This isn't a pity post or anything. I'm not expecting the loyal masses to come out of woodwork screaming, "Oh no man, you're the best. Your music changed my life and your writing really made me think about the human condition! You're aces buddy!" I'm not looking for pats on the back or anything, mostly it's me expressing the realization that I am not what I thought I was. And having to run that through all the cogs of my obsessive and anal nature. Which has not been an easy task people, hence me tossing out all my garbage for everyone to see.

I think what's kicking my ass is the fact that I'm now leaning towards a profession that not only expects the best, but expects it consistently and repeatedly.

Food services people, you go out into the world and sit at your favorite diner or cafe, you expect one of the best damn meals of your day. That's all there is too it. And the last thing you want is to have a burnt, charred piece of meat while the next person has something on their plate that looks like it belongs in a book. If you're the person behind the grill that day, all those pieces of meat had better look and taste equally amazing.

This is a scary prospect for someone who gets agitated when someone tells him he put too much salt on his fish. And in the profession of culinary arts, I will openly admit that I am not "The Best." In fact, if I somehow get out there and manage to hold my own, I'll be thorougly impressed.

For years, I have said that music was one of the hardest forms of expression out there. With music, you only have one shot to make your statement. One chance, within the scope of five minutes, to make an impression on someone that can last a lifetime. And if your singing is off, or you picked a chorus that took you out of the moment, that's it. It's over, and you may never get that chance again.

I said that for years, and I'm now willing to admit it's wrong. Delivering a song is nothing. I can whip out a song within two hours and have it published online. And if it fails, well people just press SKIP and check out something else. No harm, no foul. But food? People pay money for that sort of thing, and they expect quality as a result. You've got fifteen minutes, if that, to put something in front of them that is good, and what comes after that? Probably doing it again....and again, and again, and again. If you're successful, the same dishes you're making now will have to be made that same way repeatedly. And if you drop the ball? Well those folks may just not come back, which is a bit of a problem since the industry of food is based entirely on return customers. Oh sure, getting fascinating people come from around the country to sample your goods sounds real nice on paper, but it won't pay the bills. Music is a one time thing, you buy the tunes once and savor them for the rest of your days. Not so with food, nope, you gotta have a group of locals saying to themselves, "That was good, I think I'll come back here again."

So, I spend nights staring at the ceiling looking at this two ways: either this is the profession that will fit me, being the anal and obsessive type, like a glove. Or, this is the position that is going to drop me on my ass, then kick me repeatedly in the gut while I whimper in the fetal position.

Either way, it's confusing people. Damned confusing.