Tag: connection

Never Quite Measuring Up

Alcoholism, Self-Esteem By Matt Salis, MPS 2 Comments

Never Quite Measuring Up

Audio version now available.

 

I did the math in my head. If the sales revenue generated on the opening day of our fourth location remained even sort-of consistent, we would be good–finally over the hump to financial security. We started with one whole grain bread bakery in 2004, and four years later, we had added three locations, and I thought we had reached our goal. I remember where I was standing, on the stairs leading to our kitchen, when I was overcome by relief. A goal attained. At last. At long last.

 

But it didn’t last. I grew to resent those opening day looky-loos for getting my hopes up. Our fourth location settled into a revenue performance much like that of our other three bakeries. We would survive. But we were not going to thrive. So I looked for a new path to achieve our goal of financial security. I adjusted the product lines, trimmed down our workforce, promoted seasonal specials, changed our operating hours, partnered with other organizations, donated tons of bread in the community. I even ate nothing but whole grain bread for a whole month, and lost weight, to debunk the gluten-free frenzy. And I did it all in pursuit of a goal.

Big Birthday Revolution

Unashamed By Matt Salis, MPS 9 Comments

Big Birthday Revolution

Audio version now available.

 

My dad’s birthday was a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t send him a card. I called him on his birthday, but I got his voicemail, so I left a message. We didn’t talk until the next weekend. By then, it just felt like it had been too long to re-wish him a happy birthday, so I didn’t. He reads my blog, so Dad, happy birthday. There. A voicemail and an interweb shout-out.

 

I still feel guilty. And conflicted.

Rose, part two

Alcoholism, Emotional Safety By Matt Salis, MPS No Comments

Rose, part two

Audio version now available.

(Click here to read part one.)

Confused about the sources of her anxiety, and incapable of confronting Chris for the alcohol or relationship dysfunction, Rose did what she’d been trained to do her whole life. She signed up for 5k runs and thumbed through grad school degree catalogs. Deflection and gaslighting are traits so often assigned to people experiencing addiction first hand. But second-hand alcoholics can get pretty good at them, too. Rose could have taught a grad school class in denying reality and looking for a solution in external gratification.

 

Rose ignored the anxiety and her partner’s drinking, and instead focused on the next degree, the next job, or at least the next PR in the next Saturday morning race. It is a good thing she didn’t get the euphoric feeling from booze that many of us alcoholics experience. She had the denial and deflection down so well that it’s kind of amazing that she didn’t develop a debilitating addiction of her own.

 

She was stuck.

Million-Dollar Endorsement

Alcoholism, Parenting By Matt Salis, MPS 2 Comments

Million-Dollar Endorsement

Audio version now available.

 

While watching football over the holidays, my youngest son asked me why all of the sideline reporters are hot women, and all of the play-by-play commentators are variably attractive men. “Sexism,” I responded without hesitation. “It’s bothered me for years. These broadcasts are just money-generating engines, and I’m sure the networks have done focus groups. I think dudes are just uncomfortable being informed about football from chicks, except the cute ones who fawn over the winning quarterback.”

 

“Exactly,” my daughter said from behind the couch to which my fanny was semi-permanently adhered during bowl season. I didn’t even know she was in the room. Had I known, I might have used a different word. Females in their early-to-mid twenties have strong opinions, and they are pretty unified about reserving the word, “chicks,” for babies with feathers. Other than that, my message would not have been different had I known she was listening. Either way, it is hard for me to describe how it felt to have her agree with me.

 

At first, it was like the jolt of joy you get when you put on your jeans for the first time in the fall and find a five-dollar bill in the back pocket. But the more I have thought about it, the more her one-word reaction means to me. It has been a long time since she felt comfortable endorsing my opinion.

3 Things I Love about Friendsgiving

Alcoholism, Family By Matt Salis, MPS No Comments

3 Things I Love about Friendsgiving

Audio version now available.

 

You probably assume that one of my top three loves for a holiday meal shared with friends rather than family is the likelihood of avoiding tense conversations about politics–the conflicts prevalent around a traditional multi-generational family Thanksgiving table. The last Saturday Night Live episode in November almost always features at least one skit that starts with a smiling family watching the patriarch carve the turkey, and devolves into a blur of isms and phobias with a predictable buildup and and eventual crescendo of mashed potato spittle being scream-launched while someone chugs directly from the wine bottle out of desperation.

 

Avoiding such scenes is not one of the three reasons I love Friendsgivings.

Bizarre at the Boathouse, Part 2

Alcohol By Matt Salis, MPS No Comments

Bizarre at the Boathouse, Part 2

Audio version now available.

 

Boathouse shindigs are my kind of parties. Years ago, we were at a barbeque in someone’s backyard when one of the children of the host fell going up their deck stairs and needed stitches. The hosts both left with their child, and the rest of the party goers pulled together to put away the food and clean up the party. While picking up cups and dishes, I knocked a full glass of red wine left on the fireplace hearth onto their white living room carpet. That experience is why I’ve always appreciated cleanup at the boathouse. It is more of a covered patio. It is elevated with a walk-in basement below, but the party area is a concrete slab with a roof overhead–perfect for spring and autumn nights. And also, perfect for cleanup. A pushbroom, and snow shovel for a dustpan, and maybe some spot mopping, and the renter gets their security deposit back.

 

At a recent church event hosted at the boathouse, I was hanging around waiting for cleanup to start. My wife, Sheri, works at the church, and as is the case with most nonprofit organizations that depend on volunteer labor, the spouses of the employees were voluntold to help clean up. Just like I witnessed the bizarre behavior of the teens when the boathouse was used for homecoming, I leaned against the boathouse wall and watched a peculiar ritual of young adulthood with which I was painfully familiar. The twenty and thirty somethings were well lubricated, and the alcohol gave me a glimpse of how the reserved professionals and parents behaved when they dropped their shields of decorum. Listen, nothing debaucherous took place at the boathouse, much to my disappointment. If people are going to let loose and compile regrets for the morning, I want to see something worthy of my penchant for storytelling. I was left disappointed in that regard.

Progress

Addiction, Family, Recovery By Matt Salis, MPS 2 Comments

Progress

Audio version now available.

 

Waymo cars driven by humans are techno-mapping the streets of Denver. Local TV ads are recruiting D.P.D. officers to fulfill their destinies and become ICE agents (read that sentence in your best James Earl Jones voice). There are over eight billion people on the planet, but a handful of lunatics possess nuclear codes that could wipe us all out. People get their news from platforms that also allow us to sell our old air fryer or garden hose to our neighbors. I miss plays at the high school football game because I get distracted by the drones filming the action. And I just want to go deep in the mountains and build a lean-to out of sticks and mud.

Yummy Summer of Turd

Alcohol, Emotional Safety By Matt Salis, MPS 6 Comments

Yummy Summer of Turd

Audio version now available.

 

She looked at the back seat of my open-top, two-door Jeep Wrangler and asked, “How do I get in?” Her face lit up with delight as she watched her bandmate step on the back bumper, throw a leg over the roll bar, and plop into the seat next to hers. “You mean I can just climb in? Ooh fun!”

 

My youngest kid’s high school band played at halftime of the Colorado State University football game Saturday night. Just before the performance, my son texted asking if we could take a couple of other kids home when the bus got back to Denver around midnight? I didn’t recognize one of the names, so I asked for cross streets to gauge against my feelings of hospitality. I’m a nice guy, but I’m not building a resume for sainthood. And I follow the Herm Edward’s doctrine that nothing good ever happens after midnight. She lived close, so I “generously” agreed.