Another Damn Food Blog

It’s important to remember what you are. I think that’s why I’ve been fighting this self-serving “About” bullshit for a year now.

Who I am is boring. I'm just some guy. What I am, on the other hand, is a GenX corporate burnout who cooks on the internet. An explanation is going to be a bit wordy and I apologize in advance, but context is everything. They say people love a good backstory. Maybe so. But that doesn’t mean they want to read it.

When I was a child, I had four ambitions. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to be a chef. I wanted to be a disk jockey. I wanted to be an actor. Dad wanted me to be a draftsman. Dad won.

His reasoning was simple: it paid well, and you didn’t need an education. He wasn’t wrong. For many years, I did quite well drawing things despite having no artistic talent. Fortunately, CAD became a thing, and I had an aptitude for it. I quickly transitioned into 3D modeling and design, which became my primary career. But that doesn't mean I didn’t try to do other things. In fact, I hated it and was constantly looking for an escape. I never stopped resenting that my career had been chosen for me. It took me over 35 years to understand why, and it was only about a year and a half ago when my sister explained it to me. She was a draftsman too.

From her perspective, Dad gave us this skill so we could earn a decent living while pursuing other passions. Drafting wasn’t meant to define us; it was just a tool. Thirty-five years, and I had never realized that. I think this is a common issue with my generation—we were defined by our work. I see a similar struggle among Millennials today. They were taught to be more than their jobs, but they're stuck in a system run by Boomers and Gen Xers who still cling to that old mindset. This creates a lot of conflict around self-definition

As I mentioned earlier, I kept trying to break away. Acting didn’t work out for me, obviously—turns out there's this thing called “talent” that I lacked. I also worked as a disk jockey for a while, but Dad made me quit and get an office job. You can probably see why I resented him. In hindsight, though, he had a point. I was earning minimum wage in radio—$3.35 an hour part-time—whereas in an office, I could make around $12 an hour with full benefits. Plus, I was already marriage-minded, with a wife at 19 and a son by the time I was 21.

I spent many years working as a contractor, hopping from job to job without ever settling down, while my first marriage fell apart. Even so, I enjoyed being a contractor. I was essentially a hired gun—well-paid, temporary, and free from the typical office culture. Once the crisis at a job site was over, so was I. That kind of freedom was something I valued.

Time did what it does, slowly, imperceptibly, day after day. I have a laundry list of things I tried to do instead of drafting & design. Pro cooking was one of them. Massage therapy was another. Hell, I even taught cooking school for a bit. That was a weird 18 months.

My last pro-cooking job was a nightmare. I was a 30-year-old sous chef in a place I didn’t belong. I was putting in massive hours for little money and I remembered I could go back to engineering and make a better living without the bullshit, so I did. Doubled my income overnight and cut my hours in half. Overnight.

I did miss it, though. Not the business itself, but the people. To this day, I am still friends with the bar manager of that last place. He’s moved on to bigger and much better things since then.

Back at an engineering job, I somehow allowed myself to go direct with a company. To go direct is to cease to be a contractor; to be an actual employee. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was the second worst decision I could have made because it lead me to the worst one.

I poured myself into my work. I allowed it and the company to become important to me. I excelled. As is usually the case, more work and responsibility was heaped upon me. My hours increased and I relished it. I wanted and felt like I had earned more. In my mind, I was one thing. In the eyes of my managers, I was something else entirely. That realization led to my worst decision: to go back to school and get my degree in IT Business Management. My intent was to forever put the drafting thing behind me. I even lost 120 pounds to aid in the acceptance of the new and improved version of me. The “new me” was more or less accepted, but the expectation was I would continue doing design work, albeit with more pay, more responsibility, less personality, and a fancy, meaningless new title. I was not amused, but I tolerated it for a while, expecting things to change.

That’s one of those things they do to you. They give you hope and keep moving the finish line as you approach it. Like Lucy from “Peanuts” with the football, always defining new criteria, always pulling the ball away at the last second.

When it finally dawned on me what was happening, the almost 20 years I had spent at that one place were rendered irrelevant by a change in ownership. I had several other jobs between then and now, and it was always the same thing. I kept being relegated to doing my old job as a condition of being allowed to do my new job. The last “real job” I held was for about six months. One of those red-flag shithole jobs you take because you’re desperate. They were very proud of making people wear multiple hats.

Let that be a lesson to anyone reading. Any company that is proud of having a single person do multiple peoples’ jobs is not in good financial health and deserves to go out of business. Yes, it happens during a downturn, but should be corrected as soon as times are better. If not, it is not a good place to work and never will be. In the six months I was there, I was the CAD manager, Configuration Manager, IT Manager and was responsible for designing three product lines. They also wanted me to clean out the Sales closet.

I woke up to the realization that this was all I could expect for the rest of my working career and I burned out. Not from exhaustion, but from disgust. At them, at myself, at our society, and I ran. And here I am.

When you get to a certain age and certain point in corporate America, you have “arrived”. That means your journey is complete. Finished. Done. I had arrived at a point where I could go no further, no matter how educated I was or how much I reigned myself in. I was done.

Not anymore. I’ve come undone. That’s what I am. Undone.

I have maybe 25 years left, if I’m lucky, and I refuse to go down on someone else’s terms, to be defined by their expectations of how I should be or comport myself. When I die, I want to be remembered as having taken advantage of my existence and having a really good time doing so. The last thing I want people to say about me is that I followed orders well and subverted my own interest for the good of some collective, be it corporate, political, religious, or societel. And that kinda tells you what you need to know.

Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure, I’m still a draftsman. But only for 40 hours a week. The other 128 belong to me.

If you want to rent me for whatever reason, you probably can. I do great work, but I’m a shit employee. Shoot me an email.

Food Blogger Street Cred:

• I am classically trained in French Cuisine (Le Cordon Bleu).
• I’m morbidly obese, technically. In all fairness, that doesn’t mean I actually eat well.
  • My weight actually fluctuates. I'm about 50 pounds heavier than I prefer (225 lbs), which is still considered obese.
• I’ve worked in professional kitchens, in pretty much every position.
• I have taught food science courses at the college level.
• I can consistently make 12 distinct shades of roux.
• I’m a food cost nerd.
• "Food" is a verb to me.

Other Facts:

• Justan Otherdamncook is my stage name. It was that or “Odin Thunderknob.”
• I’m 54.
• I’m male, heterosexual, and was born male. No idea why that’s remotely relevant.
• I’m married to my second wife.
• I have a 33-year-old son who lives on his own, is employed and is single.
• I have a mutant Pomeranian who I am not above “dogsploiting” for clicks, likes and follows.
• I hate groveling for clicks, likes and follows.
• I have two academic degrees. One in Culinary Arts (Le Cordon Bleu), one in IT Business management.
• I’ve been paid to do many things in my life:
  • Impotent middle manager
  • Engineering Data Manager
  • Design supervisor
  • Mechanical Designer
  • Digital sculptor
  • Dishwasher
  • Line cook
  • Sous Chef
  • Kitchen Manager
  • Chef
  • Chef Instructor
  • High School Teacher
  • Stall mucker
• Stall Mucker was my favorite job.
• I am a Deist.
• I am a Rothbardian Libertarian.
• I am a 32° Scottish Rite Freemason
• I am a conspiracy enthusiast. I think they ‘re fun. Except for Cryptids and Orgone Energy. I find those topics tedious.
• I consider myself a “Rational Hedonist”.
• I am sex positive.
• I am body positive.
• I don’t care about anyone's race, gender, or religion. Not my business.
• I believe my rights end where yours begin and vice versa.
• I have very strong opinions about things most people don’t find relevant.
• I have almost no opinion on things most people find extremely relevant.
• I collect medical oddities and toys.
• I read books about things I disagree with so I can understand them and what I believe better.
• I cook on the internet because no one wants to pay to watch me rub one out.
• Despite everything outlined, I’m still probably not what you think.