#Repost @stevevigerfishing with @get_repost ・・・ Finished sixth or seventh on Wentworth today caught a lot of fish. but was hot as hell! #xzonelures #THMarineteam #ardentreels #wootungsten #core7led #crankedfishing #kongcoolers #mealeymarine #hookfishproformance #amphibiaeyegear #baitowel#basscave #bassfishing #fishing #bass#largemouthbass #smallmouthbass #photooftheday
Alright so tonight I went with my friends to this hibachi place. That's the deal where you sit around a griddle with like nine other people and the chef cooks and plates the food right in front of you while spinning knives and lighting things on fire and speaking broken English. I don't know how common this kinda thing is. I think I've seen it in movies.
All the attention, even while you eat, is on the chef. That's not how I want to eat. I felt like I was eating alone with a charismatic Japanese guy. I want to eat with my friends. Have a conversation. The human element felt kinda lost.
I'm trying to figure out how I feel about it. Right now it feels like the performance aspect was fun, and the food was pretty good, but the fact that the two played off of each other made it feel like the two had to play off each other. Like the performance was fun because the food was good, but also that the food was good because I couldsee it made so I felt obligated to like it. Some combination of psychology and monosodium glutamate holding it all precariously together.
There's the whole thing where if you feel like someone or something only does one thing, it means they must be really good at it. Like how the Google homepage is still only a search engine. They basically do literally everything, but they make it feel like they're still only one thing, and so they must be really dedicated to it. I feel like this kind of restaurant feeds off of that assumption. They put this chef in front of you that is REALLY good at doing all these tricks (hell, he's so dedicated he hasn't even taken the time to learn English all the way), so you assume he's making good food. You get a good first impression, and you try to find the reasons why you're right. I've talked about that ad nauseum by now.
The fact that the chef is Japanese feeds straight into it with the whole "Asians spend their lives becoming complete masters at just one thing" stereotype.
It felt like I was happy, because I was being told to be happy. This is what makes other people happy, you should be happy too. I felt myself resisting it at times. I don't know if it was "strangers are watching you fail to catch a broccoli in your mouth" anxiety. I don't know if it was that "what is popular is always wrong" fallacy I try to fight. I don't know if it was the unsavory price tag on the whole thing. It just felt so American, in the worst sense of the word. I might as well listen to cheap big room house and watch American Pie movies past the first one and go on a cruise through the Caribbean as a vacation. Textbook "popular is always wrong," I know. I don't want to sound like a buzzkill here.
I feel like I just don't want to have the same kind of happy that everyone else does, (just like I don't want to judge myself the way the media or society or whatever tells me too). I want to find my own kind of happy, whatever that is, and I want to do it as much as I need to. I wanted to throw a quote in here from this video which got me thinking like this, but it's pretty visual and too damn good to only excerpt. Just watch it. I feel like I don't want the happy that other people tell me about. I want to chase down my own.
Before I left I was considering this DJ Shadow concert that's coming up in November. He does this old school instrumental hip hop/trip hop sound I've really gotten into recently, and I don't know when I'll have another chance to see a good, classic DJ like that (in the traditional sense of DJ, the ones with discs, and jockeying), but I was turned off a little by the $27 tickets. But I just spent more than that on a whim on a dinner I'm not sure I enjoyed all the way, so now I have to rethink my value of my dollars a little.
