My short term project has morphed into a marathon. I have been out of town for ten straight days and will be so again this week. We did, however, squeeze a weekend visit to the home of some dear friends into my travel schedule. The weekend of sun, sand, surf, good food, better wine and the best company was just the buffer I needed between two weeks that were, frankly, frustrating.
We met a couple of characters over that weekend who I cannot get out of my mind. Both served us meals. Skeeter, by all appearances, runs a waterside hangout for locals. There is an owner and a chef, but I can tell she runs the joint. For a woman of a certain age, her hair is too blonde and too long, her jewelry is too large and her jeans are too tight. But it all works for her; she is a charmer. I can tell why her place is so popular. Janet is a waitress in an old-fashioned diner much like the one I enjoy so well at home. She is buxom, witty and sharp tongued in the classic diner-waitress mode. Her first words directly to me after I made a special menu request were “I have a special table for you honey — just on the other side of the (six lane) highway.” I was happy she didn’t place my special table in the center lane.
On those separate days, we engaged these two ladies in conversation. We learned that they grew up perhaps 75 miles from each other in the central Appalachian Mountains. They left home more than twenty years ago searching for opportunity and happiness. One appears to be anchored in her new home; the other dreams of retiring to the little place she has “back home.” I am sure neither knows the other exists.
During the little breaks between my many, many meetings last week, these two ladies popped into my head often. I thought of issues large and small. There is no reason they should have made a big impression on me; but they obviously did.
They personified to me the exodus from that area of Appalachia that I know so well and the migration to the land of sun and riches. They represent many changes in our national economy and political landscape.
I thought of their membership in the extremely large group of hard-working folk who support the equally small number of fantastically wealthy who have made that area a winter playground. The hedge fund managers and their billions make all the headlines. I wonder how many of them notice, much less appreciate, Skeeter, Janet and their millions of counterparts.
I thought about the changes in their lives — the shock of moving from home to a place so foreign and the slower transformation of this area from the sleepy place it was when they first arrived. The changes I have brought on myself have made me very sensitive to the changes and the choices others made and make.
Finally, I thought often about how genuine and engaging they both were, and how welcome I felt in their respective establishments. Many (dare I say most) servers could learn a lesson from these two ladies — in particular, the very attractive young bartender I encountered a few nights later. Her smile and light conversation at her nearly empty bar would have been much more believable had any of it occurred before she looked at my gratuity.
Good luck Skeeter and Janet; I wish you well. And if, by chance, you ever come upon this page, you should have let me pick up the checks this visit — and you’d better let me next time!
This afternoon I put together five gift packages that were all going to the same address:
freddie hubbard the artist selects
I was a bit concerned about putting multiple gifts in the same shipping box.† I am fairly pleased with how the individual packages looked — at least when they went into the box.
I am having an unforeseen reaction to one aspect of my new circumstances.† For the first time since (oh) first grade, I have no place I am supposed to be at 8:00 a.m.† I am not on vacation; I am supposed to be working.† And I am working and making progress.† It is simply odd disassociating work from an office or a classroom.† In the past, I really thought I was the master of my schedule and that I could work wherever I happened to be.† How wrong I was!† The feeling I have is one of liberation.† I didn’t fully appreciate that aspect of this comment until this morning.
I had best not get used to this sort of liberation.† Soon enough, I will be in a production facility, have fish ready to cure and smoke, and have orders waiting to be fulfilled.† Once again, I will have someplace I have to be.
And, for the rest of this week, I will also have a place I need to be.† I will be working for several days on a short-term project unrelated to Just Cured.† So, unless I borrow a little computer time from my hosts, don’t expect to see new posts from me for a few days.
Thanks to Sister No. 1 and Mike at On Location Multimedia, there is a better image of Fish in the page banner. To the two dear friends who each thought that Fish was a hippopotamus, please let me know if he looks more like a fish now that his picture is professionally cropped.
This weekend, we are entertaining out-of-town house guests.†† We met this couple only four short years ago; yet it is sometimes hard to remember a time when we were not friends.† As they live far from us, we see each other only two or three times a year, usually on coordinated vacations.
We met by chance on such a vacation.† In our initial conversations they explained that they were traveling with two of their four dogs.† The two elder were too frail to travel great distances.† In fact, they said, the eldest would not be with them much longer — at 13 years, this large dog was nearing the end of her days.
Later that year, we had the opportunity to visit our new friends and meet the grand-mere pooch.† She was, as they had told us, very frail and, perhaps, the sweetest animal on the earth. † We had two subsequent opportunities to visit our friends and spend time with the dog-matriarch of the family.
Tonight, on this first visit of our friends to our home, their petsitter called to say that this dog was in distress.† A bit later, our friends instructed the sitter to take the dog to the emergency veterinary hospital. † Within an hour, this dog had left this earth.
I am quite sad that our friends were not with their old friend at the end.† So long as they were not, I am pleased they were with us on this mournful day.† We toasted a life well lived, told stories of her life, laughed a lot and cried more than a little.
Godspeed Kody.† You were a joy and a faithful companion.
For eight years, my non-lawyer duties at my now-former law firm included acting as the firm’s chief information officer. My principal function in that role was to be the bridge between my management’s technology wish list and my approximately dozen member IT team’s resources to execute technology projects. In fact, I also swapped out my share of hard drives, baby sat more than a few sick servers, and tested innumerable pieces of software and code. One thing I always managed to lay off on an IT professional was spending hours on the phone (mostly on hold) with a vendor’s technical support group.
I hope someone other than me noticed that this site was down for about half the day yesterday. While I spent a solid hour on the phone with Go Daddy’s hosting support specialists, I realized how much I already missed that group of IT professionals we assembled at that firm. I emailed my now former IT director and asked her “is holding for tech support going to be my most time consuming task in my new venture?” Her immediate reply: “Quite possibly.  ”
I emailed another friend that I missed having that dozen member team at my side. His immediate reply: “And do you also miss paying them?  ”
OK, I don’t miss them that much. I do miss their professionalism, their can-do attitudes, and their quirky ways. But most of all, I miss my daily interaction with that dedicated group of really good young men and women. I should have mentioned you in the January 1 post.
As I said in my first post, Just Cured’s first product will be a cold smoked salmon. I will be using a North Atlantic organically raised salmon. I have been experimenting with cures, cure times, woods, smoking times and smoking temperatures. I ended exactly where I started — with a simple process that yields a very fresh tasting smoked salmon.
The cure is salt with a touch of one secret ingredient — a top Kentucky Bourbon. The smoke is 100% oak. I like the combination of the oak smoke and the hint of the oaky, caramel overtones from the bourbon. Both the cure and the smoke times are quite short. The resulting product has a delicate, almost fresh salmon texture and a light smoke flavor. (Sorry, Kevin, you got a side from the run that I was least happy with. Your comments helped me clarify my opinions of the direction I was heading.)
Here are a couple of snapshot photos of the most recent run of salmon. A whole side:
And a few slices:
As this site is supposed to be about the company and its products, I suppose I should devote some attention to that subject on the inaugural day of the site.
The Name
Just Cured is a working name. It may not be the final name for the company or our products. The more I use the name, the more I like it. I will be open, however, to the suggestions of a brand consultant and trademark counsel. (Reminder: Add hiring one of each to my task list.)
The name resonates with me because the word “Just” carries three meanings that are appropriate for this business.
- Just Cured as in “only cured.” My present intention for this company is to limit our product offerings to traditionally cured and smoked fish and meat products.
- Just Cured as in “recently cured.” Although I do not intend for the business to be a custom, to-order operation, I likewise do not expect to carry large quantities of finished goods inventory. My intent is that our products will be cured shortly before we ship them. As for inventories of raw materials, there is the famous proverb about fish and guests.
- Just Cured as in “properly cured.” This is a nod to my legal career and training and the use and misuse of the term “just” in that field.
I will keep you apprised of progress or changes in the name arena.
The Just Cured Mascot
The fish in the poorly cropped photo in the page banner (reminder: Have someone with a clue about photo editing software fix this one temporarily. David M.?) will almost assuredly remain our company mascot and appear prominently in our logo. His name is simply “Fish.” He is part of a sculpture triptych (reminder: remove dictionary from the packing box and put it where it has been all my life — inches from my left hand at my principal work area) entitled “The Three Major Food Groups” by Stuart Fink. The sculpture is done in tinted and cast concrete; it has hung in our kitchen for 17 years. Fish’s companions are three chickens hanging by their feet and a pig.
(Reminders: Get the signed copyright license back from Stuart; and have a great professional photo taken of the entire sculpture.)
If you know Stuart, you will understand immediately his perception of the three major food groups. Stuart, we are so sorry that you could not be with us during the holidays. As you can imagine, we told many of the old stories as we thought and laughed about our times together.
Chickens and Pig should be making their debut here soon.
Traditionally, the New Year is a time to look forward, to make resolutions, to plan for a better future. In its most essential sense, this blog is about just those things. On this first day of the blog, the new year and my new career, however, I want to look back and recognize few of the people I may have forgotten to say something important to:
- My family — Your immediate and enthusiastic adoption of my business adventure brightened the days when I was having second thoughts and self-doubt. Keep the ideas and suggestions coming; there are certainly a few more dark days ahead. I don’t say it often enough — I love each and every one of you.
- My former clients — Thank you for the privilege of serving you and your businesses. You gave me the opportunity to see first-hand how excellent businesses are built. I hope I added half as much value to your businesses as working with you enriched my knowledge, skill and understanding.
- My lawyer, investment banker and other professional counterparts — Over the many years, I learned more about problem solving from watching you deal with your clients, my clients and me than from any other source. I cannot express how much I appreciate the professional relationships we developed.
- My young friends — You are all young enough to be the children I never had. When I spend time with you, I don’t feel old. Rather, I feel young enough to take on a challenge more appropriate for a much younger man.
- A new acquaintance — In our very first conversation, you told me a story about your father. He abandoned a hobby about which he was passionate. Years later, he explained that when he worked, he thought about the other passion; and when engaged in his other passion, he thought about work. He knew one of them had to go and only the work had the prospects for paying the rent. That story crystallized my thoughts that perhaps my other passion could pay the rent.
- A special young colleague — One of my great joys of the last year or so has been to watch you grow in both knowledge and confidence. I am saddened that I will no longer see your continued development on a daily basis nor participate directly in it. Understand, however, that I will know instantly each time you are tempted to violate Rule 1 of Strunk and White.
- The few friends with whom I shared early glimpses — You could have called me crazy. But you didn’t.
- My two pseudo big sisters — You adopted me and I you, one many years ago and the other more recently. You are so different from one another, yet your similarities are often shocking to me. In the coming year, I wish you both continued professional satisfaction and personal happiness. Know that I will be along for the journey, if only in spirit.
- Jean-Robert — Your passion for life and and everything in life is contagious. Thank you for infecting me. I could say much more, but that would be too much like us.
- My wife — You were my mentor then closest friend before we ever fell in love. Your support and encouragement have been unfailing for more than thirty years. None of what I have accomplished would have been possible without you. Thank you for loving me.
Happy New Year!
Traditionally, the New Year is a time to look forward, to make resolutions, to plan for a better future. In its most essential sense, this blog is about just those things. On this first day of the blog, the new year and my new career, however, I want to look back and recognize few of the people I may have forgotten to say something important to:
- My family — Your immediate and enthusiastic adoption of my business adventure brightened the days when I was having second thoughts and self-doubt. Keep the ideas and suggestions coming; there are certainly a few more dark days ahead. I don’t say it often enough — I love each and every one of you.
- My former clients — Thank you for the privilege of serving you and your businesses. You gave me the opportunity to see first-hand how excellent businesses are built. I hope I added half as much value to your businesses as working with you enriched my knowledge, skill and understanding.
- My lawyer, investment banker and other professional counterparts — Over the many years, I learned more about problem solving from watching you deal with your clients, my clients and me than from any other source. I cannot express how much I appreciate the professional relationships we developed.
- My young friends — You are all young enough to be the children I never had. When I spend time with you, I don’t feel old. Rather, I feel young enough to take on a challenge more appropriate for a much younger man.
- A new acquaintance — In our very first conversation, you told me a story about your father. He abandoned a hobby about which he was passionate. Years later, he explained that when he worked, he thought about the other passion; and when engaged in his other passion, he thought about work. He knew one of them had to go and only the work had the prospects for paying the rent. That story crystallized my thoughts that perhaps my other passion could pay the rent.
- A special young colleague — One of my great joys of the last year or so has been to watch you grow in both knowledge and confidence. I am saddened that I will no longer see your continued development on a daily basis nor participate directly in it. Understand, however, that I will know instantly each time you are tempted to violate Rule 1 of Strunk and White.
- The few friends with whom I shared early glimpses — You could have called me crazy. But you didn’t.
- My two pseudo big sisters — You adopted me and I you, one many years ago and the other more recently. You are so different from one another, yet your similarities are often shocking to me. In the coming year, I wish you both continued professional satisfaction and personal happiness. Know that I will be along for the journey, if only in spirit.
- Jean-Robert — Your passion for life and and everything in life is contagious. Thank you for infecting me. I could say much more, but that would be too much like us.
- My wife — You were my mentor then closest friend before we ever fell in love. Your support and encouragement have been unfailing for more than thirty years. None of what I have accomplished would have been possible without you. Thank you for loving me.
Happy New Year!
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