Mike Literman

I made it. Here’s how it went down…

We all met at a restaurant that in retrospect, I wish that I had eaten at. Probably because I’m hungry now. Either way, my friend Jerid and I met up with the Failures’ Union, loaded up the van and were on our way. First stop, treats and gas. We stopped at the Indian reservation where all they sold was cigarettes, 80%, and snacks 20%. It was pretty sad. Onward.

We got in the car and started eating a cake I had brought from the night before. We polished off all but one piece, threw our forks in the box and kept on going.

Second stop, Subway. Why not?

Third stop…did we have a third stop? I don’t think that we did. Third stop might have actually been Cincinnati. Let’s say that it was an continue on.

So we’re in Cincinnati. Unload all the equipment into this crust punk basement, the Failures’ Union rock, and we pack up and head to Kentucky. Did you know that Cincinnati is 3 miles from Kentucky? I didn’t. Did you know that it gets to be ten degrees in Kentucky? I didn’t. We stayed at some guys house that The Cheap Girls, the band Failures’ Union is on tour with, stayed at before. He was nice, his wife was nice, his dog was nice. His house was cold. I’m an idiot and didn’t bring a pillow or sleeping bag so I ended up sleeping on the floor, fully clothed, shoes and all, with a large knit quilt that felt more like a fish net than a blanket. Needless to say, it was a long, sleepless night.

Jerid and I had to get up and out at 9 to leave to go back home, so we got up, sadly, and then headed on our way. First stop gas, second stop, Waffle House. My first one. After a waffle, oj, and my first serving of grits, we headed back on the road. Six hours later, we arrived. Completely unscathed and completely exhausted.

We parked the van and went out separate ways. I went home and in an hour was asleep. It was around 5:30pm when I got home.

Check in all this week and next week (3.3.09 – 3.17.09) for my photos of the trip.

So I’m pretty excited. I’m going on tour, well one show, with my friends The Failures’ Union. I love these guys and if you don’t own “Sinker”, get it, and you’re welcome in advance. We’re going to Cincinnati and then my friend Jerid and I are driving home. The only question that Jerid asked is:

“Are you a hater on Waffle House?”

to which I responded:

“Who the hell hates waffles? I only hate Waffle House if you will not go to a White Castle.”

Response?

“Plan on stopping at both if there is a sighting.”

Needless to say, this weekend is going to be awesome, we’re going to eat terrible food, and Failures’ Union is going to play a killer show. I hope that I can get a bowl of Cincinnati chili. My uncle makes it and it’s nothing short of incredible. Wish us luck!

This weekend alone, I must have talked about opening three different restaurants. You think that I learned my lesson.

My first job was at a bakery. I washed dishes and that was a terrible job. My hats off to anyone who does that. It just baked goods and shipped them out so for a whole weekend, it was just dish on top of dish. Once we got a dishwasher, we were never allowed to use it because it cost too much money to run, something like 50 cents a run. I suppose that ads up, but it defiantly wasn’t that much more than I was getting paid, something like $3.75/hr. On top of that, once the boss saw what giant sandwiches my co-worker and I were making, he was charging us like $5 a week, a week in which I only worked about 6 hours, for sandwiches. That being said, out sandwiches would have cost us over $20 each so we got our moneys worth. I hated food service from then out out…but apparently not enough.

My second job was at a sub shop. Better than my previous job, I used to actually frequent this establishment when I didn’t work. This job was good with the exception of me only working one day a week. That was bogus. Only Fridays. I kicked butt, too. I never understood why they didn’t bring me along during the week. Those subs were good and I feel that I was good at it. I think that I got that job as a 16th birthday present. I worked there for about three months and since they didn’t give me any more hours, there was no point in me staying.

Onward into my eclectic job history, I worked for three summers at the drive in. That job was awesome. I didn’t mind the food service, but I also got to do security as well as a bunch of other random jobs. I worked my ass of there and got paid a fraction of what I felt I deserved. Early mornings and late nights and I was still broke. It’s literally the story of my life to date. You’d think that I’d do something about it.

Which brings me onto the point. I’d love to open my own place. I love cooking with friends and for people. I don’t even care about who the people are, I just like to cook. I feel that I know enough about business to open my own place. I done book keeping before and logging, scheduling, hiring, etc. I don’t think that I’ve ever fired someone, but I’ve yelled at employees at work before. I’ve got management experience, too.

I don’t know what the place would be based on, food genre, that is. I’ve thought of a pizza place, Chinese/American fusion, and many more. I just want to do it. If anyone is looking for a parter as a restaurant entrepreneur, please look no further.

Picture it. You turn 14. You’re a typical male who is in, what would that be, 8th grade? We’ll say 8th grade. It’s your birthday and your mom says, “Hey, you want to have your birthday at the arcade?” and you decide that is the best day of your life. This actually happened to me. I don’t remember the actual age I was, but I had a birthday and me and like 7 of my friends went to the arcade and played all day. It was amazing. I know I’m not the only one. Birthday parties and arcades used to go hand in hand when I was a kid.

So here’s the question. Did consoles kill the arcade? There is no feeling like going to the arcade and playing kids that you just met in games that you tried to be the best at. I’m awful at fighting games, so I never played any sweet Street Fighter tournaments. I don’t regret it. I know that a lot of my friends were great at it and had fun at the arcades. So was it the console or was it the porting of arcade games to the console. Difference between the two? The console has games that you can play at home, bringing you home from the arcade for more, different gaming. Porting games renders the arcade virtually obsolete since you don’t need to walk around with quarters in your pocket. What’s strange is that when the Atari 2600 came out, they had the original Mario Bros and Donkey Kong and those were arcade classics and the arcade was fine after that. Strange. That being said, there’s nothing like going into an arcade with $10 and living it up.

I went to the arcade last week and it was packed. It was awesome. Dates and singles and groups just having a good time. I personally like racing games. Simulation style where you can sit in the driver’s seat and drive. The arcade I went to had 8, maybe 10 side-by-side Daytona USA simulation cabinets and they were packed all night. I jumped into a couple of other kids games just to play other people and it was awesome.

I know it’s too late now, and there’s nothing that I can do about it, but if you take anything from this, remember this…

Don’t forget to tell your kids that at one time, people from all parts got together at one place to play different games together rather than sit down in a room with a controller. Tell them tales of the quarter queues. Tell them of all the different versions of Street Fighter II. Tell them how mad your opponents got when you used Liu Kang to uppercut them into that pit of spikes. Oh man. I miss arcades.

In the best way possible. I promise. It’s come to my attention and I hope to pass this sentiment to all white people. Here goes…

I’m jealous of you, black people. African Americans. I mean this in the most sincere of ways. I will use the following stereotypes to illustrate my point.

Some of us white people seem to have a problem with the way that you conduct yourselves in social situations. I think that the issue is that we just don’t get it, but I get it, and I am jealous.

At church

You’re always so animated. Yelling, dancing, singing, fainting. I don’t go to church. I don’t believe in anything and I don’t care. Religion is a non-issue to me, but to those that don’t feel the same, apathetic way, listen up. African Americans feel it. I mean it. They let the situation penetrate their lives and souls and don’t care about the other people around. You know when you’re listening to a song and a really awesome breakdown comes up and you just can’t help but air drum to it? Black people will, and have a richer life because of it.

At movies

I love black people at movies. Yelling at the screen. You know you want to, white people, but you don’t. Guess who is going to leave emotionally exhausted and tired like they just had an experience. Black people will, and that’s awesome. I go to the movies, sit there, laugh a little bit, and leave. I only wanted to see Notorious with black people because I know that it would have been an entirely different experience than watching it in a boring, white theatre.

Out in public

I love black people in headphones. Singings. Dancing. Oh man, the amount of black women I see dancing in stores and restaurants is through the roof now a days. You don’t dance when you’re sad. You don’t sing when you’re sad. All happy times, and keep it up. Us white people should learn a thing or two from you and dance more in public. Who’s to say that we can’t? So we can’t dance? It doesn’t matter. That’s not what it’s about. When something is funny, black people are animated and show emotion. Laughing just isn’t enough sometimes.

So there you have it. Black people are awesome. I wish I had black friends.