I have always been a fan of adventure stories. Movies, books, video games ie: The Indiana Jones saga, Dan Brown novels, Harry Potter, and the Legend of Zelda series… I love following our hero through their trials, tribulations, and challenges. Knowing that everything is going to work out in the end, makes watching the pain and struggle unfold on the screen or on paper much easier.
Consider the ridiculous mine cart sequence in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. The cart keeps gaining speed, wheels teetering on brink of disaster as Indy and crew go careening through the dark, rocky tunnels, fleeing on for their lives — at one point on just two wheels — dangling over canyons of seething lava, all the while fighting off bad guys, depositing roadblocks behind them, flying off (and back on) the tracks… one of those classic Indy scenes where it’s just one thing after another, then ANOTHER, and you’re thinking, “Are you KIDDING? What ELSE can happen? How much longer can this go on?”
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You know that feeling you have when you are dangling at the tippy top of that first gigantic roller coaster hill, ready to plunge into a powerless, screaming frenzy? The gut instinct that you have for a split second when you think, “What have I done? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m stuck here and I want off!” Yeah…that feeling?
My family and I were there. For 7 years.
….well that’s not entirely true. It’s not like I dangled there for long….I actually TOOK that plunge, because clearly there was no getting off The Ride; it just kept going, and going. Instead of stopping at the nice, safe flat platform where I got on, The Ride would taunt me by slowing down to a crawl so I could see the sad expressions on faces of the people I know and love, waiting for me as I went by, then sped up…blowing right by every time. Again and again, I found myself dangling up there on those skinny rails, high above the safe ground, eyes wide with terror as I gazed down at yet another “yin” to the last “yang” –whatever it happened to be. Up and down, up and down, never getting ahead, never getting to rest; and watching the rest of the world go by at every loop… back to the beginning.
Funny, I don’t remember dropping that darned mirror, but I must have.
7 years.
I can’t even describe what 7 years of “bad luck” is like (though I am aware I’m preaching to the choir in this day and age)—because it’s not just the story, it’s the feeling. The sick, no-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel feeling of hopelessness, and in my case, the pictures. The vivid, blankety-blank movies that play incessantly in my mind. I’m a visual person, so every situation becomes an analogy in the form of some stupid tormenting cartoon, eating away at my soul.
Owning a restaurant, we knew, would be a full-time+ job. We didn’t, however, expect it to be the 24/7/362 ½ affair that it was. We warned each new employee that their jobs would be replete with multitasking. The natural way our business worked would have otherwise called for about 4 times as many employees who would spend 75% of their time standing around with nothing to do — it’s just the way it was. There was much territory to cover with a pizzeria/café, lunch and dinner buffet and salad bar, ice cream parlor, party rooms, arcade room, numerous private parties, take out orders, deliveries, catering, our mobile kitchen, banquets, and school orders.
There were, of course, times when it was great to have a place for friends and family to gather. Our son and a group of his friends from marching band were fixtures until very late after every Friday night home game. I am thankful they had a safe place to hang out (we had more parents than I can count thank us for that) and for the good times they had.
But the beauty of being a business owner and employer (she declares, quite tongue-in-cheek), is getting the raw end of the deal when people decided to call off — legit, or not (frequently, not). No matter how tired, sick, or otherwise-occupied we were …..not only did we have our regular ownership duties which accounted for most of our time anyway, plus jumping in to help when times were busy (and in my case, doing all of the advertising and creation of artwork, ads, specials, etc.); we, ourselves, many times multi-multitasked as “the fill-in”. The show must go on; and and go on, it did. So twice a day: at open, and at the afternoon shift change, I waited to see if I would be…cooking, prepping food, waiting tables, bussing, answering phones, washing dishes… Then I’d wait to see which employee would decide they needed to leave early, so I would also have to help clean up and close the store too. Sometimes the lines of who works for whom certainly were blurry! This is not unusual, if you talk to any independent restaurateur, but nothing really prepares you for it. At times, especially when we were in the hiring or training phases which inevitably came, this could have been true for BOTH shifts. So, that meant at least 12 hours of doing someone else’s job, plus running the business, doing inventory and placing orders, running 25 miles in opposite directions for food supplies, dealing with vendors, creating ads, offers, getting things printed or inserted into publications, planning special events, catering…oh yeah…then there was the whole HOME & FAMILY thing. After spending upwards of 18 hours a day in some cases, we came home to a house that needed to have laundry done, dishes washed, cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, mowing, weeds pulled, snow shoveled, litter boxes scooped, pets fed, bills paid — running to school functions at the very last second, then having to step out of school concerts to take emergency phone calls from the store … then there were family celebrations, birthdays, etc. that were celebrated after hours (usually after midnight) for YEARS.
If we had the nerve to vent our frustration, people might either rub it in our faces saying that we “chose” it—or it was “what we wanted”. I’m here to tell you that, unless someone is a glutton for punishment, NO ONE would choose to live like that. More understanding folks would say “I don’t know HOW you do it”…well, neither did I. When life deals you a hand, you do what you have to do, and play it as best you can; and I am forever grateful to the stand-out over-achievers with whom we were blessed over the years (and they know why they are); who appreciated what we tried to do, who stepped in, stepped up, and allowed us to occasionally, step out.
Most people look forward to Fridays….the “TGIF” schtick. We dreaded Fridays. As anyone who has owned a weekend-focused business will also tell you, there is nothing to look forward to but lots and lots of work. The early part of the week is typically slow for restaurants, which is why you see so many deals offered to “come out on Monday or Tuesday”. The early part of the week was all about preparing for the end of the week, and stewing about business being slow early in the week. When the weekend came, it was so busy that we were utterly exhausted. An endless cycle.
Once at an annual food distributor’s trade show, I actually won an all-expenses paid luxurious trip to California wine country. It was so out of the ordinary for me to even be OUT of the restaurant, that when I was called from the hundreds of attendees up to the stage on the top deck of the river boat casino, I stood in complete numbness. In front of my applauding fellow owner-operators, I feigned excitement at winning the generous gift, knowing full well that we would not be able to take the time to accept it. I’ll confess that I went back to my hotel room, and did not rejoice at my unbelievable luck; but instead sobbed myself to sleep at the cruel dangling of a delicious, impractical carrot which would never be grabbed with our responsibilities and the newness of the business.
In my stupid mind-movie I saw myself and the business as old time washing machine with a crank. My right hand was attached 24/7 to the handle of the rusty old crank. I couldn’t leave the place I stood; a prisoner in my own store. There was no “automatic” button, no “energy saver mode”, and I had to hug my son, my husband, my family and friends — do everything when I could, with my left, my subordinate, hand — and there WAS nothing left …of me.
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I heard someone mention the other day that they were going on sabbatical. What a concept, thought I!
According to Wikipedia: “a sabbatical year is defined as a year of rest, usually the seventh year, like the shabbat, which is the seventh day of the week.”
Apparently we were even a year late for our year of rest.
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When we finally moved on to a less stressful, more maintenance-free route by transforming into a catering and events only business, we suddenly found ourselves with a lot more free time and the inevitable reintegration into society. As The Shawshank Redemption’s “Red” was faced with either breaking his parole or following in the path of his friend Brooks (who couldn’t handle his new-found freedom), it was time to “Get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’”. There’s no irony in my quoting from a prison movie …it had felt like one.
It was very difficult, and still is several months later, to get back into the routine of doing “normal” things; having time to do simple household chores, cooking meals at home, getting back into activities at church, spending time with friends and family….and back to the treadmill….the literal one. Finally time to choose to be ON one rather than LIVING ON one.
But I can’t seem to totally give up the multitasking just yet. It’s silly, the things I find myself trying to accomplish while on the treadmill. I still need to multitask to get the most from my too-short time spent there. I’ve got my laptop precariously perched on a nearby bookshelf, brainstorming, typing myself text memos into my phone, reading a book while walking, or listening to an eclectic playlist of music. Curiously, I also notice that I can’t help but walk to the beat of the music–whatever it happens to be. The conveyor belt speed determines my pace, but introduce the music to the mix and my inability to keep from walking to the beat forces me to ALSO match my pace musically —to unintentionally take extra-long strides or speed up double-time to stroll to the beat…besides whatever else I’m doing.
Funny how a crazy mix of factors can force you into a tougher challenge than you expected; and which can occupy so much of your attention ….and sounds so ridiculous to others. (Cue the irony HERE.)
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In Indy’s third adventure (and my personal favorite), Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, the culmination of the epic tale takes place in the Canyon of the Crescent Moon inside the temple where the Holy Grail found its resting place. Professor Henry Jones had spent his life researching the grail, and in his diary had recorded his findings on the three challenges one would have to face to reach it. He scolds Indy, “The quest for the grail is not archeology, it’s a race against evil.”
In the last challenge, “The Breath of God”: only a leap from the lion’s head, shall he prove his worth, the head of a lion is carved in the rock overlooking a black and bottomless cavern which separates Indy from the room with the grail. He has to “believe” to complete the challenge. At this point, all archaeological bets are off; he needs the grail to save his father’s life. He closes his eyes, places his hand over his heart, takes a deep breath, and steps forward into sheer nothingness. In this heart-stopping, heroic second, his foot falls solidly onto a previously invisible narrow solid-rock bridge crossing the chasm. This chilling scene always has stuck with me as a powerful metaphor –so much so, that we even used the “Lion’s Head” concept in the development of the corporation for our businesses.
A leap of faith. As we’ve discovered; just because you have the faith to take the narrow path, does not necessarily mean it will be easy, or even the destination for your life. Rather, faith may take you on a side journey which has been placed before only you — one which you are meant to take — perhaps to offer opportunities to others, and gain enlightenment for yourself.
In the end, Indiana Jones proves
his worth by letting the grail go. And just before they ride off into the sunset, Indy asks his father, “What did you find?”
Professor Henry Jones replies, “Illumination.”
“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it. (Matthew 7:13, 14 NIV)
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Julianne Moore
- Artist/Designer
- Owner of Da Vinci’s Marketing: facebook.com/davincismarketing
- Owner of Da Vinci’s Market Catering & Events: davincismarket.com
- All content, artwork and photography © Julianne B. Moore and Da Vinci’s Marketing
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