From Raleigh to Boston

So it turns out the Raleigh-Durham area is a huge improvement over the Houston area.  I didn't make friends with any Indian liquor store clerks but I'll get over that soon enough.  I did find Schlitz beer in six pack cans.  This quite possibly might be the high point of my lower 48 adventures.  The story of Schlitz is one of greatness followed by crushing failure and now decades later a resurgence under the ownership of our friends at Pabst Brewing.  I suggest everyone look it up and take pride in American heritage.  

While in Raleigh Dave, Laura, Stef, Carrie, and I went to a barbecue joint.  We were greeted by a large black man.  His first question was regarding whether we had been there before and upon learning that we hadn't he laid out samples of his available barbecue: pulled pork, ribs, and chicken.  While introducing us to his side dishes he quietly but proudly mention that he is the owner and cook.  I had the pulled pork, the collared greens, barbecue stew, and hush puppies.  I could not stop eating until the entire pile had disappeared from my plate.  The next day while driving north to Boston we stopped at McDonald's for a quick lunch.  It was the contrast of these two meals which finally brought to light for me the definitive reason I dislike chains.  The reason why that connoisseur of barbecue is content and full of pride in his work and his life is simply because his work provides him with this.  He can look back on the long day spent preparing and serving his food with a great feeling of pride and accomplishment because it is his.  The work is his, the recipe is his, the building is his.  He is surrounded by the fruits of his own labor.  In contrast the chain restaurant or store is owned by some crusty old white guy at a desk in New York smiling at his profits.  The cooks have no attachment to the building or the food other than minimum wage.  There is no pride nurtured through work, no looking back on the day and feeling like you have accomplished anything.  You and all your co-workers go through the day as a drone, serving more drones steadily working their way through the lines at the register, expecting nothing but meager sustenance.  Even the franchised chains with a local owner are truly no better.  The owner may have put up the capital to "buy" the restaurant but they aren't truly the owners.  They are responsible in a financial way but have no room for creativity, no room for truly making the place their own.  It is a place of crushed dreams and bitter souls.