The venerable old Wall Street Journal asks: Where Did All The Cheap Restaurants Go?
More of an observation than anything, but the only way to make money in the lower-end establishments is volume.
High volume.
It cures all ills on the Profit and Loss Statement:
It lowers labor cost.
It lowers operating costs.
It lowers food cost.
It lowers your blood pressure.
It increases sales.
It provides a higher net profit for which the management team is remunerated.
It actually improves employee morale.
Employee incentives and opportunities provide you with a hard-working, motivated group of people that actually show up to work more times than they call-in!
The so-called “cheap” restaurants had their products escalate in price; hence their food cost is higher, decreasing profit margin..
Tipped employees all got their minimum wages increased, so the labor cost increased, further decreasing profit margin.
Tariffs.
My evolution to fine dining saw me learning techniques of true French Masters, a la Auguste Escoffier and Paul Bocuse.
It also released me from the “silly confines” of costs in the kitchen.
My chefs always taught me that you had to know when you balance the food costs on a daily and nightly basis over your product mix to achieve your financial goals, adjusting anything and everything else but the original ingredients and recipes.
As far as old dudes go, let’s hear it for Dee Snider, frontman of the successful 80’s hair band Twisted Sister.
Finally.
An old rocker who knew when it was time to pull the plug.
He knows there is only a finite number of times he can wedge his flabby, old man’s ass into those spandex pants, so he bowed out gracefully, retiring from touring.
See ya on the golf course…
It looks like the president finally tired of trying to avoid looking like a global clown with his campaign to “take over” the country of Greenland.
Too late.
If you have read my posts long enough, you know that I am an equal-opportunity potshot-taker.
No one is safe from my words.
Democrats.
Republicans.
Politicians.
World figures.
Celebrities.
News participants.
No one.
So take it for what it is.
An old stoner’s view of things as he approaches the sundown of his life.
Ya gotta give it to him…
The president says he is “proud” of the nation’s economy.”
I can relate.
I know the exact same feeling.
I took a squat and I was “proud” that it decided to leave my body at that time.
Another New York politician, a Republican (gasp!), was one of the first to call the president’s post of Michelle and Barack Obama racist and call for its removal.
Ya think?
So you’re telling me there IS such a thing as a Republican who knows the basic tenets of right and wrong, criminal-vs-legal and smart-vs-stupid?
Amazing.
Alert the media.
In closing, here is my recap of last night’s Super Bowl:
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Don’t let the final score of 29-13 fool you.
I have seen every one of the 60 Super Bowls played via television and two of them live.
This game was a defensive masterpiece on the part of the Seattle Seahawks through three quarters.
Impenetrable is the word that comes to mind.
Only a couple of defensive farts by the Seattle secondary and a couple courageous throws by New England quarterback Drake Maye provided a much tighter score than the actual game play indicated.
Drake Maye of the New England Patriots was getting crushed all night from the four-man rush of Seattle’s defensive line.
Crushed is a polite way of putting it.
How about six sacks, 11 hits on the quarterback, two interceptions and a fumble?
You can’t win using that formula.
As far as halftime, I ended up watching Mean Rabbit , er Bad Bunny, and my honest review is that he is not very good.
It is not my favorite genre, but believe me, it takes some one with soul, an internal driving beat if you will, to rap.
To string together just the right words in just the right order in just the right rhythm in just the right beat and cadence is fucking HARD.
Otherwise anyone would rap.
But Bad Bunny looked more comfortable trying to seduce his audience with words spoken, not rapped, and I found my attention waning by the minute. He needs to attend the School of Rap and take lessons in rhythm from Professor Snoop Dogg and lessons on smoothing the hotties from Professor LL. Cool J.
He’s not the first Latin rapper and I would take Gerardo from the nineties (remember Rico Sauve?) over this imposter any day, any decade.
So we have to wait another year until the next Super Bowl and the perennial drama and controversy which seem to accompany the game.
Congratulations to the World Champion Seattle Seahawks!
Stay well.
