ESOP or Restaurant Rethink

 

Po Boy views

By

Phil LaMancusa

ESOP

Or

Restaurant Re-think

        You DID know that some of the more successful companies in America are owned by the workers themselves (investopedia.com)? Some of these companies have multiple locations, with many employees, raking in beaucoup dollars and not hurting for staff that is willing and able to work for themselves for themselves. Some are food service and restaurant companies. What would it take for New Orleans local restaurants and businesses to think outside the box and applying this strategy for success and survival? Perhaps no one has thought of it? Not necessarily; multiple examples were set here over a half century ago, nowadays it could be chalked up to intransigence that keeps our economy and industries near comatose. Or maybe it’s the ‘I-Me-Me-Mine’ mentality that dissuades a company owned business from realizing that without workers that are dedicated selfishly to success, they have to ride herd on less than enthusiastic workers every day that they are operational.

        There are companies (including restaurant companies) that have given workers a say cooperatively in the running of THEIR business; giving them a pony in the race, you might say. There are a couple of places in New Orleans that are trying this philosophy out using a couple of different methods from the twentieth century that seemed radical then by simply realizing that it IS the Twenty-first century and it’s worth it to give it a shot. Let’s face it, at times survival depends on innovation; the willingness to take an existing strategy and bump it up. Why not try?

        Let’s put some lipstick on this pig. Say you have a small business, your staff adores you and your democratic/empathetic attitude toward them and their welfare; you don’t have staff, you have disciples. How many companies can say that? They see your vision and have made it a priority in their life for you to succeed; they have strived with you in hard times and now the light at the end of the tunnel is stability and not an oncoming train. You really want them to share in what you (with their help) have achieved. Do you give them a raise? Health benefits? A gym membership? A picture of Ben Franklin on a three by six piece of green paper? A big old sloppy kiss?

        Nah, you gather them together, maybe over dinner and drinks, and you say: “You know what kids? I could not have done this without you; without your dedication and loyalty! Would any of you mind if we formed an LLC in all of our names and went into business together? Yay, team!!

        Seem farfetched? Hard to imagine? It is, and no one in their right mind would dare think of doing something as crazy stupid as that, right? Heard of Bob’s Red Mill products? King Arthur flour products? It’s called ESOP (Employee Stock Ownership Plan). There’s Publix Super Markets; Brookshire Brothers Grocery Stores; Acadian Ambulance; examples from poultry processing to manufacturing to engineering firms; healthcare; supermarkets and construction companies all employee owned. Didn’t register on your radar? There are hundreds and hundreds, from who you buy your beer from (craftbeer.com) to where you dine out (jamesbeard.org), the numbers are rising. Obviously their workers believe that it’s better than just punching a heartless clock.

        Okay, look, you don’t just GIVE your company away; in some cases a worker has to show up a certain number of shifts a month to qualify; also a period of employment (say six months to a year) might be a requirement. It’s not like some Yayhoo can walk in off the street and become a stockholder, plus peer pressure would insure that only the right person would fit your/their owner attitude image. The Democracy At Work Institute defines a worker owned co-op as a “value driven business that puts worker and community at the core of its purpose”.

        Listen, I once had a restaurant with a partner that wasn’t compatible and sold my half to him. He ran the place into the ground, before he could manage to pay me and I stepped back in, to retrieve my money and found that his mismanagement of staff was at the core of up and coming failure. The staff and I worked our asses off to right the sinking venture and we did; to make a long story short, after six months we bought my partner’s share (for me) and I was so moved that I GAVE the restaurant to THEM. In fact, we had grown, through our collective efforts, to value and appreciate each other so much that we rented a big enough space so that we could all move in together. Had it not been for the landlord burning down the building we might still be together. And that was here in New Orleans! (albeit 50 years ago)

         Should you do it? I don’t recommend it. It takes a lot of work to be altruistic and self-effacing to that degree; it’s much easier to be a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ owner. You get to boss people around; hire and fire; give workers weird schedules that may conflict with their life and do it with aplomb. Drink up the profits if you want to; flirt with the staff; have someone else clean up after you; suspect everyone of stealing and give favors to whoever is best at kissing your ass and living up to YOUR standards and decisions no matter how inane they may be. It’s rough to be called to task by someone that is washing dishes, waiting on tables or writing checks to purveyors just because you reserved the right to “change plans at any time you deem appropriate” (Elon Musk). It’s difficult to be told by the janitor that your attitude and actions are counterproductive.

        Better to be a boss, I say. Why share? You’re no messiah; besides, who likes you that much anyway?  

Hope fiend

 

Po Boy Views

By

Phil LaMancusa

Hope Fiend

Or

I Don’t Get It

        “Breaking away to the other side, I wanna make sense of why we live and die; I don’t get it: I don’t get it; I don’t get it.” wails Margo Timmins of the Cowboy Junkies. When I hear that, my mind also wails, twenty-two percent of the time or 4.5%.

        We’ve become a society of facts, figures and statistics adrift and seeking to find a foothold in our collective semi-conscious mental states of ennui: 45 million people affected by a cold front; 50% chance of an earthquake; Senator Fancy pants has an approval rating of 42% and the interest rate goes up again ¾ of a point. Aaron Judge (Jersey #99) hits home run number 62 this season (making 220 career) and makes history but Barry Bonds (#s 24, 25) still holds the record of 762. The Dow Jones has slipped and the S&P has fallen; “and the race is on and here comes pride on the outside…”

        Somalia car bomb kills 100, wounds 400; Seoul, Korea stampede kills 150 injures hundreds; a bridge collapses in India kills 141; the Palestinians fighting the Jews, 16 dead; Ukraine staving off another invasion and people are dying by the thousands; a gunman opens fire in an elementary school and slaughters in double digits; millions are starving in Africa; hurricane Ian is the hardest to hit Florida since 1935. And we head into 2023 with the same hope as 2022: “Dear Lord, please make this a better year”; the Devil chuckles and I get to use another semicolon.

        The Book of Revelations lists the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse as Conquest, War, Famine and Death; it seems that there is a Fifth Horseman and it is us, and for no apparent reason, we still hope for better times. Sometimes it makes me want to throw up. The odds are against us eight to five and climbing.

        Buddha’s Brain wants us to practice the science of happiness, peace and wisdom and still we raise animals to slaughter; we poison our bodies, minds and environment; we send our children into harm’s way and for no apparent reason we hope for the best in our lives and for our loved ones. I don’t get it. We believe and follow leaders that only serve themselves and the highest bidder keeping them in office by voting for the loudest voice or someone who talks as smooth as cream cheese on a bagel. We know the names of the players on our local football team better that those of our representatives in congress. Our attention span and reading levels are…. what was I gonna say? Oh, just this: we’re acting like we’re stupid and we know it.

        Renouncing ego seems the way to go; however, in this dog eat dog rat race where we work like beavers just to keep our head above water when we’re up to our asses in alligators; it’s hard to remember that our goal was to join in the Peace River Freedom Swim.

        Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, what’s to keep us from going emotionally comatose when it all seem to be an uphill battle; how are we to maintain a positive outlook on life? Hope. Hope and the way we view life, the Universe and everything; not taking our quality for life for granted and uniquely subjective. Realizing that everything is relative like the sun and the moon and the stars; and how we react to a beautiful sunset or the tiniest of flowers could possibly bring about world peace.

        Some wise guy said “I will tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven” implying that the way that we’re living should not be our default PDF state. Chew on that a moment.  

        Here’s the point; in the quest to relieve the adverse effects that bring about disappointment, disillusionment, heartache, misery and soul sucking pain in our lives because of greed and ego, we collectively are advised to follow these three simple steps to achieve a happy and forever existence: Right Thought, Right Speech and Right Action (a practical guideline for ethical and mental development designed to free us from attachments and delusions).

        Think about it. If you don’t have anything good to say, shut the pie hole; swallow that negativity and eventually you’ll begin to stop your negative thoughts (not as simple as it sounds, and it takes a lot of practice). Once you’ve gone beyond the keeping your mouth shut and follow up with thinking pleasanter thoughts, you’ll find your outlook on life changing and indeed, your very life and actions.

        Listen, you don’t wake up with a hangover, in a strange bed with a three legged dog, an empty bourbon bottle and a mouth that tastes like a garbage truck has emptied itself on you; tongue asleep, itchy teeth and you remember not only are you still living with your mother, but you vaguely recall calling up your employer last night and telling them to stick your job and salary where the sun don’t shine. When that happens to you…again, you may want to consider the concept of cause and effect.

        You don’t just happen to wake up naked across the hood of your car with the ignition key stuck in your butt without it (situations) starting somewhere with the exact wrong decision that you’ve made before but refused to learn because you didn’t think, thought that it was gonna be fun or this time you hoped the outcome would be different. You don’t get it, do you? Hope is not enough.

        It’s 2023 folks; time to wake ourselves and the world up and get our act together because this world, with you in it, is going to hell in a hand basket and no one can save it but you (and you, and you and me) Get it? Got it? Good.

          

 

Dead Restaurants in New Orleans

 

Po Boy Views

By

Phil LaMancusa

I Restauranti Morti

Or

Dead Cafés

        March 11^th 2020 the World Health Organization (WHO) declared COVID-19 the disease caused by the SARS-CoV-2, a pandemic. March 15, 2020 states begin to implement shutdowns in order to prevent the spread. The shutdowns included schools, commerce, the service industry, trade and other retail businesses considered ‘inessential’; about two years later, one million Americans were dead and so was food and beverage (‘from farm to tombstone’, as they say). In the country in general and in New Orleans specifically, the thin line between effort and reward was quickly erased.

        Immediately if not sooner, the government began a program called the Pandemic Unemployment Assistance, The American Rescue Plan Coronavirus Aid, Relief and Economic Security Act which put money into the pockets of workers affected by not having any work to go to. 43 agencies took part in giving nearly $4,000,000,000,000.00 to keep folks in food, clothing and shelter. The Paycheck Protection Program gave away no cost loans to “essential” businesses that needed to remain open so that folks could spend that gravy from the government train; unfortunately with the pandemic worldwide the supply chain came off the rails and “essential” goods and services came to a standstill along with wholesale household, food, electronic and repair supplies. Rent, mortgage, insurance and utility bills DID keep coming and restaurants in New Orleans fell like circus clowns in a mud pool rope pulling contest.

        Just when light appeared at the end of a long dark tunnel along came hurricane Ida and every eatery ate dirt; multiple closings (and re-openings) during erratic/sporadic COVID lockdown periods took a financial toll everywhere. Some restaurants never got back to their knees, let alone feet; as one owner put it “I’ve reopened, shut down, reopened and shut down again and lost entire inventories and staff four times and (sigh) I just can’t do it anymore; I’m throwing in the towel.”

        Some managed to hang on for six or eight months; however, many eateries are not many payrolls away from bankruptcy. Many an entrepreneur will tell you that the best way to go broke is to open a restaurant; the mortality rate is one of the highest of endeavors. For large and (especially) small eateries the prognosis was obvious: if the supply chain, labor shortages, pandemic restrictions, electrical outages and spotty trash pickups didn’t get you, the hurricane (Ida) will take the grim and ironic humor (the usual attitude of a New Orleanian if there ever was one) out of desperate and hopeless situations. We watched some of our favorite restaurant’s tail lights gleam and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house; some just walked and others ran away. One owner said it was like watching your childhood dreams die. Yes, it was that bad.

        People that did not experience Katrina do not get visceral feelings when that subject comes up; likewise Newer Orleanians will not wax nostalgic when someone plays that ‘Ain’t dere no more’ game: Rosedale,  Cake Café, Meauxbar, Emeril’s Delmonico, Upperline, Arrow Café or Saint Charles Tavern’.

         Some stalwarts tried comebacks; L’il Dizzy’s Café on Esplanade died and was reborn, as was Couvant; Kebab on Saint Claude made a go with new ownership; Mimi’s in the Marigny is still MIA; the last Semolina finally bit the dust; Nine Roses in the Quarter called it quits on the East bank. Nacho Mama’s; Seed; Sammy’s; Polly’s; The Bordeaux; The Standard and you know more than I do which isn’t where it was and ought to be. Kingfish is just gaining ground after its hiatus; is Mahoney’s open yet? It’s a shame, sad and downright unfair for this to happen to us. As they say: “It ain’t ought to be like this; it’s like being erased.”

        I’ve been in New Orleans on and off over forty years and I can count on all the fingers of the Saints Cheer Krewe how many businesses that served my soul, spirit and appetite have shut down, closed, but still remain a topic of conversation when likeminded friends gather over a glass and recount the food that made us fall in love again and again (and again) with New Orleans.

        The good news is that eateries like Phoenixes rise from ashes, newly transformed for the new days here and ahead; wide eyed innocents and business savvy veterans will take that FOR RENT sign down add a coat of fresh paint and open a new venture that will face all of the time worn challenges of their predecessors; with the same faith and optimism: Bisutoro; Pomelo; Queen Trini-Lis; Cru; Jamaican Jerk House: Leo’s Bakery; Zee’s Pizzeria; Margot’s all vying for a place in your favor, attention and love. And what’s not to love?  

        The sad news is that there will never be another K-Paul’s Restaurant and sadder still is that any of our most welcome newbies will look at us as if we are some kind of weird to be obsessed with recalling flavors and foods that have passed into the otherworld of gestation and olfactory memory; someday, someone will open a restaurant called Orpheus that will bring back those memorable dishes. Do you remember Buster Holmes’ Red Beans; Kolb’s Sauerbraten; Morrison’s Deluxe Cornbread Pecan Dressing; the stuffed pepper and potato salad that came with the Chicken Platter at Chez Helene, the Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce at the Bon Ton Café or what was the name of that little place in the French Quarter that served a fried oyster and roast beef with gravy combo po-boy and called it a Bear Sandwich or what was that joint on Broad Street that deep fried (breaded) their dressed Po-Boy? You see what I started?

        Three things I’ve learned: cherish (and support) your favorite eateries for they also may fade someday; try new places to add more favorites to your memories and The Wu Tang Clan ain’t nuthin’ to @#$%&!* with!