Hopes and Hoops

During the summer of '09 I was working at a locker manufacturer as a blueprint reader and estimator through a temporary agency. The owner of the company was the iconic micro manager. He reminded me of a villain from a Dickens novel. Needless to say personal calls and cell phones at work were not part of the program.
One day I did get one of the cell phone calls. It was from the British Consulate in Los Angeles. I had my phone on vibrate and when the call came through I ignored it, excused myself to the bathroom and saw a number that I did not recognize. I snuck outside and dialed. A very proper woman answered the call and explained to me that there were some "issues" with my application and they had to be resolved now. My heart stopped.
My only option was to call Jemma. The conversation went like this "look babe, that lady at the consulate needs this and this. I need you to get it done for us right now or we're screwed. I gotta go. Did you get that? Right now or we're screwed. Oh yeah, I love you. Bye". I must have sounded like a scared jerk. In hindsight I should have told my boss to take a hike, gone home and handled the issues myself. But I panicked and dumped on Jemma. I was a scared jerk.
I felt terrible putting all of this on Jemma. I hate "right now" stuff. When somebody tells me "right now". I usually respond with two other words myself. Jemma handled it. She handled it like a pro. The very strict sounding, proper consulate lady gave us a very short, non-negotiable time table to work with and she had no problem telling me how busy she was and what a favor she was doing for us by giving us this impossibly short amount of time to jump through firey international bureaucratic hoops. I thought chefs were mean.
The consulate rep made it clear that after we sent her the required information, we were to have no contact with her. They would email me. Waiting really sucks but the next day the email came. I had a proper U.K. settlement visa. I was in. I got past the velvet rope into the club. When I got my passport back with my U.K. visa I must have just stared at for hours.

Stuff

After we returned to California from London in Feb. '09 we started putting things into high gear. I was still training at the restaurant and Jemma was still working at the Grove School.
We starting simplifying our life and getting rid of the things we did not need. Craig's List and Ebay became our friends.
I thought that selling and giving away things would be just "getting rid of stuff". It couldn't be further from the truth. We really had to decide what we were going to keep and what would go. For me books were some of the hardest things to let go of. Books that I had for twenty years were going off to charity shops. I loved those books. Would the person who bought them have the same emotions and excitement that I had? Would they appreciate them the same as me?
Then as time grew nearer, it was furniture, pictures, clothes and all the other "stuff" that helps make a house into a home. In one night our dining room set and livingroom set sold and went away. One of the strangest things was haggling over something that we were selling at a yard sale. I just wanted to yell "you dick, my wife gave that jacket". We decided that the really personal stuff that was too big to store or too big for the kids to take would be given to close friends. I think that made it a little better.
I was really sad. My family had a lot of real good times sitting around that table. Our whole family sat on that brown leather couch and laughed, cried, fought and loved. It seemed like we were giving part of us, the McVey's away. I was really sad about that. People say it's just stuff, but that was my stuff, our stuff the stuff that belonged to the McVey's. The eminent split up of us living under one roof was staring me in the face and I felt a deep loss.
Meagan had already moved in with Greg and Ryan was making plans. I felt a weird kind of guilt. I felt like I was orchestrating the premature death of us a nuclear family. It was surreal.
When we started planning this adventure, I always was focused on the outcome. I never really gave more than a passing though to the actual mechanics of dismantling a home. It sucked.
The kids put on brave faces. They told us how much they would miss us, both in their own way. We talked about future trips.
Since I was at home during the day, I was able to spend time with both Meagan and Ryan. Sometimes I forgot that we were going. That is until I noticed a picture missing or a piece of furniture that I cuddled my kids on gone.
After we sold, gave away and threw out most of our possessions, our entire belongings where condensed into 22 boxes and four suitcases. Those 22 boxes hold all the "things" that we could not part with. Pictures, things Meagan and Ryan made us when they were kids, over 250 CD's (I counted and alphabetized those 10 times I think), knick - knacks and keep sakes. Those boxes, our life together before we came here, our "life part 1" are in my brothers garage. I never thought I would miss "stuff".

Transition.

When I mention that leaving my job in the wholesale lumber industry was the best thing in my working life, I wasn't lying. I suddenly had time to myself. Time is a commodity that few people in the western world actually have. 

I got to read, bring infinite amounts of diet coke to Jemma and her best friend Barbara work and I got to relax. I didn't think about working or applying for work. I had a small severance and a little (very little) cash saved so I relaxed. After over twenty years in the same field I needed something different, I just didn't know what. 

One afternoon while screwing around on the computer I came across an ad on Craig's List,"Help Wanted, Chef". I thought, "hey I love cooking". "If Anthony Bourdain and Gordon Ramsay can do it, so can I". I answered the ad. I asked for an apprenticeship in the kitchen. The owner said yes. Two things. If you know me, you know I'm impetuous and a bit crazy. I will ask anybody anything about what they do just so I can see what they're about. The second thing is, this restaurant was no joke. When I say fresh, first class and non - corporate, I aint joking.

The restaurant was Farm Artisan Foods in Redlands. The chef and owner, Roberto Argentina was kind enough to meet with me and let me begin apprenticing in his kitchen. I am not certain if this was a test but I spent my first shift peeling hard boiled eggs. Six hours. I came back. I did mention that I was a bit crazy.

I apprenticed for just over four months. In that short time, I fell in love with food. Real food. Roberto's restaurant is one of the best around. Everything is hand made. I learned how to make pasta my hand, duck and pork sausage by hand, breads, salads, sauces, the list goes on. I was hooked. I even got to help butcher a pig one night. Working at the restaurant was a life changing experience. I could never begin to repay Roberto for the education that he gave me. He helped me find something that my life was lacking, a passion to create something. 

I decided that when I came to London, I would cook.

During this time, Jemma and I took a trip to London together. We stayed with Aarti and Gordon who have a home in the southern London. A borough called Camberwell. I went from being hooked on London to falling in love with it. Aarti and Gordon are the consummate hosts. They love London as well. We were taken to non touresty places. We met Aarti's family (A quick note, if you ever go to Aarti's mom's house, go there hungry. You wont be hungry when you leave. Aarti's mom is the best).  It was a wonderful trip. The wheels were in motion.

Life Part 2 Part 1

Before I do anything I want to dedicate this blog to my wife Jemma who has been my strength, my muse and my soulmate for 22 years. I also want to thank our brother and sister, Aarti and Gordon for the kindness, generosity and support on this adventure. Last but not least, I want to thank my kids. Meagan and Ryan wake up everyday knowing that they have crazy parents who packed up and moved halfway across the world. I miss my kids every minute of every day and cannot wait until I can hug and kiss them again.

It really stared about two years ago. My wife Jemma and I had been living in the same house, in the same town for six years. Longer than we had stayed put in our entire lives. Redlands California is a great place to live. It is a cultural island in the wasteland that is the called the Inland Empire in Southern California.

It started as an idea. "Wouldn't it be cool to live in London one day"? Like so many ideas and daydreams that we talked about, I figured that it was just that, a day dream. I was wrong and I am so happy I was. We planned, talked and discussed the idea with out kids. Their response was "okay momma and dada, you standing in front of the T.V.".

My first trip was in January of 2008. Jemma sent me out alone so I could get an unfiltered idea of what the U.K. was like. I remember getting my first passport. I felt like James Bond. My first trip was awesome. I was so excited when I landed at the airport that I had to tell the customs official that it was my first trip out of the U.S. He looked up at me and said in a smug way "welcome to the world sir". He stamped my passport and I was on my way.

I spent nine days purposely getting lost in London, dropping off resumes (CVs), visiting museums and soaking it in. I was hooked. London is a huge, imposing, old and crowded city. I couldn't get enough of it.

When I returned home, I knew I would be back. We sold our house in Redlands and moved into a rental. We were actually starting to make concrete plans. Then the best thing in my career happened, I was laid off, made redundant, fired, shit canned. It was the happiest day in my working life. My hand was forced. I couldn't just tread water and say maybe someday. I had to do something.