Chef Otto's Blog

Biden His Time

MAGA. It has morphed to Move Along Get Along. Donald J Trump, the brain trust of the original MAGA catchphrase has been defeated. MAGA, like Trump, was marketing brilliance. Madison Ave slick, selling millions of dollars of merchandise. It has lost its punch along with its pugilistic parent, the Donald. Pugnacious has been KO’d by compassion. Chaos took a hook from calm. Lying was upended by truth. Empathy decked ego. Straight in the eye gave tweeting a black eye. Election 2020 was a slug fest. Bigger than the Thrilla in Manila, and the Rumble in Jungle combined. It was R. O. C.

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True Colors

After the most raucous, contentious, divisive, election in modern history We the People have spoken. This is democracy in action. Regardless if your candidate won or lost, gloating or bitterness is harming you and no one else. Disrupting you on a deep spiritual level and hence the orderly manner of the universe.    On August 15th I posted to take an 80-day sabbatical from political posts. On 11.7 an awakening has led me to share some things. My opinion and beliefs on social media platforms are doing absolutely zero in the big picture to heal this nation. I hope you share

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A Chef Looks At 60

It was April 1960. Wriggling through my aquatic cocoon I entered the world on the threshold of the New Frontier. JFK proclaimed it so at the DNC in Los Angeles two months later. America, and the world remembers and yearns for his leadership. He challenged us; his words resonate 60 years later.  “We stand today on the edge of a New Frontier—the frontier of the 1960s, the frontier of unknown opportunities and perils, the frontier of unfilled hopes and unfilled threats. Beyond that frontier are uncharted areas of science and space, unsolved problems of peace and war, unconquered problems of ignorance and

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There Goes My Hero

It’s just shy of 17 hours from DFW to the Holy City, better known as Charleston, SC. I’ve done the roundtrip drive a half dozen times. This time was different. It was one way. My dad was living in Ladson, 20 miles due west of Charleston. In the spring of 2017, he called at my home in Texas. He simply said, “I need you.” “I need you to come here and take care of me.”   Out of the five remaining siblings, which I was the furthest away, I got the call. I didn’t ask if he contacted other siblings, or why me?

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Board and Scared Stiff

I live in Ladson, SC, a small town that borders Summerville. Just about 20 clicks west of Charleston. Shortly after the Revolutionary War Charleston residents began to escape the industry of the city, the heat, seasonal insects, and swamp fever. They sought a country getaway. Plantation owners originally developed the area. There were so many pine trees it was known as Pineland Village. Eventually it was named Summerville, perhaps because it became a village of Summer dwellers. It officially became a town in 1847. That year, the town passed a law against cutting down trees of substantial size. The first of such laws in the United States. A $25 fine was issued upon anyone

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