The Day Delivery Became a Lifeline

The ups and downs of living in a small town… well, honestly, mostly just the one big down.

Until you’re stranded and unable to drive, you never truly realize how few food options you actually have. Since having surgery, I’m still recovering and not yet cleared to drive. And with that comes the miserable realization that delivery food around here is basically a survival game with very few contestants left standing.

I’ve officially run through my options… and the pickings are slim. Day two of limited food intake is underway, and my stomach has gone into full growl patrol mode. I learned the hard way on Sunday when I ordered from one of the very limited delivery choices available, only to end up throwing the food away because it was that bad. Nothing says “small-town luxury” quite like paying delivery fees for disappointment.

At this point, hunger is stalking me like a bad episode of Survivor. Except instead of tribal council, I’m standing in my kitchen staring at condiments and leftover crackers trying to convince myself it’s a meal.

And the fun doesn’t stop there.

Tomorrow, I somehow need to get to Burgettstown, and honestly, I have no clue how that’s going to happen. Funny how quickly you realize just how much freedom comes with simply being able to grab your keys and go somewhere. It’s one of those things you never appreciate until it’s suddenly taken away from you.

The moral of the story? Small-town living feels charming right up until DoorDash taps out and your independence gets put on injured reserve.

The Great Wing Debate: Here We Go Again…

There are few things more predictable on social media than the cycle of outrage, political arguments, and someone asking:

“Who has the best wings in the area?”

Like clockwork, it rises from the ashes every few weeks like a deep-fried phoenix coated in medium sauce.

And once again, hundreds of people rush into the comments armed with absolute certainty, as if they’ve been personally appointed to the Supreme Court of Chicken Wings.

The funny part?

Half the people answering are recommending the same place they’ve been eating at since 2009 and haven’t ventured beyond its parking lot since.

Now don’t get me wrong, I sell wings. I love wings. I fully support unhealthy emotional attachment to crispy poultry. But let’s be honest about what these posts actually become.

A giant, repetitive, subjective food war.

Because every single time the question gets asked:

The original poster is never going to try all 37 places mentioned.
Every answer is based on personal bias and loyalty.
The same businesses get repeated over and over.
And the more the question gets asked, the fewer people even care enough to answer it anymore.

It’s social media Groundhog Day with bleu cheese dressing.

So who actually has the best wings?

Honestly? I have no idea.

I’m partial to my own because, well… they’re mine. That’s how ownership works. I’d be concerned if I was in my own kitchen whispering, “You know whose wings are really better? The Tavern.”

What I can say is consistency matters.

Good wings on Tuesday should still be good on Friday night when the kitchen is slammed, the fryer is screaming for mercy, and somebody at table seven wants “extra crispy but not too crispy.”

That consistency is probably what separates good wing places from great ones.

And here’s the thing:
Most people recommending “the best wings” probably only go to one or two spots regularly anyway. Which is fine. Everybody has favorites. But favorites and “best” aren’t always the same thing.

So here’s my completely revolutionary advice for anyone about to make the weekly wing post:

Before asking the question again…

Go to the group page.
Hit the search icon.
Type in “chicken wings.”

Congratulations… you’ve unlocked the archives of approximately 9,000 identical posts.

Read through them.
Make a list.
Then go try the places yourself.

Turn it into a mission.
A wing crawl.
A cholesterol-powered adventure across the Ohio Valley.

Because the only real way to know who has the best wings… is to actually eat the wings.

Crazy concept, I know.

The Character Test

Don’t wish it were easier, wish you were better

Everyone wants the big job. The important project. The responsibility. The promotion.

But the truth is, most people don’t want to hear: your character shows up in the small stuff first.

When someone is given a simple task, something basic, even minuscule, and they underperform, it tells you everything you need to know about that person.

Because that task wasn’t given to insult you. It wasn’t given because you’re not capable of something bigger.

It was given because details matter, and the small things are where you learn them. The small tasks are where you dial in your work ethic and where you learn to take pride in your work and your company.

Every. Little. Detail.

Washing dishes. Cleaning countertops. Dusting shelves. Wiping menus. Putting things back where they belong.

There’s a moment in Memory of a Killer where Dutch breaks it down in a way that sticks. He tells Joe that washing dishes isn’t about dishes. It’s about discipline. It’s about doing something simple, the right way, every time. Because if you cut corners there, you’ll cut corners everywhere. https://www.hulu.com/series/cb030381-ce34-4204-86ba-ba6fcff7d5b1?cmp=&utm_source=bing&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=&utm_term=memory%20of%20a%20killer&&msclkid=1664af4b69c517bebd40c6a546b13ed7&gclid=1664af4b69c517bebd40c6a546b13ed7&gclsrc=3p.ds&gad_source=7&gad_campaignid=23234781091

Do the job the right way, even when nobody is watching… Because the truth is, someone is always watching.

Those small actions reveal something important: PRIDE.

People who take pride in simple work tend to be the ones trusted with complicated work later.

The opposite is also true.

If someone can’t handle the small things with care, attention, and effort, then handing them a bigger project with dozens of moving parts isn’t a promotion. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

Because bigger jobs are just hundreds of small details stacked together. For example, my business could use someone to take on more responsibilities, but that pride and character we look for hasn’t presented itself just yet.

And if you ignore the little things, the big things collapse. Every great worker, leader, or craftsman understands this instinctively.

You earn trust by proving one thing first:

That no job is beneath you, and every task you touch will be done the best way you know how.

Not because someone told you to. But because that’s who you are.

My Wishlist

An Unhealthy Way to Manage

Today’s blog is an angry rant. A painful, physically and mentally painful testament to why being in charge of people is an unhealthy stressor. How the constant repetition of explaining and showing how to do things is tiresome to the point of extreme exhaustion.

Reliability is at an all time low. Accountability is nonexistent. I wish making excuses and not owning up to wrongdoings was a fireable offense!

I wish employees would do their actual jobs and stop conducting their personal business while on company time.

I wish I could convey these messages and people hear them, believe in them and actually respond and do them.

I wish, because as a child we grow up fast and are taught to believe and make wishes. I’d rather be taught at a young age that failure is real and relying on others will break you!

I wish, I could stop wishing… I write because this is my release and my way to vent… I can type without being interrupted.

Confidence doesn’t exist in people anymore. Belief in oneself is a missing trait and because of that most work is incomplete or incorrect.

My final wish is to see an influx in solid, confident and skilled workers who accept accountability and put the business first before online shopping, family matters, chatting up strangers and friends and ignoring phone calls.

It’s all wishful thinking, not because I don’t think people exist out there who do the job right, but because I don’t think many people out there actually care…..

Building Culture or Tearing It Down

“A man’s character isn’t measured by the job he has, but by how well he does the job in front of him.”

There’s a silent problem happening in a lot of workplaces today, and most people don’t even realize it’s happening.

It’s not bad management. It’s not low wages. It’s not even the economy.

It’s culture.

And culture isn’t created by mission statements, motivational posters, or manager speeches. Culture is created by what people are willing to do… and what they refuse to do.

In today’s society, too many people believe certain work is beneath them.

The janitor is treated differently than the CEO.

The dishwasher is overlooked while the chef gets the praise.

The person sweeping the floor is invisible to the person signing the checks.

But here’s the truth most people miss:

The tedious work is what keeps everything running. Floors have to be swept. Bathrooms have to be cleaned. Equipment has to be wiped down. Prep has to be done. Trash has to be taken out.

These aren’t glamorous jobs. No one brags about them. But without them, businesses fall apart faster than people realize.

You can have the best leadership, the best product, and the best marketing in the world… but if the little things stop getting done, the entire operation slowly starts to decay.

I’ve seen it happen more times than I can count.

The Family Business Trap

In family-run businesses, there’s another problem that quietly develops.

When employees don’t do the small jobs, the family steps in and does them.

The owners start to clean, wipe and pick up, where employees don’t.

Someone stays late or comes in on closed days to clean and prep what should have been done during a shift.

At first, it seems like the responsible thing to do. You care about the business, so you pick up the slack. But over time, something dangerous happens.

Employees learn a lesson without anyone saying a word:

“If we don’t do it… the family will.”

And just like that, culture starts rebranding itself.

Not because employees are bad people, but because standards are no longer enforced. The invisible work always gets done… just not by the people who were supposed to do it.

The “That’s Not My Job” Mentality

One of the biggest cultural shifts I’ve seen over the years is the rise of the phrase:

“That’s not my job.”

When people start deciding which tasks are “beneath” them, the entire system breaks down.

Successful teams…. whether in sports, the military, or business, all share one common mindset:

Everyone handles the small stuff.

The small tasks are not punishment.

They are the foundation.

When the small things are handled well, the big things become easier. But when the small things are ignored, the big things start falling apart.

Pride in the Work

Some of the best workers I’ve ever known weren’t the ones with the biggest titles.

They were the ones who took pride in whatever task they were given.

Mopping restrooms? Dusting shelves. Raking yards. Shoveling walkways.

They made sure it was all perfect and spotless. They didn’t leave a trail behind them.

It wasn’t about the job itself. It was about pride in doing something well.

That kind of mindset is rare today… but when you find it, it changes everything.

Culture Is Built Through Standards

Here’s the reality most owners eventually learn:

Motivation doesn’t build culture. Standards do. Clear expectations. Accountability. Consistency.

Not speeches. Not slogans. Not empty promises.

If the soda gun needs cleaned, it gets cleaned.

If the floor needs swept, it gets swept.

If the fryer needs scrubbed, it gets scrubbed.

And when it’s someone’s responsibility, they own it. Not tomorrow. Not when someone reminds them.

Right now.

The Hard Truth

When a business starts struggling with culture, it’s easy to blame employees.

But the truth is a little more uncomfortable.

Culture is built or destroyed by what leadership allows.

If the small jobs are constantly ignored and someone else quietly fixes them later, the standard slowly disappears.

People don’t rise to unspoken expectations. They rise to enforced ones.

Respect the Broom

A workplace becomes a stronger place to work when people respect every job, from sweeping the floor to running the company. Because when people take pride in the small things, the big things take care of themselves.

But when the small things are ignored, the entire system begins to crack.

Culture isn’t built by titles.

Culture is built by the willingness to do the work that no one else wants to do.

And sometimes the most important tool in any business isn’t the computer, the fryer, or the cash register.

It’s the hands that hold the mop.

If the City Manager Runs the City… Who Exactly Are We Electing?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how city government actually works, not how it’s explained in civics class, but how it functions in real life.

Take a city like Steubenville.

We have a city council made up of seven members. We have a mayor. We have a city manager. We have full-time police and fire departments that constantly need funding for equipment, training, and staffing, along with neighborhoods that need representation and real attention.

And like a lot of taxpayers, I keep coming back to one simple question:

Who’s actually in charge here?

Because from the outside looking in, it feels like everyone has a title, but nobody has clear responsibility.

In our system, the city manager runs day-to-day operations. They oversee departments, budgets, and execution. For all practical purposes, they are the CEO of the city.

The mayor? Mostly ceremonial. Runs meetings, represents the city at events, and breaks tie votes. Which raises an uncomfortable question: could those duties be handled another way and save taxpayers money?

City council approves budgets, passes ordinances, and hires the city manager, but they don’t run departments or manage operations. They create laws, yet they aren’t responsible for enforcing them.

So when residents see police officers needing equipment or firefighters asking for resources, frustration builds quickly. Taxpayers naturally wonder why solutions move so slowly when so many elected officials are involved.

And that’s where confusion turns into distrust.

Because when something goes wrong, responsibility becomes blurry.

Residents blame the mayor, who doesn’t control operations.
Council points to administrative limits.
The city manager, the person running daily operations, isn’t elected by voters.

Everyone holds authority, yet no one appears fully accountable.

To be fair, this system wasn’t created by accident. The council-manager model was designed to prevent corruption and political favoritism (unfortunately, these still exist) by separating politics from administration. The idea was simple: let professionals run the city while elected officials set policy and represent the people.

On paper, it makes sense.

But in smaller cities facing tight budgets and aging infrastructure, the structure can start to feel disconnected from reality. Essential services fight for funding while residents struggle to understand who is responsible for fixing problems.

And maybe that’s the real issue.

We elect council members to support, represent, and solve problems within their wards and neighborhoods. If residents don’t see that happening, it’s fair to ask why those positions exist at all.

The question isn’t whether these roles should exist…. it’s whether the people holding them are visibly leading, communicating, and owning decisions.

Because government works best when responsibility is clear.

Right now, many residents are left wondering:

If the city manager runs everything… who exactly are we electing?

And more importantly, who answers when things don’t get done?

Confusing Attention With Relevance

Why Social Media Has Turned to Sh*t (Even Though Many of Us Still Use It for Good)

There was a time when social media actually meant something. People shared ideas. Businesses connected with customers.

Conversations, actual conversations happened.

Now?

It’s a digital carnival of noise where attention is mistaken for importance and relevance is buried under a pile of fake outrage, staged videos, and algorithm-chasing nonsense.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking “Is this valuable?” and started asking “Will this get clicks?”

And that’s when everything went sideways.

Attention Is Not the Same as Relevance

Let’s clear something up that social media desperately refuses to understand:

Getting attention doesn’t mean you matter. It just means you were loud enough, absurd enough, or annoying enough to interrupt someone’s scroll.

“Look at this!”

“Watch till the end!”

“Most people can’t answer this!”

“How many dots do you see?”

None of it is insightful. None of it is meaningful. It’s mental spam.

Attention is cheap. Relevance is earned.

But relevance takes effort, honesty, and God forbid, thought. So instead, people chase the fastest dopamine hit the algorithm will hand them.

Algorithm Farming: The New Side Hustle Nobody Admits

Let’s call it what it is: algorithm farming.

Posting content designed solely to trigger:

comments – arguments – outrage – emotional reactions

Not because the creator believes it. Not because it adds value. But because engagement equals visibility, and visibility might equal money.

“How many dots do you see?”

“If you believe this, unfollow me.”

“Only idiots disagree.”

It’s not conversation, it’s bait. And millions of people take it daily.

The worst part? The algorithm doesn’t reward truth, intelligence, or usefulness.

It rewards:

anger – stupidity – division – repetition

So guess what rises to the top? Fake Videos, Fake Reactions, Fake People

AI voices. Scripted “random” encounters. Influencers pretending they just discovered something groundbreaking that’s been common knowledge since 1998.

Everything feels staged because most of it is.

We’re watching people perform authenticity for engagement, while real experiences get buried because they’re not dramatic enough to trend.

Reality doesn’t scream. Clickbait does.

“If You Voted for ___, Unfollow Me”

This is where social media fully jumped the shark. Instead of discussion, we get ultimatums. Instead of nuance, we get tribal warfare.

It’s not courage. It’s not conviction. It’s insecurity disguised as a moral stance.

Shutting down conversation isn’t strength…. it’s fear of being challenged.

And ironically, the people screaming for tolerance are often the least tolerant of disagreement.

Why This Makes Social Media Miserable

Most of us didn’t sign up for this.

We joined to: promote our businesse – stay connected – share ideas – learn something new

Instead, we got force-fed outrage, nonsense, and fake urgency.

The problem isn’t that social media exists. It’s that it’s been optimized for engagement at the cost of sanity.

And your brain feels it. That constant low-level irritation? That feeling of being talked at instead of talked to?

That’s not you aging into irrelevance. That’s you recognizing bullshit.

The Quiet Truth

There are still people using social media the right way:

creators – small business owners – educators – thinkers

They’re just harder to hear over the noise. Social media didn’t turn to shit because people stopped caring. It turned to shit because attention became more valuable than integrity.

And until relevance matters more than reach, the loudest voices will keep winning, regardless of how empty they are.

If you’re exhausted by social media, congratulations. It means you still have standards. And in a world addicted to clicks, outrage, and fake importance, that alone makes you relevant.

Things I’m Supposed to Accept… But Don’t

We live in a world where inconvenience is enforced immediately, but accountability moves slowly… or sometimes not at all.

There are things everyone pretends make sense, and I’m not buying it anymore.

Ladies and gentlemen, I keep being told everything I’m about to mention is normal. That it’s just how business works. Just how people are. Just how the world is.

Today I’d like to submit a simple argument: normal is not the same thing as reasonable.

Let’s start small.

It is apparently normal to drive fourteen miles down the interstate with your turn signal on, passing exit after exit, never turning. At some point you stop wondering if it’s accidental. Eventually, everyone else just adjusts, drives around the confusion, and moves on.

That’s what acceptance looks like. Not agreement …. exhaustion.

Now let’s talk about business.

Every business depends on basic services like trash pickup. You sign a contract expecting a service, not a lifetime membership. Shop around, find a better rate, try to make a smart financial decision, and suddenly leaving becomes nearly impossible.

Cancellation windows, automatic renewals, clauses buried deep enough to require a legal team and a flashlight. Contracts so complex David Blaine couldn’t escape them.

A service confident in its value doesn’t need traps to keep customers.

And then there are issues that stop being frustrating and start being serious.

We are told justice is blind. We are told accountability applies equally. Yet time and again, ordinary people face immediate consequences while powerful people seem protected by delay, influence, or silence.

Justice loses credibility the moment people believe status changes outcomes.

We fine ordinary people instantly.

We bind businesses with contracts they can’t escape.

We tolerate daily dysfunction without question.

And when accountability approaches the powerful, suddenly patience becomes endless.

Maybe the issue isn’t confusion.

Maybe we understand perfectly, and we’ve simply been told long enough to stop objecting. I don’t accept that anymore.

And if questioning that makes me unreasonable, then maybe reasonable isn’t the standard we should be defending.

Being “Nice” Is the Most Expensive Mistake in Business

The biggest mistake you can make in business is being nice to employees.

Some people need discipline. Some people need to be fired. And pretending otherwise is how small businesses bleed out slowly.

Post-COVID didn’t just disrupt industries, it rewired work ethic. And small businesses are paying the price for government policies that rewarded not working while punishing those who kept showing up.

You can explain expectations until you’re blue in the face. You can train, retrain, document, demonstrate, and remind. And still…. people just won’t do what’s required. They’ll do the bare minimum and convince themselves that it’s “enough.”

Meanwhile, business owners are handcuffed.

• Food specials? Forget it — cooks “can’t handle” the extra.

• Drink specials? Forget it — servers don’t want to promote anything new.

• Responsibilities and accountability? Forget it — that’s suddenly “too much.”

We survived COVID. Despite shutdowns. Despite losing half our staff. Despite every attempt to pull the rug out from under us. We made it with what we had.

And now?

What we’re left with is an employee pool that’s lazy, disengaged, and painfully lackluster.

People love to say, “You can only go up from here.”

I disagree. When you’ve been stuck at the bottom long enough, sometimes the only way forward is to bail out and find a new starting point.

Between rising rent, food shortages, delivery delays, missed orders, and the added burden placed on owners because employees simply don’t care, it’s enough to make any sane person walk away.

But here I am. Circling the eddy. No paddle. Going down with the ship. Because that’s what captains do. Because we all know sanity isn’t my strong suit!

The Restaurant You See vs. The Restaurant We Run

If you’ve never worked in a restaurant, I get it. From the outside, it looks simple.

You walk in. You order. You eat.

If something is unavailable, the conclusion is quick and confident: “Someone screwed up.”

But that assumption lives in the same fantasy land as thinking grocery stores magically refill themselves overnight and food appears because you wanted it.

Let me pull the curtain back a little. What Customers See

A menu.

A bar.

A kitchen.

A wait time.

If we sell out of something, especially wings, the reaction is often immediate and personal. Somehow, a business decision becomes a moral failure. Suddenly, we “suck.”

Restaurants are not vending machines. They are controlled chaos. Every single day involves:

Forecasting demand without a crystal ball. Ordering product days in advance. Managing limited cooler and freezer space. Balancing food waste vs. sell-outs. Staffing humans (not robots). Navigating deliveries that are late, short, or wrong. Following food safety laws that do not bend to feelings.

We don’t order infinite food because over-ordering doesn’t make customers happier, it puts restaurants out of business.

Let’s Talk Wings

Just Friday and Saturday this week we sold 840 pounds of wings.

That’s roughly 6700+ individual wings.

That’s not a “we forgot to order” problem. That’s a you all showed up hungry in unreasonable numbers situation.

Selling out isn’t failure. It’s demand outpacing expectation. And before anyone says, “Just make more”, that’s not how food, physics, or reality work.

Why “Just Make More” Isn’t a Thing.

Food takes time to prep. Deliveries don’t teleport. Staff doesn’t magically multiply. Kitchen space and equipment are limited. Health codes exist. Storage space is finite.

If restaurants stocked for maximum possible demand every single day, most would close within a month due to waste alone.

The Part No One Thinks About. When someone calls a restaurant and says “you suck,” they aren’t yelling at a corporation.

They’re yelling at: A server who had nothing to do with ordering. A cook who’s already working a double. A manager solving 20 problems at once. A team doing their best in a high-stress environment.

Restaurants are run by people. Real ones. Not punching bags for frustration.

A Little Perspective Goes a Long Way. You don’t need to work in a restaurant to enjoy one. But understanding the reality behind the scenes?

That makes you a better customer, and honestly, a better human.

If we sold out, it means you loved it. And if you loved it enough to be mad? We’ll take that as a compliment.

We’ll make more. You’ll be back. And next time, maybe lead with patience instead of insults.