So this guy is Mr. Tyler Tangalin of the Venice Beach Tangalin’s. Besides being an all around charming gentlemen from the South (Bay), he also happens to be a self-proclaimed banjo enthusiast, accomplished social media maven, and my childhood YRUU cohort. When not saving the world, he can be found eating Morningstar Farm veggie sausage patties from my freezer while teaching my dear mother to play jazz clarinet – which she happens to be amazing at but I digress and that topic deserves an entry of it’s own.
You might be asking yourself, “where in the world did such a dashing boy with a debonair smile and dandy attitude come from?” Well, let me take this opportunity to tell you a tale of passion and adventure; of trials, tribulations and Tribbiani, Joey; of palm trees and poetic license. It all started in the winter of 1987, soon to be known as ‘the winter of our disco tent.’
A precocious lad, young Tangalin spent his early days a short order cook to help his family make ends meet. He knows that the age-old crafts of food preparation, customer service, and egg poaching were essential to his survival during the rise of generation Y. Sure he could have learned to read, ride a bike, or pee in a big-boy toilet. Instead he took solace in the endless cupboard corridors of kettles and colanders. They provided a caliber of comfort that even a poorly written blog post couldn’t.