NPR 11-23:Making It Up as I Go Along 不管明天会如何,我只管以我自己的方式走下去(在线收听

Alice Brock, made famous in Arlo Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant," believes in improvisation. And it's a good thing, too — she knew nothing about running a restaurant when she opened her now legendary business.

Welcome to "This I Believe", an NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.
I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
And I believe normal life is extraordinary.
This I Believe.

Our "This I Believe" essay today comes from Alice Brock, she once owned "Alice's Restaurant", the one that inspired the famous 18-minute-talking blue song by Arlo Guthrie. The song and later the movie chronically invents that began on Thanksgiving Day in 1965. It involved a friendly group of hippies. Some illegally dumped garbage and a draft for the Vietnam war and of course Alice's Restaurant.

You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant.

With that song, Alice and her restaurant became an iconic image for the country culture of the day. Here is our series curator independent producer Jay Allison.

In the case of icons, the popular image is not necessarily an accurate representation of the person who inspired it. But Alice Brock's believes are not too distant from those commemorated by Arlo Guthrie song . They echoed the spirit of a time . And although she's left the restaurant business, she still lives by codes she developed there. Here's Alice Brock with her essay for "This I Believe".

"Just because you only have six plates and three glasses is no reason why you can't invite 12 people to dinner. You can drink out of a jelly jar or a tin can. And there are a lot of things you can use for plates, like hubcaps lined with tin foil. I once made to steak dinner in an apartment that had only one knife, we used scissors. It was quite memorable. I believe in improvising. It's exciting; it's an adventure, a challenge and a chance to be creative. Not being locked into a plan or a prescribed way of doing something leaves room for all kinds of wonderful stuff to happen. You don't always have to follow a recipe, I tend to use more butter, eggs and garlic than a recipe calls for. And the only unfortunate changes this brings about is in my size. I didn't study how to own and run a restaurant. I pretty much made it up as I went along. I was swept up with the idea, the fantasy of having a restaurant, the chance to make something happen. It never occurred to me I couldn't do it. I only felt that way after I have opened up, but by then it was too late . And of course making money at it was way down on the list what mattered, and that allowed me the freedom to focus on creating something really wonderful. I had no idea how anything was supposed to be. I just barreled ahead discovering all kinds of possibilities of making plenty of mistakes. And those are really great opportunities to learn . When something works, well, that's that. But when it doesn't, I have to think about why and I have to come up with some other ways that will make it work . Mistakes lead to discovery and that can produce delight, like cream of salt and pepper soup. I made it in a pinch once and believe me it's good. You should try it. In my restaurant, I really hired people who were trained. That wasn't important. As long as you can take down an order, treat people well and give them an experience they would remember. I didn't care if you were dressed up as the piece of broccoli. In fact, it's the oddity that brought richness to everyone.

Someone said it's too bad my restaurant was a failure. Why, because it went bankrupt? I came away richer than any restaurant owner could possibly dreamed of, just not in terms of money. My belief in improvising was confirmed when I closed my last restaurant 29 years ago. I just walked away. I didn't make any plans. I left everything behind and I came to live in Provincetown where I always wanted to live and paint. I'm still making it up as I go along. I believe there's no one way to do things. The way that works for me is the way that works right now. But that might change tomorrow.

Alice Brock, with her essay for "This I Believe". Brock is now a painter, in Provincetown Massachusetts where she has her own gallery. Consistent with her belief, she sometimes gathers rocks on the beach, makes little drawings on them, and then puts them back on the beach or wherever she feels like putting them . Our invitation direct for the series goes out to everyone, so if you're interested, visit NPR. org /ThisIBelieve to find out more and to see the recipe for Alice Brock's cream of salt and peppers soup. For "This I Believe", I'm Jay Alison.

You can get anything you want at Alice’s restaurant.

Our “This I Believe”essay is produced by Jay Allison with Viki Merrick who, by the way, worked as a bartender in Alice Brock’s restaurant. Next Sunday, on Weekend edition an essay from Joe Ingardio on a belief in tolerance, which he developed as child going door to door with his mother. A Jehovah's Witness.

Support for this I believe comes from Prudential Retirement.
  原文地址:http://www.tingroom.com/lesson/NPR2007/58450.html