Bon Voyage Russell!
At the end of July 2008 we will be proud to celebrate the beginning of a new way
of life for one of our closest family members. Russell Frame aka Russ or Rooster
or The Roost! is hanging up his apron for good. The Hardware Grill and the
Edmonton Restaurant scene in general will miss him greatly. It's hard to believe
that he is retiring as Russ is so entrenched in our lifestyle at Hardware Grill. We of course, wish
Russell all the best in his retirement, we know that there is lots of Golf and 'Junkin'
in store. Have a read through the Journal article below and if you want
click through to
the blog we have set-up and let Russell know how much you will miss him.
Buoyant attitude floats the finest waiter in town
Edmonton Journal
Monday, February 21, 2005
Page: A11 / FRONT
Section: Cityplus
Byline: Scott McKeen
Column: Scott McKeen
Source: The Edmonton Journal
Everything I learned this week I learned from a waiter: 1) Life is all about
simplicity; 2) Charm cannot be contrived; 3) Let 'em think you're gay; 4) When
the student is ready, the teacher appears, maybe as a duck.
I remember being told once about this guy, Russell Frame, who was the finest
waiter in all Edmonton. "Russell Frame?" I said. "Never heard of him."
Then I put two and two together. That night we were in the Hardware Grill? When
that engaging waiter with the spiky white hair had the women at our table
giggling like groupies? The waiter who made us all feel special, even the men?
That was Russell. Months later, when I'd see him at the downtown farmers'
market, he'd offer a big, warm hello, put his arm around me and call me
"brother."
Melinda Stewart, who co-owns the Hardware Grill with her husband Larry, says
Russell calls his male co-workers "brother" and his female co-workers, even his
female boss, "hon.' " She shrugs. No one else dares call her hon. Russell pulls
it off.
Larry Stewart says Russell is not the finest waiter in town, at least not on
technical merit. There are other, more serious students of food and wine. But
Russell is perhaps the best he's seen at making people feel welcome.
Larry says Russell can greet women with hugs and kisses, right in front of their
husbands, and everyone will be beaming big smiles. The men assume Russell's gay.
He's not.
At 58 years of age, he's been married three times and is about to embark on
marriage No. 4 to an amazing woman, Pauline. Yes, Russell's always liked the
ladies. The ladies have always liked him. Yes, he flirts. But Larry Stewart says
he's not worried about Pauline. Stewart can tell it's different this time.
Russell is settled, happy.
But before I tell you how Russell found his happiness, before I tell you about
the ducks, we have to go back to the beginning, briefly. Born in Edmonton,
Russell was raised by his grandparents. His mom died when he was eight and his
dad disappeared long before then.
At 15 he struck out on his own. He eventually did two years of university. But
then got a temporary job in the hospitality industry and found his game. He
began waiting tables here, then in such far-flung places as the Virgin Islands
and Florida.
While in Florida he became best buddies with George Jung, a man with a serious
entrepreneurial spirit. Jung almost single-handedly established the American
cocaine market and later inspired a movie, Blow, in which his character was
played by Johnny Depp.
If things had been different, maybe some movie star would have been playing
Russell's part in that movie. Jung wanted Russell as a partner.
"He offered me the world," says Russell. Then he laughs. "Actually, he offered
me Canada."
Russell declined, but years later, in Carl Jung-like synchronicity, he regularly
waited on Depp in a Vancouver restaurant, when the future movie star was
shooting 21 Jump Street.
I should mention that Russell's past
isn't lily white. In fact, he laughs that he's waited on cops in recent years
who used to chase him around in his childhood.
"I wasn't a bad, bad kid," he says.
"It's just that I was always ready to try whatever was new."
Russell still writes to Jung, who is languishing in jail.
"George is a nice man," says Russell. "He just got caught up in the millions."
Russell got caught up in new places, new experiences, new people. For years he
worked nights waiting tables. He served presidents and millionaires and
Hollywood royalty, from Depp to John Travolta to Joan Baez.
But in 1992, at the age of 46, Russell Frame returned home an unhappy man. He
rented a cabin at Seba Beach. For five months he was alone. Some days he paddled
a canoe. Some days he went for long walks.
When Russell first got to the cabin, he watched a pair of adult ducks swim
around. Soon enough, baby ducks were swimming behind the parents. When fall
approached, the ducks flew away.
In some way, watching those ducks settled him, helped him find his happiness.
When asked about it, he shrugs.
"I'd always tried to make life so complex," he says. "Life really is simple."
When the ducks flew away, Russell went back to being a waiter, first at Jack's
Grill, then the Hardware Grill.
"I've never been a server, I've always been a waiter," explains Russell.
Servers are employees, working for the man, he says. Waiters are in charge of
their section; responsible to the guests in their section. Waiters are like
entrepreneurs, earning compensation, tips, according to the quality of their
work or the level of their charm.
"You can't fake liking people and that's all it is," says Russell, who is one of
the most authentically nice people I've met in 20 years in journalism.
Next time I go to the Hardware Grill, when I make my reservation, I'm going to
ask to be seated in Russell's section, to be treated like an honoured guest by
one of the world's best waiters and one of the world's nicest guys.
No way I'm ordering the duck, though.
smckeen@thejournal.canwest.com