How Was Your Trip To Mexico?

I had dinner with Barbara the other night. It's been a while since I've seen her and we had lots to catch up on. She's a journalist and so I appreciate her take on things, she's a thoughtful observer of current events, the world at large, and even of the space that we might inhabit at any given moment. (cough) We had picked the spot, Café Loup on 13th Street in Manhattan, a reliable restaurant that neither of us had visited in a while. (cough) I had a moment of anxiety as I approached the restaurant. Where was the entrance? I was having trouble spotting the familiar awning and I had a thought that is all too common these days: is the place still open? Has it succumbed to the turbulent economy and shut down like more than a few familiar places around town? (cough) Whew, the front door beckoned and I entered the still very much alive restaurant. In fact, the place was jammed! It was busier than I had ever seen it in all the years I have been eating there.

As we settled into our seats, (cough) we both remarked on the buzz in the restaurant, wondering about the shrinking economy and the large crowd in the restaurant, which seemed out of sync. We wondered if this busy restaurant was a sign of people's search for comfort in the face of an uneasy and uncertain world. There's no place cozier than Café Loup with its old fashioned bistro decor, dark lighting, dense seating, and warm, rich, French food. (cough) She had the skirt steak with mashed potatoes and I, the duck with mango. When it comes to duck I'm old fashioned, I like that crispy skin that comes with duck a l'orange, but is often not found on elegant duck confit entrees at the best restaurants these days. The waiter assured me that it would be crispy just as I liked, and he was right.

But back to those feelings of anxiety and surprise. (cough) These days it is so hard to know how to feel about the world. Barbara and her colleagues in the news business are keeping us abreast of the latest ups (not many) and downs (lots) of the economy. The daily dose of foreclosures, layoffs, bankruptcies and business closures can be overwhelming. I have a life to live and a business to run. How do I keep the faith in the face of so much bad news. To keep a small business thriving these days requires tenacity, smarts, creativity, and a heavy dash of optimism. I have been traveling the world promoting my newly published book, and in the process have been collecting impressions, ideas, and new contacts that I hope will refresh our work in the office. That gives me hope and the courage to carry on in the face of all of the bad news out there. Perhaps it's because I am a glass half full kind of guy. (cough) There are opportunities in the midst of this global recession. Café Loup is onto something and would seem to be doing just fine. We're doing our best to keep the machine humming at my business, too. There are, however, those good days and those bad days; good days when we get a new assignment or the hint of a project opportunity out there and the market goes up, bad days when I sit with a friend over lunch and hear about layoffs and pay cuts at their office, and I look at my 401(k) statement. (cough)

And then, just when I thought I could handle this muddle of facts and feelings, along comes swine flu! (Damn it, I love pork.) What the hell am I supposed to think about it? Should I really be worried or is it just a distant problem out there somewhere that I should be aware of but not really think too much about? I find it fascinating to read the reports in my morning New York Times (the print edition, but how much longer is that going to last?) and see how the various agencies and government organizations talk about the flu. It is a bit scary when I read about alert level five and the possibility of a global flu pandemic. I am having trouble finding my half full glass right now. The best that the experts can come up with is that we should wash and cleanse our hands. And so we handed out bottles of instant waterless antimicrobial hand sanitizer at our monthly staff meeting on Friday, the $1.79 generics from Duane Reade. It is a way of taking action, warning our staff to be aware of the dangers, and to do what we can in the face of trouble out there. (cough)

Our dinner at Café Loup was a lively, satisfying meal. We mused on our respective careers: Barbara, balancing the mix of teaching and reporting, I, excited about issuing a new book and my resulting a global book tour. The one problem that nagged throughout our delightful dinner was this guy who spent the whole meal coughing heavily at his table right next to us. His date was doing a pretty good job of staying cheerful in the face of his incessant coughing. Barbara was having more trouble with it. We couldn't help ourselves. Was this guy swine flu Sam? Were we witnessing first hand the spread of swine flu in a crowded Village restaurant? Finally, we had had enough of it and beat a hasty retreat from the restaurant. On the way out, I muttered to the guy, "How was your trip to Mexico?"

We headed out into the street. We made a quick—shocking, as it turned out—stop at Jefferson Market on Sixth Avenue. My once favorite food market had been transformed into a Gristede's. Arghh, another victim of the economy and the march of big retailers across the urban landscape. I jumped on the PATH train and headed home to Jersey City for the night. You know, next time I see Barbara we're going to eat over on the west side of the Hudson. We've got some good restaurants in Jersey City that I have to tell you about soon. And, so far, we don't have any swine flu cases in Jersey City, unlike NYC which seems to be crawling with them.