A Cup of Conversation – April 2023

It has been a while since putting pen to paper for the Review. I have not stopped writing but since a good deal of what is on my mind makes some uncomfortable, out of respect for my old friend, Whit the publisher, who gets the brunt of the blow-back, writing for posterity’s sake is good enough for me. Whit, by the way, told me in the beginning he’d never censor anything Cup of Conversation had to say. This is not to say he didn’t regret his brave word to me from time to time but nevertheless he honored every jot and tittle of it. Interestingly, the naysayers never have the courage to speak to my face.

On the flip side to the controversy of content, it’s difficult to estimate how many people have approached me over the years encouraging a continued boldness to speak truth as I see it. Clearly, I’m not alone in my perception of the world around us. One man even told me Cup of Conversation was the final arbiter in his decision to move family from the big city to the “Small Town with Big Atmosphere.” Apparently, he’d had quite enough of ants on a hill afraid to step out of line with contemporary thought. He believed if just one man could speak true thoughts in a small-town paper without condemnation or prejudice, that was where he wanted to raise his family. He may have underestimated the condemnation part but the point is valid. Whomever and wherever you are, sir, that was the most gracious thing a stranger has ever said to me. Thank you.

The passing years are really having effect on me these days. It is hard to believe Medicare will now be available to this old guy. Harder to believe is Medicare is still available. Full Social Security benefits will have to wait a while longer, but the jury is still out on the probability that will actually occur. Strange, I don’t feel like a senior citizen but have no problem asking for my discounts. Finding myself fishing for compliments to our kids about how dad is holding up are more frequent. I really want to believe them. The daughter still runs fingers through my hair calling me handsome, but she says the same thing about Happ, the Yellow Lab, as she kisses him on the snout. Happ is very handsome so that makes me feel a little better. The son marvels at dad’s stamina in the wild outdoors when we hunt pheasant in the great fields of the Klamath Basin but rarely allows me to lift anything heavy if he can do it for me. This makes me grateful for such a good son but question my perceived youthful strength. We had a sizable bet last year about how much weight each of us could lose by Christmas. We both lost so no shame there.

Springtime is around the corner. When, more importantly if, the Hedgehogs of Hospitality (restaurants, hotels, and entertainment venues) emerge from the dens of a deep, dark winter, intact and ready to serve our communities, we will know the extent of damage a severely diseased economy has taken. My heart aches for my brothers and sisters in culinary arms; the toll the past few years has taken is extraordinary, many going months without taking a paycheck, having to cut loyal staff just to keep the lights on, agonizing over the decision to raise prices one more time or cut quality and worst of all, the debt load required to stay in business.

To all small-town consumers who’ve survived the inflationary crush with a few discretionary dollars to spend, consider the restaurants. It’s not easy to spend thirty bucks on a pizza today or forty on a steak or six on a coffee drink but for what it’s worth, we in the service and hospitality business have no choice and that’s the truth.

Thank you for listening.