On a recent visit to Iron Hill, I found myself lost in thought, engaged in a favorite pastime: people watching. From my vantage point, I watched my favorite first-born serve his customers (I have a favorite second-born, see); I also watched the ones he served. One couple got nachos, another the tuna tataki, and still another the French onion soup and salad.
I liked smelling those smells. I liked the sense of sounds washing over me, the experience of being with other people, the exercise of studying their expressions, hearing their greetings, imagining what they are like, considering where they come from.
The room was nearly full. I waved at a few people I recognized. But mostly I just nursed my beer, idly looked around, and listened. The murmurs of conversation were punctuated with laughs and interrupted for sips and noshing. I heard snippets of ordinary, end-of-the-day talk. The air had a rich feel to it, the feel of people being together. We were all there for that little while – black, white, young, not – and it was pleasant. And this is what I took away from that visit, what I would tell each person, one by one, if I could:
As we have the chance, we should
Keep it up.
Keep leaning toward each other.
Keep telling the stories, building the traditions, investing in the relationships.
Keep sharing the nachos.