I've had that lyric stuck in my head for a month now. I swear Lennon is standing on my shoulder, his voice is crystal clear in my mind. We are certainly living in uncertainty, something we Americans have been fortunate to not know very well. I delivered food to fallen firemen's homes on 9/12, so I am well aware of dark periods in our past. Yet this is vastly different, a time when your family member or neighbor or customer can unknowingly harm you. Or even worse you harm them. People who we have built our lives around, who define the meaning of love to us, are now kept at a distance. Rituals of hugging and kissing and handshaking may now be things of the past. That just plain sucks, and we all know it and feel it. Species have adapted for years to survive, and I suppose there will be many changes in our day to day lives as we move forward. Some welcome and others much less so.
Which is the reason I'm prompted to blog today.
I myself am in a strange place. Our bagel shop has been closed for nearly a month. We actually had previously scheduled some roof renovations for this past week and had planned on closing to do that. Unfortunately that timetable was moved up a few weeks because I became ill in the early stages of this pandemic. I had a fever for almost 5 days, never got terribly sick. I had my first teleconference doctor's appointment but I did not qualify for a test as there were few available at that time. Without knowing for certain I put myself in self quarantine, and Sue as well. I did not want to infect anyone else, our staff or customers. I did not feel right leaving the responsibility of operating the store to our employees without our help. Under normal conditions I absolutely trust them, but not with a super virus in our midst. We have employees with pre existing conditions as well as others with small children in their homes. I made the toughest business decision in our 30 years of owning stores and pulled the plug. The risks did not measure up to the rewards. If anyone is to become ill working I'd want it to be me. It is not that I desire that, I don't. But this place is my idea, and the health and welfare of our staff and their families means the world to me.
We were in the midst of our best year ever, in fact our last few have been very special. We have started to get some recognition in Best of State competitions and other social media publicity. We have assembled a crew that we truly enjoy working with. I believe in that adage that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and with that in mind we feel that this is our strongest team in Big Dave's 10 year history. Yet as we are closed I watch competitors remain open, trying to poach some of our customers and staff. I understand that there is economic pressures on all of us, and we are no exception. Tomorrow we will be in our shop cleaning, and working on ways to reopen. In truth it goes beyond that because I know it means reinventing the way we conduct business. I need to update our online capabilities for ordering and payment, and probably accept that deliveries are part of our future. Yet as I sit here typing I'd be less than honest if I didn't state that I still have so many more questions than answers. Most peculiar Mama.
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As many of my close friends know I tend to worry too much, even in good times. I sometimes can focus on stress and pressure and lose sight of the beauty of life. It is something that I try to work on. To help my angst I often turn to things that ease my mind, which lately has been baking. I've fallen in love with this pastry from Brittany France called Kouign Amman. I probably have made 8 versions since I tried it in Montreal last month. I am always capable of turning into a Jewish Grandmother, making Rugalach and Babkas and Challas. Lately I've tried my hand at bread baking, which you figure years of bagel baking would help. There are some similarities but it is a different idea. Lately I've started fooling around with Sour Dough. It keeps my hands and mind busy while I wait to reopen the shop. In the baking of bread there is something quite spiritual. From flour and water you create. It develops slowly and requires patience and nurturing. Somewhere in it there are metaphors for life.
It also took my mind back to a story my father told me when I was a small child fifty years ago. Our current population can learn a lot from our Greatest Generation, and we need to. My father Walter had grown up in the Lower East Side of New York City. His father had a small trucking business which my dad would eventually both inherit and then lose. They did not have much money, and my dad truly knew hard times. He liked to recall the happier moments of his youth, like we all do. He would share tales of dancing on Saturday nights in Harlem, meeting his boys at the pool hall after their dates to share lies, etc. I found his stories fascinating, he knew of a past era that I was interested in. When the talk turned to The Depression, the jokes would dry up and I could tell by his face that it was no laughing matter. He spoke of not knowing where their next meal was always coming from, an uncertainty I've never really known. He also spoke of Americans helping each other through the most difficult of times. One day when he was a kid his father sent him to the Bread Line. My pop waited patiently and ran home with a loaf of bread. He ran in the house with his Big Score.
And what do you suppose was the very first thing my grandfather said ?
"Bring half this loaf next door to the neighbors."
