Cafes and barbershops, they are what makes a community
When I’m feeling hungry, I like to find those old hole-in-the-wall restaurants that look like they’ve been around for generations. The paint is usually chipping around the window edges and not all the stools are working in the breakfast bar area.
As the waitress approaches to top you off, the coffee pot looks like it has served your father and grandfather. She greets you with phrases like “sweetie” and “honey.” It makes you feel good inside.
I like those places because with all their wear and tear, they show you that with a little grit, you can make it through almost anything.
Today, many of them are closing their doors. The pandemic and its political aftermath were too much, even for the diners and corner cafes of yesteryear that survived world wars and depressions. It makes me a little sad to think that almost all we have left are big name restaurants with shiny menus and shinier tables.
Earlier this week, I stopped by a barbershop I had never previously visited in a small town near the Mexican border. Named Al’s Barbershop, I was attracted to it because it was in an older looking building that in its heyday seemed to be home to several businesses.
