The Man Called Me a Fresser*

Yes, I know this is out of focus, even without my glasses, even while wearing a pirate’s eye patch. It is not me. It is the snapshot. Blurrrrry.

Went to hear David Sax talk about his new book, Saving the Deli, at Sixth and I the other night. Ezra Klein interviewed him, and both men had precisely-chiseled personalities. Types. Types I could wrap my intellect around with ease, leaving the conduit between ear and brain free to absorb their words and expressions.

* fress  [fres]
–verb (used without object) Slang.
to eat or snack, esp. often or in large quantities.
Origin: Yiddish fresn or G fressen (of animals) to eat, eat ravenously

There is no saving the deli. There is keeping those that persist. And then there is boutique deli. Or artisanal deli. Call it what you will, we are in the era of either/or. Authentic is, well, um, ugh, overused, sadly. A sad comment on where we are as people, that we have to work so hard for authenticity. There is no saving the deli, less you want to look at it behind bars. Start again. Here’s one, for instance. Take it to its essence and begin again.