Lunch With Josh

I always tell Josh we don’t do this often enough. We don’t.

I have lunch with my friend Josh once or twice a year. It’s always good food and better conversation. I’m not sure if Josh knows how much I enjoy these lunches.

He works in print, which is under heavier economic assault than TV. Truth is, we both get the opportunity to kvetch to a sympathetic ear.

We ate sushi at a new restaurant on Chapel Street, not far from his office–across the way from the Green. The food was excellent, especially my spicy salmon roll (which is still emblazoned on my taste buds).

On a beautiful summer’s day the city was teeming with people. Working nights, it’s a scene I don’t often get to see. The city looks better when it’s busy.

I always tell Josh we don’t do this often enough. We don’t.

Good Day To Be Me

I’ll start with an admission. This won’t be my most exciting of entries. It wasn’t an exciting day.

It was a good day… and an unusual day. I had two meals with two friends. I eat dinner every night, but the fact I had lunch at all was out of the ordinary.

Lunch was with my friend Josh. publisher of a string of weekly newspapers.

I woke up ‘early,’ around 11:00 AM, driving to New Haven at 12:45 PM. Today was a day with astounding weather. It got over 60&#176 at my house and well into the 50&#176s in New Haven (closer to Long Island Sound). For mid-February in New England, this was a bonus day!

Normally, in February, I’d park in the garage under his office building. Today I drove to the TV station, parked in our lot and hoofed it the five or six blocks under the Federal Building and past the New Haven Green.

The streets were crawling with people. It was like a spring day and anyone with any kind of pent up winter blues was outside.

The happiest person I saw was the hot dog vendor on Church Street, outside the (usually unoccupied) WVIT – New Haven studio. I’m not sure if the hot dog guy’s out there year round, but if he is, he can’t be this busy most days.

Josh and I had lunch at Basta, an Italian restaurant on Chapel Street. I chose mine from the daily specials the waitress read.

I can’t remember exactly what it was I ordered, though it did have chicken sausage over penne pasta. I do remember, there was so much ‘range fed’ this and ‘organic’ that in her description, I felt ordering it would also commit me to vote for Ralph Nader (if he ever runs again)!

Lunch, and luncheon company, were very good.

I walked back to the station. On the way, a few people stopped me to say hello and kid me about the weather. If there was ever a good day to be the weatherman, today was that day.

Through the afternoon I thought about how I’d avoid dinner. Lunch was plenty. Then, my friend Harvey came on Instant Messenger.

Harvey is a physician – a specialist in pregnancy&#185. Every time I introduce him to someone, I say Harvey gets women pregnant for a living. It’s a cute line and Harvey has never asked me to stop saying it.

We headed out for dinner at the diner – salads.

We both talked about our girls – he has three to my one.

It’s so strange to me to be having these grown up conversations with other grownups. But, I suppose I am one and there’s little I can do to change that.

Actually, at lunch, Josh and I had a similar adult-ish conversation. Growing up is sneaky. I don’t feel old, but when I look around I know I’m older than most of the people I see. And, my life revolves around adult responsibilities.

I just don’t remember exactly when I grew up.

&#185 – Harvey’s medical specialties also includes women’s orgasms. There is no joke here. That’s a heck of a thing to be known for.