Freeing My Mind

Let me begin by recognizing the, at times down right poor, writing contained within my first blog. Get used to commas. They’re like a comfort food to me. Too much of a good thing I guess. Let me also say that while I hope to do a better job on the fly, I’m not going to pursue perfect writing etiquette in this blog. Sure, I hope I can use it as a tool to help me become a better writer, but it just takes too much effort to comb through every memory I have of 8th grade creative writing.

As much I was would like to go ahead and begin bloviating about the pursuit of life, liberty and freedom from religion… I’m going to restrain myself. My biggest fear in doing this blog is that it would simply become a daily soapbox for me to expound upon my view of the world, as well as the Church’s, spiritual state. Not to say I won’t do that. I will. But, if I begin to process those issues too early in the day too often, it has the ability to somewhat taint the rest of my day. Not that I get depressed or anything, it just opens up what I call righteous frustration. A feeling that seems to, at times, hinder some of my creative thought process. All that to say, I’m not going to do that, at least today.

So, there’s a building across the street from our office. A small building, but large enough to hold a small retail shop. (You know you’ve spent too much time in other cultures when you almost spell ”shop”, “shoppe”.) Nothing wrong with the place on the outside, but something’s wrong with it. I’m sure you’ve encountered these places before. No matter what type of business settles into this building, which by way is on Main Street of our small town, it can’t seem to make it. Just last year friends of mine opened a coffee and “light fare” shop. Great coffee, good food. Incredible decor. Perfect for the area. Busy street, even a lot of foot traffic. (Which is rare anywhere in the South) The place closed down just a few months after it opened. I haven’t lived in the area for too long, but I have yet to see a business keep it’s doors open in this building for more than a few months.

About three weeks ago I noticed that, once again, the building had been purchased. After seeing the less-than-stellar performance of the past entrepreneurs, I figured that someone had finally decided to just open a real estate office or something. A week later my hopes were crushed. A sign was placed on the door. “Coming Soon: Havana Dreams” “Oh no. A cigar shop in Wilkesboro! I think they need to do a little more market research.” You see while there are some interesting cultures and “trendy” places in North Carolina, I wouldn’t describe Wilkesboro as such a place. Small town. Small town vibe. Small town mindset. It’s amazing our new Super Walmart was even built. I think there was actually a petition against it.  Anyway, imagine my suprise when the shop actually opened its doors last week. It’s not a cigar shop at all. It’s a cuban restaurant.

As I stared out the window of my office, watching the middle-aged Cuban man place his sandwich board onto the sidewalk with every bit of pride he could muster, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. (Along, with a sense of looming dread.) In Wilkesboro, an ethnic restaurant is more of a death wish than a cigar shop. The establishment directly across the street from Havana Dreams, the 50′s Snack Bar, serves hundreds of people for breakfast and lunch. But, the 50′s snack bar serves burgers. Fries. Onion rings. Hot dogs. BLT’s. Cottage cheese. Wilkesonians understand this food. Jamon Pierna and Carne Empanadas, not so much.

Back to my inspiration. Here is this man and his wife. Right in the middle of virtually zero ethnic diversity and they open a restaurant spouting a menu which, even in the midst of my traveling lifestyle, even I have not come across. In the midst of a recession at that. That takes… guts. So, I’ve decided to champion their cause. I had my first Cuban sandwich about an hour ago. It was amazing. Pretty much a pennini. Ham, swiss cheese, pork, pickles and mustard on “Cuban” bread, then grilled. Seriously, it was good. I think I’ll go there everyday for a while. I really hope and pray that they make it. Maybe little Havana could break the curse.