Greetings!!!

It has been quite a week. I am post bilateral hernia surgery and on the road to recovery. Which means I am a tad grouchy because I can't do much. Not that I like to do much, but I do like to have the choice about it all. 

My surgery was held at the now closed St. Vincent's hospital. St. Vincent's was a very important hospital in New York. It was where our primary population of HIV and Aid's patients received the bulk of their care. At one point, post surgery, a nurse and I practically bawled as we talk about it.

Anyhow...I am saving Hernia updates for next week. This weeks EZine is about another subject that is also very dear to my heart!

"See" you all soon!

Dr. Eric

Won Jo is dead!

Yup, I know, you can't believe it, and well neither could we. For those who are not in the know, Won Jo is the New York Korean restaurant that brought my partner and I together. He had been going there at least 4 or 5 years prior to our meeting and I had been a regular there 2 or 3 nights a week for about 4 years prior to our getting together. That's a grand total of about 30 years collectively or 15 years each!

I should correct myself here by saying, it is not closed. About two months ago it closed for renovations and recently reopened as the "new" and "improved" version of the restaurant we knew and loved. Our hearts fluttering with anticipation we agreed to go there for lunch this past week.

Sheepishly we looked inside for a familiar face.

There she was, the same woman (Ajima) at the cash register, but alas, that would be all that would really be familiar.

The décor looked liked it was chosen out of a modern catalog of what an "Asian" restaurant should look like. From the "art" on the walls to the "pretty" granite looking wall tiles in the bathroom. All was different, neutered, ruined. Gone were the old Korean wallboards and stands that divided a table from your neighbor's.

Gone were the old hoods above the tables (that never really worked anyhow) - replaced by new modern telescopic ones.

Gone were the specials hand-written on the walls.

Gone was the shouting upstairs to let the floor manager know people were coming up - replaced with body guard type ear pieces and microphones.

Gone were all the "regular" Asian guests who are now replaced mostly by tourists.

And, worst of all, gone were most of the people we had grown to love and care about - who would ask us where we were if we missed a week. There had been a great diaspora of the staff after the restaurant closed, and we collected as much information as we could.

Won Jo was our meeting place, but it was also a place where we would bring those we loved and cared about to as well. Many gustatory adventures took place at Won jo and many first times for dozens of our friends.

In a world filled with so much change, these seemingly little touchstones become very important, at least to me. Yes, I know the Buddhist idea of attachment could be bandied about but seriously, who cares about that right now?

An anchor in our lives, a part of our history, our present and our future is gone and I am left to grieve.

There will be no more fuss made over us when we go there any more (if we ever go there again). No special dishes prepared for us, no discussion of what the kim chee lady made this week. No more me utilizing what little Korean I have. No more of the waitresses coming over and congratulating me on getting skinnier. No more yummy food. No more seeing my partner's eyes light up when the kim chee chigae would arrive.

It's over. What we had is no more.

A chapter in our lives closes as a restaurant changes to something else, something we are not used to nor do we want to get "used to it."

There is a reason I watch The Golden Girls, I Love Lucy and The Odd Couple reruns.

Yes, they are still funny, and yes, they are done very, very well - but more than that they are a part of my history, a part of my life, and they are reliable.

As I mentioned before, in a world where everything seems to be in a state of constant flux, reliability is an significant aspect of relationships. Being reliable, finding reliable people, being in a reliable relationship. Some might call it stability. I like words like reliable, dependable, and stable.

These are foundational aspects, building blocks, if you will of any relationship. With yourself, with others, or even with a restaurant.

You might be thinking at this point, hey mate, what about novelty? Novelty is great, important, generates excitement and may even be the starting point to a potentially great relationship, but it is not the main ingredient.