Ye Hare 'n Hound Inn

Frosty windowpanes, just like you see in the movies. Soft jazz floating among the rafters. A quiet street with lake Chautauqua darkly beckoning. A picture disturbed by a waft of overpowering cologne. It snapped me into the reality of what had been happening around us at this quaint and cozy English-Inn-replica.
As soon as we walked in, there were a few looks. These were not just looks of curiosity. They felt like looks of do-you-belong-here? This fine eating establishment is located in Bemus Point, New York. It was a bit of a quiet kind of town that probably thrives when there isn't a foot of snow on the ground. The service was great, but the voices from the tables around carried. Maybe all these people knew each other in passing. Maybe these people saw us pull up in an oversized work van from Indiana. Or maybe our threads didn't meet approval...the fact that I was wearing a $2.80 leopard print shirt under a CAbi jacket was not lost on me. Maybe, just maybe, I was being self-conscious...not likely, since it would take more than entering a restaurant to make me self-conscious.
The girl behind my husband seemed to be trying to check me out to see if I passed an unspoken standard. She was well put together, but not over the top. I quickly dismissed any looks I was getting.
There were two tables of four behind us, though. All looked like they could be old money...retired, comfortable. One table was just louder than I would expect at such an establishment. They didn't talk about much of import other than sharing stories of their collective pasts and so and so's illness, etcetera. The second table was the one I take the most issue with....and even that's an overstatement. I should just say, they caused me to pause and reflect briefly on a growing malcontent of mine.
The larger man at this table, who we humorously renamed "The Judge" (dig into your old Rodney Dangerfield movies), was pontificating about the current political scene. I quickly dismissed what he said, because it seems his audience was not the other three at his table, but anyone who would listen.
I stopped listening as I realized we are all on a continuum of sorts, be it intellectually, monetarily, or socially. Everyone is in someone else's ivory tower and it's easy for us to cast stones at those who have more than we...however when do we consider giving up some of what we have in order to assist someone lower on the continuum? I don't suppose this fellow would give up his status in order to allow someone else to reach an equivalent status. I also wonder who I'll tick off when I suggest that we have our own caste system right here in this country, but no one wants to claim that they are the privileged class. It's always someone higher than they.
Instead of spewing on so everyone can hear, why don't we do something about it? Why don't we enlighten ourselves, facilitate others' growth, and keep it going. I know, I know, I'm an idealist. Yes, and an optimist, too. If we don't do something now, though, maybe our democracy won't withstand the pressure building from within the walls of this country. Before pointing a finger at others, let's look at the three fingers pointing back at ourselves, so that we can move forward more intelligently.
Regardless of the bloviating surrounding us and the pressure cooker I feel we live in currently in this country, last night it was just my hubby and me. Man and wife. Engineer and Educator--enjoying each other, in the moment, without regard to the problems of the world. It is something I hope to continue to do for a very, very, very long time.