Merry Christmas to the Merchants!

We should all do more to celebrate our local merchants. They connect the community through hard work, great risk, tremendous creativity, and service, and yet too often, they do not get the appreciation they deserve. The hours can be grueling. The customers are variously unruly. Supply chains are frustrating. Dealing with taxes and regulations seems often impossible. They’ve dealt with awful inflation and then been scapegoated for it! 

And yet they are there for all of us day in and day out, making our lives better. 

The regime has been at war with these people, most egregiously with lockdown but then inflation and more regulation attacked them further. Somehow they have survived.

There is so much I want to say to so many. 

To my local cobbler: you did an amazing job putting that new sole on my shoes. They are better than ever. That rainy night on the streets of Manhattan when somehow the sole fell off and I could not find it in the dark was a strange one. I had to walk for several blocks to the train station with my left foot getting soaked. I figured that the shoes were toast. 

Nope, you figured it out. Now they have a second life. I simply cannot imagine how you do it, working all day on your machinery that has been in service since 1912. It’s like magic, straight out of the great fairy tales right into my town. These days, people buy shoes and throw them out when they break but you are there to serve those who know better: buy great shoes and befriend a great cobbler. 

To the Portuguese baker and his wife who made that amazing loaf of bread I just bought from your store. It’s the bread I always wanted but have never been able to find. The outside is dark and crunchy and the inside is puffy and perfect for soaking up oil. It’s clearly made with a starter, probably one kept for decades in the family. I have no idea how you have so much bread available every day for so many, and I get now there is a line out front. I’m so glad you do what you do. 

I bought three loaves and gave the other two away. The recipients think I’m generous and kind but that praise should go to you. All I did was give you $5. You did the rest, even though you don’t know me, had no idea I was planning to show up, and don’t know if you will ever see me again. I also thought it was charming how you were completely nonplussed about all my praises! 

And speaking of bakers, to the Argentinian baker just a few doors down from me: your treats are always magic. There is something about most American desserts that are too sweet and icky but you don’t do that. When I eat your fruit tarts or even your cheese danish, I don’t get a sugar rush. It has the sense of being genuine food, which is why I can always rely on you to have them for all dinner parties. 

Then there are the bakers of baklava who sell their goods to the Pakistani/Halal store down the street. Those are irresistible but so many things in this store are. I know nowhere else that I can buy water buffalo butter. I just like it better; don’t know why. 

And you also taught me how to use rendered butter, called ghee, to fry up paratha bread of which you offer a huge selection, in addition to all the spices from the world over. And your prices, I swear they are one-fifth of what I would pay at a fancy grocery. 

And to the fishmongers a mile away: I will soon come back to experiment more with all those shellfish you sold me. I made a wonderful fish stew. It’s utterly beyond me how it is that you have so much fresh fish for sale every day, and how you prepare it all for each customer in a way that fits with their requests, and do it right there on the spot. Plus your fresh vegetables are the best, including those larger-than-softball sized sweet potatoes I’ve otherwise never seen before. 

Fish and veggies: that’s all you sell. But you are a mighty institution for it. 

To the meat cutter two miles away: may you long prosper. I’ve come to the place where I don’t want beef from anywhere else. When I went on a grass-fed kick, you helped me understand that this is not the magic point of quality. There are other considerations, and you convinced me with a taste test. 

That 10-pound rib roast you made up just for me was astonishing, and you explained precisely how to cook it. There is no better Italian sausage anywhere. And, my goodness, last week when it seemed like an impromptu dinner party was happening, I called and you were staying late. I said I needed 10 thick-cut New York strips and you put down the phone and came right back and said you can do it. Twenty minutes later you were standing at the door with my bag as I drove up. What a gift! 

And the conversations I enjoy with the other patrons are always so interesting. There is a reason that your store has been a center of local socializing. 

And to the furrier downtown: I love to come in and look, simply because I used to sell furs when I was in college. It’s great that you are still around doing a wonderful business despite all the woke attacks on your enterprise. To this day, the fur is glamorous and wonderful and no hysterical movement of activists is going to change that. You still have the most beautiful coats for sale. And your rack of repurposed used furs is a delight, with affordable prices for everyone. 

I’m so grateful for the large and old Chinese restaurant down the street, always ready to host large parties and with a varied menu of authentic or US-style dishes. The interior of the place, especially the fish tank, recalls memories of my grandfather, who was a wholesale merchant. He had chronic eczema on his hands so he sold to communities that did not require handshakes. That meant the Asian community. He always took me to his friend’s restaurants. Going into this one reminds me of those days. 

To the wonderful homeopath who runs a health food store: I’m so grateful that you decided to go from healing medicine to healing food. You carry raw milk and I’m always there for it. I had no idea that this was even a thing one year ago but now I’m convinced it is what I need. I do not understand the science beyond believing that the fewer industrialized processes through which food is put, the healthier it is for us. I’m glad you took the risk to open a store. It’s humble, even stark, but you serve the entire community. I have no idea what you had to go through to make this possible but I’m sure there is a story there. 

To all the local farmers with your little retail shops: I’m so glad that you exist despite all the odds. There was that day when you ran out of corn and the husband/owner hopped on the little truck to pick some more and bring it right back in to sell to the waiting customers. My genuine hope is that life becomes easier for you under the new administration. In fact, I would like to see thousands more farms just like yours pop up and give industrialized agriculture a run for its money. 

And the hardware store downtown! It’s still locally owned, with workers who know the residents and also know how to do things. They know every wrench, every screwdriver, every cleaning potion. This place carries a big bucket of TSP that I use for laundry, and it is a product not available on Amazon. They know I’m not buying it for painting and everyone winks and nods. I’m thrilled that this place somehow survived the lockdowns, during which time they were shut down while Home Depot was allowed to stay open. 

There are so many heroes in our neighborhoods, and these are just some of mine. There is also the tailor, the frame company, the thrift store, the antiques dealer, the pizzeria, and the owners of the local theater who figured out how to boost their revenue by serving burgers and beers in one’s seat. 

These merchants give the community life and meaning, bringing us together, helping us meet new people, and meeting all our needs. You give us gifts year-round.