Why Replenishing the Restaurant Revitalization Fund Protects Democracy

Actually 'being together' is no longer the default, but the niche

When I opened my first restaurant, I spent so much time there my mom sent me a twin bed for Christmas. The mattress company delivered it right to the back dock of the restaurant like a produce order. We tucked it in a corner of dry storage so I’d have a place to crash on the late and sometimes tipsy nights restaurant openings require.

For a long time that restaurant — at the end of a dusty alley in Santa Fe, New Mexico — felt more like home than my real home did. I knew its quirks, dimmer switches, fuzzy speakers, funky smells. I knew how to make it glow with music and flowers and candles so that when it filled up with people it seemed to lift off into another dimension.

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