I was drinking an iced triple espresso on Sunday morning when I noticed that something was missing. The round table in the center of my local Starbucks was empty.
No Tom.
No Steve, Dave, Jim, Warren, or Paul, either.
Nobody at all, in fact.
There was no early morning discussion about the Ducks, Beavers, Huskies, Cougars, and Blazers. No bellyaching about coaching decisions or poor officiating in the previous night’s games. No talk about politics, either. Just a bunch of empty chairs and silence in place of where a bunch of retired guys gather most mornings.
“Not on Sundays,” the barista told me.