I wrote my first newsletter nearly 5 years ago, just a couple months before the shop opened. We didn't really know each other, so I kept it pretty short and sweet. One detail I left out from that very first story was that my second grade teacher drove an old Datsun B210 that had a personalized license plate, a celebration of her partnership with her husband, Richard. I presume she meant for her license plate to read "Me and Richard" (or, more succinctly, “Me & Dick”) but with 7 character limitations, it just spelled out: MEANDIK. We got a lot of mileage out of that joke as little kids.

For the past couple years, I've walked or driven past a white hatchback with vanity plates in my neighborhood. Parking is wretched so my encounters were here and there on the blocks. The joke was simple: a chunky little bright white cube of a car, it's plate just four letters: FETA. I was almost embarrassed at the amount of cheer it brought me. Particularly in the dim of this last year. At times it would just elicit a swift smirk or a familiar nod, other days I'd find myself scanning the block for that cheesy little lift I needed. One morning last month I was driving my daughter to daycare and passed a woman dangling her keys, about to get into her car. Into FETA! For reasons I can't explain, I stopped just along side and rolled down the window. We love FETA! came out of my mouth before I could stop it. As it turned out, she was leaving the neighborhood that very day, and moving back to Atlanta. Nooooooo!!! I gasped, at a decibel disproportionate to a stranger's news, and certainly a bit too loud for that early hour.

What’s wrong, daddy? my startled 3 year old inquired from the back seat. Feta is leaving... I replied, surprising myself at the level of despair audible in the delivery. And embarrassed when I realized the driver had clearly heard that too. FETA's mom continued on: This year and everything... this living is tough, ya know? Then she added just before getting behind the wheel: I bet you’ll find something else silly around to make you smile. I'm not sure if that was directed to my daughter or to me.

And she was right. About finding other absurd new things to keep our spirits up. But she was kind of wrong too. Because sitting here this morning, weeks later, it's still FETA putting a ridiculous smile on my face.

Here's hoping you're finding something ridiculous to embrace this week. That absurd joys find you. And if you scan your block and come up empty, we'll be here for you, as always.

Happy Thursday,

Daniel