Candor or Privacy

After much soul searching (women do that about their coiffures) I recently changed beauty salons.  There are many things I prefer about the new location, but one was an unexpected fringe benefit.

There is a Starbucks two doors down from the facility where I have my hair done weekly.  It has definitely added to the pleasure of my Friday mornings.  Immediately after leaving the salon, I walk approximately twenty steps and indulge in a Java Chip Frappuccino.

As any woman can tell you, an hour in the beauty salon is equivalent to a morning on a psychiatrist’s couch, possibly even more so.  And then to top it off with the indulgence of a gourmet coffee and sometimes (when I really feel adventurous) a small packet of the Madeleines stacked neatly next to the counter is indeed a pleasure.

But I think that is about to end.  And it makes me sad.

I am an incredibly private person.  My political and religious views are held close to my heart, and shared only with the immediate family and a few treasured friends.  I am sorry Howard Schultz, but there is a distinct difference between candor and the privilege of privacy.

Perhaps it goes back to the years when my Dad and I would spend Sunday afternoons strolling the sidewalks of New York.  We usually headed east toward Columbus Circle, and in those days prior to the magnificent Time Warner Building, there were normally between three and six orators.  As a child I was fascinated by their voices, each louder than the other, and the cluster of listeners surrounding each speaker.  I would question my Father about why he didn’t join in with the questions or the affirmations, and he would say, “There is a time and place for everything.  And this isn’t it.”

And now so many decades later, I totally reaffirm his belief.  There is a time and place for political and religious discussion, and frankly, when I am purchasing and savoring a luxurious drink, I do not wish to indulge in a political or sociological discussion.

So unfortunately, I will now change my weekly excursion and depart from indulging in my drink of choice.  I have been told that a mere half mile down the road there is a Dunkin’ Donuts, and their Cappuccino is incredible.  Perhaps I will even try a muffin.