Connecticut Casual

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It was a cool December evening. The northern fog rolled over the Greenwich hills as the night began writing it’s chapter of the evening. We initially made plans to stay in that night, however my fiancée wanted to wear her new Saint Laurent boots out on the town and I agreed to accompany her in a Cucinelli sport coat.

The head chef at L’Escale, a French Wine Bar on Steamboat Road, and I grew up on the same street in the Midwest, and he assured me that I was always guaranteed a table if I ever was in the mood for an artistic dining experience. We arrived at the restaurant once the the bottom half of the sun sank below the horizon, only to reappear the following day. I have always admired the layout of the restaurant. The tables were arranged in such a manner where you could enjoy a profound meal, while at the same time, you could just as easily intercept a pair of wondering eyes at any moment. I guess I am just a fan of the irony.

The waiter seated us in my usual spot, the second to last table next to the window. I romanticized with the idea of me dining with the water on the other side of the glass. It seemed like a relatively busy night for the help, which I liked because I find circumstances to be more intimate when you’re surrounded by chaos. Once we ordered our meal, my fiancé excused herself to the powder room. The waiter brought me a tarragon and tonic, and my fiancée their best Cabernet. My eyes wondered throughout the room, appreciating the fine atmosphere of what Connecticut has to offer.

I think it was at that moment where I felt a sense of humility like I have never felt before. I made it, I achieved what I wanted to achieve in my life: marrying the most wonderful woman, being able to provide her what ever it may be she wants, building and living in a home that I designed along side architect, Phillip Johnson, and knowing that if I were to die right now, I would have nothing to regret.

It was at that moment, the moment where I sat there alone in the corner of L’Escale, where I could not be more thankful for the chair in which I was currently sitting.

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Model of Thinking 1

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I think a good model, in terms of how to behave, is to think about how your actions would be perceived if they were written about on the front page of The New York Times tomorrow.

Your friends and family would open up the paper, read it, and the article would then accurately describe your behavior. Is that a story you would like for them to read to learn more about the wonderful things you are doing? Or, is it a story that would cause them to think ill of you?

If your actions would cause your friends to become concerned if they understood the facts on the front page of The Times, then you shouldn’t do whatever it is that you’re contemplating on doing.