Bowls of Broth And Sticks of Meat

Shunyi’s big.  The Shunyi county I lived in for a decade was the end buttressed up against Chaoyang.  This morning I’m going to a corporate training center way out on the other side of Shunyi county.  I’m reviewing a training I gave about fourteen months ago.  They want me to do something similar today. This is a company that does good business in the United States.  I intend to tell these young people to be brave, confident and humble. 

I thought the ride from Wang Jing out here this morning was long, but heading back into  Sal Lai Tun, is more time than it would take to fly to Shanghai  I write the friend and he tells me to head to the Bookworm.  I was only there last evening learning that the tried corner of literary Beijing was finally have the dreaded zhai spray-painted on its walls. 

We we’d had our share of meetings here before.  And as I approached he was talking to a film crew, who stopped when I approached.  He took them it was longer a good time and they left. Big hugs and smiles and stories of all that we need to do. This is the person you’re going to meet. 

He wanted something local and I remembered a joint with a respectable election of grilled things and soon we were down in that neon basement with bowls broth and sticks of meat and pickled things.  He’s is happy.  I am happy.  The young lady just brought two large classes of beer.

Friday, 11/08/19