Unplug. Let the market be. Have a cold one. Go back to work refreshed with a clean perspective. How could that not make the world a better place?
At the Corner Bar in St. Charles, there's not a worker in sight at lunchtime on baseball's opening day. There's a handful of retirees having a smoke and a beer while watching Access Hollywood on the hi-def.
Even though no one else is eating, I take a seat at the bar and order the day's special -- a roast beef on rye with a bowl of vegetable soup for $4.50. Add a bottle of Stag, and it's still cheaper than the same lunch with a latte instead of a beer at a coffee house.
As I crumbled Saltines into my soup, one old man repeatedly asked the pregnant bartender, "What's higher? A billion or a zillion?" She wasn't interested in talking mathematics; I got the impression this conversation happened often.
Not that she wasn't friendly. When an old man with cotton stuffed into his ears entered, she called, "Hi, Bill," and poured him a Ten High without asking. He drank it standing at the bar, leaving as soon as he finished.
The Corner Bar has a bigger beer selection than any bar I've visited. I almost ordered a Sierra Nevada before remembering that's not the Dive Bomber way. I'm guessing the trendy Sailor Jerry rum and Sweet Carolina sweet-tea vodka don't get much play with the lunch crowd. They're probably there for the Lindenwood College kids who might visit on the weekends to see what a real dive is like.
If Bill's not there with his Ten High and they're not eating a half a pound of deli roast beef with mayo during daylight hours, they're not getting the true experience.