Reader

Follow-up from last week:

1. My year (or more) supply of NA craft beer and seltzer from Athletic Brewing arrived! I don't treat myself often, so this was good fun. This arrangement also helps prevent our daughter from climbing on the bench and going through the railing to bypass the gate.💪 If you ever happen to be in town, come have a drink with me.🍻
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2. I'm enjoying Dry January. This shipment will help. Anyone Trying Dry with me? 🤝
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3. ​The Direct Care Derm podcast has been a ton of fun and has garnered some nice feedback, including five 5-star ratings and three reviews on Apple Podcasts. It also has 248 listens as of this writing. Not bad for one week! I'm grateful for your support.

A Gift From My Brother

The following is an excerpt from a memoir my late brother, Jim Lewellis, started writing during the pandemic.

It comes from a time he was living in New York City, now about 20 years ago. During this particular time, he was working as the bartender at Josh Dechellis' now defunct restaurant, Sumile.

I loved hearing his stories about serving the likes of David Byrne and others, as you'll see.

Without further ado (added emphases links are mine):

"I had the pleasure of serving many well-known chefs, but my most memorable service was with a guy who hadn’t quite made it yet.

Usually if we had a VIP chef in the house, I’d get a briefing on exactly who he/she was and what they liked (e.g., “This is Scott Bryan. Do __, don’t do __.”)

I didn’t get a briefing for this guy who appeared to be roughly my age [Jim would have been ~28 years-old at that time].

Nobody even told me he was a chef; however, I asked him if he was.

He smiled and replied, “Yeah, how did you know?”

I pointed to the burns across his thick forearms and he laughed.

We talked throughout his entire tasting menu. I told him about Erika working at Craftbar and mentioned that he had previously worked at Craft, which was Craftbar’s fancier older brother where I had my first serious New York meal four years earlier.

I wish I could remember more of what we talked about, but we laughed a lot, and I do remember how he made me feel. He related to me as a fellow human being rather than just a server.

Before he left, he invited Erika and me to his restaurant for lunch the next day. He wrote the following on a bar napkin that I wish I still had: Momofuku - 1st Ave between 10th and 11th.

I came home that night and told Erika about this cool guy, Dave, who invited us to his restaurant for lunch.

We showed up at Momofuku the next day around 1:00pm, and we were among very few people there. It had been open for less than a year and had yet to gain traction with the lunch crowd.

Dave was super busy in the kitchen but still came out to talk with us for a few minutes.

The broth and everything in it was absurdly good, and we were waved off when we attempted to pay. We left the customary cash tip for his staff (roughly the amount of what our tab would’ve been before tax and tip, which is the same he did for me the night before).

I wouldn’t learn that his last name was Chang until several years later."

Share Your Story Before It's Too Late — Someone Needs It

Jim shared this excerpt with our brother, Matt, and me a few years ago after I devoured David Chang's raw, vulnerable, and inspiring memoir Eat a Peach and raved to them both about it.

I fondly remember eating at Momofuku Noodle Bar, the restaurant Jim wrote about, with my girlfriend at the time and now wife while we lived in NYC during graduate school.

When Jim ate there, at least, it was ramen before ramen was something Americans queued up for. Pretty cool.

Dave is a rockstar now. His restaurants, now in NYC, Las Vegas, and Los Angeles, are well-oiled machines that still serve great food and hospitality.

He's become a media powerhouse and is an investor and innovator for products he cares about and thinks the world deserves. Want to confidently and safely cook just about anything in your microwave? Try Anyday (not an affiliate link but I do have them and love using them). Want some great seasonings for cooking at home? Try Momofuku Seasoned Salts — Savory is my favorite, but Spicy is awesome on pizza — and Chili Crunch (also not affiliate links — I wish!).

And Momofuku Noodle Bar is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. 👏🍜🍑

What I shared with you is likely the only part of Jim's memoir anyone will ever have the gift of reading.

The remainder, however far he got, is locked away on his laptop and perhaps in the iCloud, both secured by Apple's superlative privacy standards and our very human way of not imagining and planning for death before it becomes imminent.

As one of my favorite authors, Kurt Vonnegut, often wrote in the face of atrocity, tragedy, and absurdity, so it goes...

So share you story… before it's too late. As my Dad often said during sermons, tell what you have seen and heard.

You never know who might need to hear it, and no one else has a story quite like you do.

Memento Mori

In a recent post that I called Remember that you [have to] die, I reflected on the concept of a memento mori.

Per Wikipedia via the Oxford English Dictionary:

“Memento mori (Latin for 'remember that you [have to] die') is an artistic or symbolic trope acting as a reminder of the inevitability of death.

The concept has its roots in the philosophers of classical antiquity and Christianity, and appeared in funerary art and architecture from the medieval period onwards.”
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​I wear this Swatch (a favorite brand of mine — I like it simple and I tend to lose things) watch as my memento mori.

The watch belonged to Jim, who was an avid watch enthusiast and collector.

The battery is dead. I like it that way.

The stillness of the hands reminds me that time, for each of us, eventually runs out, sometimes much more abruptly and painfully than we can possibly imagine or anticipate.

It also reminds me of him.

I encourage you to think about what is or could be your memento mori.

Podcast

Don't miss the latest episode of the pod that drops today.

I had a great conversation with Dr. Adam Swigost, a fellow board-certified dermatologist who just opened his direct care practice, Dapper Dermatology, currently serving residents all over his home state of North Dakota.

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As usual, I'd like to express my gratitude to each of you for being one of my first 70 subscribers! It means the world to me, and any constructive feedback you may have is welcome.
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​I want this to be of value to you. As you can probably tell by now, this isn't all about dermatology.

It's important for me to think and communicate beyond the bounds of my day-to-day clinical practice. Not only is that fun, but I hope it also helps potential clients better understand who I am so they can make an informed decision.

If you know anyone who may enjoy or benefit from this newsletter, please share this with them or send them here to sign up and get a free gift from me.

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Talk soon,

Stephen

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P.S. — The Treat Yo'self Skincare Giveaway courtesy of my friends and partners at RegimenPro (thanks, Jodi and Courtney!) ends at the end of the day today — Thursday, January 10th! See below to learn more about RegimenPro.

They've generously donated well over $600 worth of great skincare products to make this worthwhile.

You can earn chances to win in four different ways: downloading, following/subscribing, leaving an honest review, and/or sharing the podcast.

We're using the Honor System for this. If you want in and you haven't done so already, just send me a quick list of what you did. I trust you.

Any number of downloads = 1 chance; follow/subscribe = 2 chances; sharing somewhere within your network = 3 chances; honest rating and review = 4 chances.

Thanks again for the support!

And I still do anticipate that my virtual direct care dermatology practice will be open to residents of Wisconsin before the end of January, so stay tuned for that as well.