A Moment of Silence

In recent years, the hubby and I and my mom and her husband have gone up to Ptown almost every year and usually off-season. We love the quiet, the beauty, and the feeling of having the town to ourselves.

Because it's the off-season, most of the restaurants in town are closed, particularly the breakfast places, and so that's how we discovered the Post Office Cafe (which my husband swears makes the world's best pancakes) and its spirited manager Dixie. During a typical weeklong stay, we eat at the Post Office five of the seven days. Exchanging banter with Dixie has become one of the highlights of our trips and one of the things we looked forward to each year.

And so, we were very saddened this weekend to learn that Dixie tragically died from a fall a couple of weeks ago.

If you Google "Dixie" and "Provincetown," you'll get a sense of how well-known and loved he was. And there are certainly many others who knew him better and longer than we did. But I couldn't let the death of the only person who ever called me "bitch" and got away with it go unremarked.

Dixie, we'll miss you. P-town is a little bit emptier.