Where Men Gather

There is something about groups of guys and breakfast. At a certain age, men just start gathering in small breakfast tribes all over America. Nobody talks about it. It just happens. One guy mentions a diner. Another guy shows up the next week. Suddenly there are eight men sitting at the same table every Friday discussing weather systems, health issues, the latest technology, and trying to remember that western movie from the 70's.

Nobody calls it community, but it is.

As far as I can tell looking back through my family tree, nobody in my direct family really served in the military. The only ones I remember were a couple half uncles who were in the Navy. Not much was ever discussed. I just remember seeing photographs of them standing there in uniform looking serious. Military life always felt very foreign to me. I have friends and Greenland Sharks who served in the Army and Navy (Go HERE for a hilarious story by Keith), and one currently serves in the reserves. But overall, it has always been a world I respected from a distance because I honestly never understood what that experience must have been like.

This Memorial Day, though, I really want to thank everyone who served. Not in the quick Facebook “flag graphic and move on” kind of way. I mean truly thank you for what you did for the rest of us. There are people who willingly stepped into situations most of us spend our lives hoping to avoid entirely. Meanwhile I complain when a feral cat is on my lawn or the neighbors put a Lime Scooter on the siderwalk in front of my house. Perspective arrives fast sometimes.

My wife, Mother-In-Law, and OG Greenland Shark Pal Greg, and I were driving up to Door County this week and made one of our required stops at Miesfeld's Meat Market. If you know the drive from Chicago to Door County, you know Miesfeld’s. It is impossible to pass without stopping. It’s basically a Wisconsin landmark held together by Jalepeno Cheddar Brats and Cheddar Cheese.

Outside there was a group from DAV — Disabled American Veterans — talking with people and raising money.

Now I have to admit something. I always get a little weirded out when people are outside stores asking for donations. Girl Scout cookies. Firefighters with boots collecting for Muscular Dystrophy. School fundraisers. Part of me always panics because I already bought cookies from the neighbor kids and now I’m trapped standing there like I’m dodging a timeshare presentation. But this interaction instantly felt different.

Partly because the veterans standing there suddenly didn’t seem “older” anymore. There was something oddly familiar. For most of my life, veterans always felt like another generation entirely. Men much older than me. But these guys looked like people I could have gone to high school with. Guys I’d probably end up talking to at a breakfast place for two hours about absolutely nothing and somehow leave feeling better afterward. And they were incredibly nice.

They explained DAV to us a bit. Founded in 1920 by World War I veterans, DAV helps disabled veterans and their families by assisting with healthcare, transportation, benefits, employment, and support services. Real help. Everyday help. The kind of help that matters long after parades and speeches are over. (Seems like they should not have to fundraise for this.)

As we were talking, I noticed flyers for veterans breakfast groups and coffee gatherings. Vietnam veterans meeting at McDonald’s on weekends. Weekly coffee groups. Veterans Day breakfasts. And immediately I thought: of course they have breakfast groups. Because that’s what we do.

Breakfast tables are kind of the last quiet clubhouse for guys. Nobody has to dress up. Nobody has to stay out late. Nobody has to “open up emotionally” under mood lighting while sharing artisanal cocktails with smoke coming out of them. You just show up half awake wearing a quarter zip from 2009 and order eggs how you like them.

There is also something deeply comforting about the routine of it all. Same table. Same waitress. Noel ordering his hash browns “extra crispy” with the seriousness of a hostage negotiator (See the viral Tic Tok link HERE.). The guys who will pay more to always have his coffee cup full. Men love traditions way more than we admit. Especially dumb little traditions.

And breakfast gives us structure without pressure. You show up. You complain about weather, traffic, cholesterol, technology, knees, or why nobody can make toast correctly anymore. You laugh. Somebody tells the same story for the ninth time. Everybody still listens. Then everyone goes home in a few hours not remembering what the heck we talked about.

The older I get, the more I think the breakfast table itself becomes the point. Not the food. Not even the conversation sometimes. Just the gathering. The consistency. The comfort of seeing the same faces still showing up.

I think that’s what I recognized seeing those veterans groups. Beneath all the service and sacrifice — which deserves enormous respect — there was also something else there that felt familiar. Brotherhood. Community. Men quietly taking care of each other without making a giant production out of it.

That matters more than we probably say out loud.

As men get older, simply having a place where people know your name, know your order, notice when you’re missing, and slide into your favorite chair (We have discussion if you like to look outside or who may be coming for you at the front door) every week becomes surprisingly important. Quietly important.

So this Memorial Day, I’m thankful for the veterans who served this country and for organizations like DAV that continue helping them long after the uniforms come off. And honestly, I’m thankful for breakfast tables too. Because sometimes that’s where men keep each other going.

About Greenland Sharks

Greenland Sharks is a Chicago men's group who value friendship, experiences, and the long swim. Just a crew that shows up. No speeches. No name tags. No nonsense.

Learn more about Greenland Sharks