the proverbial bush. His keen mind, bold demeanor, and goal-oriented nature had served him very well in business over the years, but still came across as a bit intimidating to Ben, even at almost twenty-one years of age.
“Yes, sir, there sure are. I’ve certainly been carefully weighing my options for the past few months. You and Mom are always a big help, though, when it comes to providing support for my choices.” Be friendly, act responsible, elicit feedback, but stay in the driver’s seat—that’ll be my strategy here, Ben thought to himself. Don’t want to antagonize them but don’t want them making decisions for me either. I’ll just play along with this and see where it goes, he reasoned.
“Ok, my men…dinner’s ready,” Margaret’s voice interrupted. “You can discuss all this while we eat. I haven’t gone to all this effort just to stand here and let it get cold. Come on, fill up your plates and let’s sit out on the deck and enjoy this beautiful July evening!”
In the Amani home, the great room housed the food preparation, dining, and living areas all under one huge vaulted ceiling. Then, beyond the wall of glass on the east side, was a likewise enormous deck that extended the living area outdoors when the weather was nice, and provided an even more dramatic view of downtown Portland and beyond to Mt. Hood in the distance. The “open kitchen” concept also had other advantages, as the irresistible smells emanating from Margaret’s kitchen inevitably permeated the entire room, as was certainly the case tonight. Ben savored the aromas of his favorite foods as the family filled their plates from the kitchen island and headed toward one of the multiple sets of French doors leading to the patio and their outdoor dining area. Near the table was another beautiful stone fireplace, where Margaret had built a nice, crackling fire just to keep things cozy and comfortable. Evenings on the hill, even in July, tended to cool off quickly, and Ben noticed that the thermometer was already registering 65 degrees, a drop of 5 degrees just since the sun had disappeared. He had many fond memories of dining out there, especially in the summer months, when the evening temperature was cool enough for a fire yet warm enough to make eating outside a delight. The twinkling lights of the city below were even more inviting next to the warm glow of the logs in the fireplace, and he always looked forward to that special ambience, teamed, of course, with his mother’s culinary triumph of the day.
Margaret Cohen Amani was a great cook and took pride in providing her family with delicious and nutritious meals. In fact, she had met Anwar while she was a graduate student in clinical nutrition at NYU and had often bragged that it was her cooking skills rather than her good looks that had won his father’s heart! Needless to say, their cultural diversity (New York Jew weds Iranian Muslim!) posed a particular challenge to her culinary repertoire, but over the years, she had succeeded quite well with integrating Middle Eastern cuisine with the foods she was accustomed to. Not only that, but Ben had fortunately grown up with almost no exposure to the SAD (standard American diet), a benefit that he was only now beginning to realize. In the Amani home, there had been no junk food, no sodas, no overly refined processed foods—really, almost none of the foods he had been barraged with since leaving home. His tall, lean, and muscular body was a testament to Margaret’s insistence on a diet full of organic vegetables, fruits, and occasional wild or grass-fed meats. It was always a pleasure to enjoy one of her meals, and he was grateful that tonight she had selected his favorite foods.
“Mom, I never realized it when I was growing up, but now I really appreciate all the great-tasting and nutritious meals you fixed us. I just can’t believe the stuff the kids at school eat. It’s no wonder that most of them are way overweight. On top of that, lots of them drink, smoke, get almost no exercise, and sleep very little. Then they’re puzzled why they do poorly on their exams. Duh!”
“Yes, Benji”—she just couldn’t help calling him that!—“my education was a blessing not only to me, but to a lot of people, including my family. Your father’s Middle Eastern background helped a lot too, since that diet is really a pretty healthy one as well. Teaching you the importance of a good diet was a top priority for me, and I’m pleased that you realize the value of that now. Your father’s getting to be my challenge now—just look at him! I’ll bet he’s put on forty pounds since you left home!”
“Hey you two! Enough of the food talk. We didn’t invite Ben here to talk about diet! He’s got some important choices to make about grad school next year, and I was kind of hoping he would follow in my footsteps and maybe take over the family business before too long. How about it, Ben? Have you been thinking much about that? I sure hope I haven’t slaved all these years for nothing!”
Anwar Amani had emigrated from Iran to New York City with his family when he was only seven years of age. He was a precocious child, quickly adapting to American ways and always excelling in school. Growing up in the penicillin era, where great strides were being made in conquering infectious diseases, Anwar was strongly attracted to pharmaceutical science and was, in fact, attending the Schwartz College of Pharmacy when he met Margaret, while giving a community lecture on phyto-based pharmaceuticals. Anwar’s brilliance and strong work ethic did not go unrewarded, as he soon opened his first drugstore there in Brooklyn, which he later expanded to a regional chain and finally sold in 1995 for an obscene amount of money. The family then relocated to Portland, Oregon, and purchased their present home in the west hills overlooking the city. Anwar quickly became restless and started another local drugstore, which he expanded into a compounding pharmacy in early 2000 and continued to operate from its present Burnside Street location, relatively near his home. Ben was keenly aware that his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps, but had never been too keen on that prospect, largely due to his mother’s more natural, holistic, and proactive perspective. His parents’ diverging philosophies about health care had been the subject of many a lively debate around their home, and Ben was sure that tonight would follow suit. His preferences were more in line with his mother’s thinking, however, and he hoped to develop a health-oriented career geared more toward prevention than treatment. He wasn’t looking forward to disappointing his father, though, and had been thinking for some time about how to respond to the question that, as he had expected, his father had just posed.
Taking his fork and toying with his eggplant for a moment, Ben sighed and reckoned it was now or never. “Dad,” he began with some trepidation, “I really appreciate all you’ve done for our family, as I’m sure Mom does too. We never lacked for anything, and I have always admired your knowledge and your good business sense. You built an amazing company back in New York, and I’m sure you could do it again here if you wanted to. You and Mom have taught me a lot about health care, and as you know, I have been leaning in that direction career-wise for some time now. I realize that you would love to see me go to pharmacy school and take over the family business, and I’m very flattered that you think me a worthy successor to yourself. I also think that down deep, you probably suspect, although I know you hate to admit it, that I just don’t have the same qualities or interests that you do. And Mom, before the tug-of-war even starts, I’m pretty sure that you would like me to be a nutritionist like yourself and work to prevent a lot of the chronic diseases that we’re seeing these days.”
Anwar, becoming restless at this last statement, interrupted, “But Ben, surely you don’t think you can make the kind of money that I do trying to get people to eat right, do you? Son, someday you’re going to have a family to support, and that may be fine for your mother, but hardly for you!”
“Now wait a minute, Anwar.” Margaret put down her eating utensils and stared directly at her husband. “You really don’t think money should be Benji’s primary consideration for choosing an occupation, do you? Surely you know that all those drugs you sell would be unnecessary for the most part if people understood and practiced a healthy lifestyle and diet, don’t you?”
“So you’ve always said,” Anwar snapped back, “but we’re talking Ben’s livelihood here. He could help people and make a ton of money in the process if he built on the foundation I’ve already laid for him. All the years I’ve been nurturing this business, I’ve always had Ben in the back of my mind, hoping I could give him a really good start in life with a respectable career and a great job already waiting for him! What kid wouldn’t love to walk into that scenario?” Anwar looked incredulously back at Margaret, then at Ben. “I love you, son. I’ve always