One of the great things about traveling with two of my bosses—Clyde and his son Trey—is the ever-present struggle between maintaining old world relationships and moving our company into the new age. We spent a few hours today having lunch at the home of Clyde's friends, drinking red Burgundies so old school and funky that I almost couldn't hang. While I didn't care for the wines, the whole situation was absolutely hilarious; especially when they brought out the loaf of pâté en crôute. My colleague Alex was ready to bury his head in the sand, while Clyde kept drinking these vegetal, drying, course pinot noirs and maintaining the dialogue. I loved every minute of it. And every bite of that French meatloaf.