This reminded me: I can and do keep secrets, but I don't like to. I will, because sometimes it's important to do so, but I'd rather not.
I'm lucky. Most of the secrets I know are neat secrets, that I can look back on and think "Hey, that is (or was) cool." This secret was dispiriting because the news connected to it is dispiriting, especially after literally years of being as good a Big-Ass Sandwiches supporter as I could be. I did what I could; Brian, Lisa and their crew did so much. (Hell, their crew welcomed even me, during my scant four times working the front window at the original cart location in Old Town in spring 2012. And I saw a little, and got a sense, of how hard they all worked.) They tried. I respect that so much.
Meanwhile, no, I won't tell you the neat secrets. Or any of the secrets, because people I love trust me not to do so. I'm lucky another way: I really don't have many secrets. I worry about the effect of having too many. But if I have them, I protect them. I can at least do that.