Dictionaries Are Always Fun, But Not Always

It Is Puzzling To Me That Otherwise Sensitive People Develop A Real Docility About The Obvious Necessity Of Eating, At Least Once A Day, In Order To Stay Alive. Often They Lose Their Primal Enjoyment Of Flavors And Odors And Textures To The Point Of Complete Unawareness. And If Ever They Question This Progressive Numbing-off, They Shrug Helplessly In The Face Of Mediocrity Everywhere. Bit By Bit, Hour By Hour, They Say, We Are Being Forced To Accept The Not-so-good As The Best, Since There Is Little That Is Even Good To Compare It With.

There Are May Of Us Who Cannot But Feel Dismal About The Future Of Various Cultures. Often It Is Hard Not To Agree That We Are Becoming Culinary Nitwits, Dependent Upon Fast Foods And Mass Kitchens And Megavitamins For Our Basically Rotten Nourishment.

On The Other Hand, A Flaccid, Moping, Debauched Mollusc, Tired From Too Much Love And Loose-nerved From General World Conditions, Can Be A Shameful Thing Served Raw Upon The Shell.

I Think That When Two People Are Able To Weave That Kind Of Invisible Thread Of Understanding And Sympathy Between Each Other, That Delicate Web, They Should Not Risk Tearing It. It Is Too Rare, And It Lasts Too Short A Time At Best.

Old Age Is More Bearable If It Can Be Helped By An Early Acceptance Of Being Loved And Of Loving.