In rare moments of clarity I get this feeling that no matter what people might want you to think, milk and soda pops will always taste better than Moët & Chandon or Chardonnay, that pancakes with raspberry jam are better than Crepes Suzette and salmon fillets, that lollipops will outlast cigars, and that the social consumption of alcohol can't compare to doing something you really like.
We invent it and we popularize it and we call it refined, and we do it to comfort us in the shadow of all that which we lose while we grow up.

Happy Birthday, Brother. Happy Birthday, Mari.