A Thing of Beauty Is a Joy. Forever.

My friend John has a gorgeous car: a brand-new silver Mustang. He wishes it were red, like the last one, but acknowledges that this one’s pretty, too. And yet … he likes to say he has no business driving “a car like that” and he should probably grow up. He laughs, but I still argue. That’s bullshit! I say. Of course you should drive whatever you want. And he says, Don’t you think I’m expected to get something a little more sensible? I shake my head. What could be more sensible at 86 than making yourself happy?