Simple taste

Here's some thoughts on the value of simple taste.

I love old movies, westerns mostly, simple, straightforward, good guys win. I love old reruns of "Magnum, p.i." and "Andy Griffith." Something fun for an hour or so. I love to laugh.

I love Hemingway novels, particularly the early ones, love the way the words flow. I love to sit in the corner and hear Robin sing sad songs like an angel on Sunday nights in the Old City. She does it better than anybody I've ever heard.

I love that time of day when the sun heads toward its rest, love the hues and the flickers and the calm that follows. I love women with kind hearts and pretty eyes, calm temperament and a gentle smile.

I love the rhyme and rhythm of baseball, hot dogs at the park, standing up to stretch mid-way through the 7th. I love spring, too.

This morning I ate breakfast on the patio in the cool of the morning. I watched birds and butterflies dance and fly and skip across the yard. I thought about life and how intrinsically good it is. I thought about how glad I am to be standing here today.

And I thought about simple taste, and marveled at how much it's truly worth.