Happy Hour

If ghosts ever belly up to a spirit world bar, I doubt they reminisce about the huge events of life. Sure, jackpot lottery tickets and Academy Award speeches are life's exclamation points. The winning touchdown, the heroic escape, the artful dodge -- they're loud and exciting. They break things up and flex the adrenals. But nobody wants to listen to a continuous drum solo, and too many fireworks obscure the chorus of stars. It's the day-to-day stuff that gives life it's base. We need to find our footing on solid ground in order to tilt at windmills, right?

I've been thinking a lot about the joy of ordinary things. Flowers from the Farmers Market next to a well-used teapot? Not exactly high art. But then again, if Van Gogh is up there nursing a scotch and talking about glory days, I'll bet what he remembers most are the irises, not the fact that he got famous for painting them...