I have arrived!

When I see myself in my mind's eye, it is something like this: I am sitting in a venerable coffee house, probably in San Francisco, but it could be in Paris, yes, let's decide it is in Paris. I am surrounded by people of similar ilk, intellectual beings, all done up in their academic togs, rather tweedy in an insouciant way, you know, old, butt-sprung skirts, ascots, berets. We are sipping our lattes and engaged in weighty, consequential arguments, like do animals really have rights and what are the moral and ethical ramifications of using them to determine if a new beauty product will cause skin ulcers or not. It all is reminiscent of the Beat generation. I resonate with Beatniks more than I do with Hippies. The Beatniks thought more and screwed less. Whatever, I am now a part of this argument, courtesy of Joel and the Critical Thinking guys, all mulling and pondering with such incredible intensity. Yes! Bring on Walt Whitman and the road less traveled. Let's all wallow in Walden and Paradise Lost. I lift my espresso in a toast to the examined life. What a hoot!