When the heart of the public is moved and shaken by it, so that with tears of contrition and pride they acclaim it as a masterpiece, it becomes that masterpiece which I did myself at first see. And when they denounce it as insipid and worthless, it becomes worthless. Also, lots of mechanics don't mind customers bringing their own oil. Also, it's really hard to find a good meal in Napa or Sonoma. We tried the other day and failed expensively.
Picnics are the way to go.
And with a picnic at Hop Kiln you get ducks, chickens, and a kitty. Most people apparently wake up at such climaxes, but the CTO of my dream factory decided long ago that death makes a dandy cover for the transition from REM to deep sleep. His arm craned over his head, the back of his hand resting on the street. Without moving he watched the plashes, slow and steady, off the wrist. A wave of confusion and shame overwhelmed him. . . .