It dawned on me recently that I need more romance in my life. But the kind of romance I’m talking about has nothing to do with my marriage or my love life. I first read “The Rhythm of Education” by philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (let’s call him ANW) back in 1989. I instantly loved it. […]

“How about this one?”

“Ummm… licorice maybe? Kinda earthy. Not sure.”

Here I was, a few weeks out of sinus surgery, hoping to regain my sense of smell, which had gradually dwindled over the last few years until it was completely gone. With it, my sense of taste had left as well. At times, this was an advantage, as I no longer minded dealing with the garbage and the dog poo cleanup. Sometimes it just sucked, as the joy of eating good food has diminished, and some of my favorite smells – the moist autumn leaves under my bike tires, and the sweet aroma of the Russian Olive tree in the springtime – had become merely memories. And at times, it was awkward, since farting in my office while I’m alone didn’t really register with me, but seemed to have a different effect on my clients who might cock their heads a bit as they entered.