Time’s a funny thing. On one hand, it seems so absolute, unalterable, a one-way arrow to which we are all irrevocably tied.

On the other hand, we all perceive it differently. For example, I know time as a pilot—tangible, measurable, available in limited, finite quantities. Here in Rome, the “Eternal City”, I find ample evidence of those who judged it differently. They considered themselves exempt from its constraints. Their best efforts at immortality, however, served only to produce tourist revenue and archeological delight.

I’ll be back next week to explore some aspect of flight—in the air, space or imagination—as a metaphor on life. This week, however, my honey and I are on vacation confirming the ancient wisdom that says, “life’s too short to drink bad coffee.”