Favorites

I am generally loath to answer questions that start: “what is your favorite. . . .” There are so few elements of life and experience that can be ranked so simply.

For example, can one really determine whether Ella Fitzgerald scatting is better or worse than a Jimmy Page guitar solo? Is Monet objectively better or worse than Warhol? Does brunch at Commander’s Palace shine or dim when compared with dinner at K-Pauls? Is the feel of ermine sweeter than a child’s kiss? Does a rose smell better or worse than the aroma of cinnamon rolls baking?

When challenged to recall “favorite” experiences, I throw myself on the mercy of the court and ask if I can offer “top five” or “top ten” experiences within the topic at hand (lately, I’ve even asked for the caveat of experiences I remember!).

So, some top experiences by sense:

Taste: Mom’s “sticky buns”; Coney dogs and root beer at Monroe's Original Hot Dog; prime rib roasted on a spit; breakfast at 3 am with friends at the Pink Panther in Jonesville; a turkey sandwich on Friday after Thanksgiving; Silver Oak. . .

Smell: Apple pie cooking; coming rain, carnations, new cars, burnt tires and nitrous at the drag races. . .

Sight: a smile, a fawn, humming birds, Monet and Warhol, a shooting star, wild flowers, great architecture. . .

Touch: crisp cool sheets on the bed; a beloved’s hand; a congratulatory fist bump or high five; a hug; leather seats in a Mercedes . . .

Hearing: laughter; please and thank you; “good job”; Luciano Pavarotti, Bob Marley; that last school bell before summer; “you’ve made a difference” . . .

Please, sign in and let me know what I’ve missed.