Choose your poison...

Consciousness can be painful. But a hangover is no picnic either. It's very rare that I have more than a glass of wine or two, but last night the conversation seemed to demand Malbec like a Hummer demands super unleaded. It should go without saying that I love our friends from overseas dearly, and that I truly admire their frank, and generally well-informed analysis of life in America. We need these perspectives. But, last night, as the corks were popping and the facts became sloppy, I was secretly reminded of something my brother once said: "Beware of the all-knowing European." In fact, I don't think it was the alcohol at all that's got my head tied in such knots this morning. I think it was getting stuck in the passionate crossfire of unfettered expressionism channeled through English as a second language.

("Garter Snake, Wine Bottle, and Wall Street Journal, 1984" by Deborah Norfleet)