Sometimes I feel that critics, epicures, and experts of all kinds must lead such depressing lives. It’s their innate characteristic to look for perfection; but I suppose they hardly find it on a regular basis. And that must be such a constant let-down.
I, on the other hand, could never be accused of having discerning taste in anything, and feel much the happier for it. I’ve had seconds–and thirds–of food that others have called ‘passable’, I’ve enjoyed watching movies that others have labelled ‘a waste of time and money’, I’ve gladly worn hand-me-downs when others told me I looked ‘so last century’. And loved doing it all.
Experts must be such pessimists.
Posted from WordPress for Android