Mon, 23 Aug 1999
Dear Mister Wonderful,
Recently, I found myself in the Alumni Office and looking through old yearbooks, and I thought, Why do our reminiscing memories take on a pleasant, nostalgic feel? Especially when, if you ask most of the same people, they will reply that 5-10 years ago they were pretty stupid. Is ignorance really that blissful? Do we not remember how palpably uncomfortable we were as, say, freshmen? Would you really trade in your years of experience and wisdom for the naivete and wonder of earlier years? Is now really the best time of your life? If you could do it differently, what would you change? I can recall a particular trip to Norm's for "coffee" with two females that I'd like to try over. . . anyway.
I realize that I could have made all of the above numbered questions, but quite frankly, I didn't want to.
Also, what is the origin of the substance known as "cheez?"
Just Wondering (about my life, actually)
It's quite tempting to try to connect that coffee date with the origin of Cheez, but I'll leave it for another time. As well as another universe. That’s the trouble with counterfactuals - they always clash with this ti(m)e.
As to your first few queries, Mister Wonderful notes that ignorance is not blissful, but it does make a lot of money, which is almost as good. Memories feel pleasant because a) they've been working out while we weren't looking, b) time is the equivalent of dim lighting and a wig, and c) it's quite likely that we're more dumber now.
Mister Wonderful tries to hold onto his naivete, finding it useful in extraordinary situations. But he would not trade his wisdom for anything. It costs too much in the first place.
The best time of your life is when you realize there is no such thing as "best", "time", or "life".
If I could do it over again, he said in a Groucho voice, I'd take that redhead's offer.
Oh, and Cheez is actually made from Wookie milk.