Some of you may now be expecting a post, with this kind of title, that will end with several religious and philosophical book recommendations, including many in Latin.

This will be incredibly disappointing.

My friend lives in an interesting neighborhood and we have long watched, like Statler and Waldorf (without the audible heckling), from the third floor balcony of his apartment. The neighbors and their colorful lives flowing out from across the street make for interesting watching while sipping a beverage.

Like sand through the hourglass, these are the days of their lives.

For instance, one night we saw a fireball burst forth from one of the balconies, the occupant of the apartment evidently thinking it a good idea to put a barbecue on his second floor deck and send a wall of fire upward towards the wooden floor of the deck above him with the aid of fire-starting fluid. He didn’t seem too bothered; he kept grilling his burgers.

“That ain’t right.”

“Nope. It’s not legal, either.”

Despite all my hopes in the unspoken goading of my mind, the most excitement (beyond the dog and dope incident) has been two LDS fellows traipsing around. They don’t do much. They don’t even drink caffeine. They seem to either be buying furniture or helping a woman move, but either way, it’s not much.

Tonight I get an email, informing me of a fight! Big crowd! A lady parked her car in the middle of the street to join in! Car blocking the street and almost causes an accident!

Alas, I was not there.

“Why doesn’t anything exciting happen while you’re here?” my friend asked in the email.

Though disappointed at missing this great display of human tragedy, I felt I could not let the incident pass without trying to glean something of value from it. I replied back with my own email:

Truth 1: At the center of any fight is a woman.

I will tell you further truths as needed.

Stay tuned.