I wonder sometimes if the true descriptor for humanity might be homo nostalgia, "nostalgic man." all it seems to take, at least for me, is a substantial downpour to lead me to the window to stare outside and think about the way things were. well, that and some ian hunter. it's not a bad thing and I don't think the nostalgia is necessarily a wish for things to return to the way they were. it's more as if we look out on the world as it is and the rain wipes it away, giving us a chance for the moment to reimagine it configured the way it once was, for both good and bad. there's a sense too of accomplishment, of pride in having lived so long and so interestingly that there is room for reflection. our nostalgia has a sharp edge to it, becomes a scalpel with which to slice open the past and extract--something. lessons? regrets? appreciation? yes. this is why we continue to celebrate bloomsday and why ulysses remains in print and on our shelves. yes.