We don't tend to care if a shooting star loses in a scuffle, but when someone who has worked, has toiled a hard road to get to that point loses, we shed bloody tears with them.
We are exposed, vulnerable when eating, all carefully built affectations lost to the dribble of sauce, the splatter of noodle and the wiping of stains from a once crisp and clean veneer.
There is something incredibly calming about the thought of rising five minutes before you go to sleep to sweep twigs from a pebble.
Just this afternoon I stared in amazement and some sense of horror as I watched the kids marathon through Katy Perry video clips.
I have never shot a man in Reno just to watch him die, though I did once watch my mum trip over the curb with arms full of shopping and nearly wet myself laughing.
Where normally there would be the sound of birds and the tide crashing against the beach there was silence, all hushed by the coming of a purer form of nature and the boy felt a tinge of excitement...
When i was younger it was the parents job to complain that the music was too loud, too aggressive, too everything.