Three hours and 45 ounces later....

Last night we accompanied Shelley's boss and his friends to dinner at Flemings. It gave me a better understanding of what some people mean when they say thay are "going out to dinner." Shelley and I go out regularly, sometimes to upscale restaurants, sometimes to sit down chains, sometimes for the good old fashioned American standard hamburger and fries. But I think the big difference is that we only order what we will eat and, once finished, we typically pack up and move to our next activity. I would suppose that we are pragmatic diners, we eat only because we are hungry.
Last night was a completely different paradigm. There was blatant gluttony. There was long drawn out conversations, typically about nothing, and there was show. All in all, the tab for 6 people ran around $700. We were brought food so often that I didn't even have enough time to make a dent in the course that I was working on. Champagne and wine were being bandied about as if we were kids picking up taffy at a fourth of July parade. We were ordering an extra lobster tail with our steak just because we could. And between all of the tasting and sampling there was the trite conversations about clothes, gossip, and massages.
The dinner was great and company alright, but although after three hours I was beginning to wander. The whole spectacle got me thinking. Evaluating grades of steak, texture of wine, and sharing Nordstrom's sales tips just doesn't seem like something that I would like to do regularly. It represents a world that I have no real interest to join or get caught up in. That kind of mentality might lead you to closet full of great shoes but the money it consumes is too great and the feelings acheived are too fleeting. I never want to live a life in which I equate happiness to what I physically own and in which I am always trying to consume more. I put a much higher premium on what I can learn, what I can share with others, and how strong my relationships are.

Well I better run, I think I knocked over the soapbox that I was standing on anyways.