Cellophane flowers of yellow and green

A fact of which I am extraordinarily proud: Kid Gleemonex, not yet two years old, can recognize the Beatles in any of their incarnations, from the half-lit 1962 Kirchherr photos to the “OMG I hate all three of the rest of you guys and your ASS FACES! I’m going to hide from you behind a ridiculous growth of hair, like a shrub I carry around with me 24/7!” phase near the end, and including Sgt. Pepper jackets, India, Sullivan, the whole bit. She’ll cheerfully volunteer that “they play guitar,” then point to Ringo and say “drums.”

It’s like I’ve said before: We don’t go to church, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have values.