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The Redhead, Part 2 20 December 2006
 
I'm awestruck by the impact a lone flower can have on a woman. Somehow one flower is so much more powerful than many of them, a notion with which the redhead readily agrees. Of course, this is a one-way street. There is no number of flowers, whether one or 100, that can transform my face into the picture of blissful wonderment on display here. It's simply not in my genes, nor in the genes of any of my comrades.

For the vast majority of men, this sort of wonderment is reserved for the vivid color and contrast ratio of a 52-inch widescreen plasma TV. We will gaze at one of those babies with a motionless intensity that approaches apoplexy. I say this with all due shame: it's no triumph to be born with such congenital shallowness. But as a good friend of mine likes to say: it is what it is.

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