No day is ever lost when a man can go around in blue pants. I only wear blue pants and I have not lost a day yet.
I thank you for your visit and your contribution, cher Blue, to the present question. Now, as the probability of another Saturday impinges, more or less, on the contours of that query, I can say that no one could be surprised at your courage in venturing into it, and for us all I think steadfastness is as estimable in your comment as in your company. People might say, you know, “Oh, this is just the dreary conjecture of this page, its customary terrain,” and yet if Dickie Hakluyt is to be believed, this would not be the best simplification with which to navigate the place. If Naughty Wittgenstein’s perspective bears any accounting, a truer hypothesis might be that we are searching for a thoroughfare, rather than rutting one; while Hercule + Auguste will persist in their natural taste for progress, even here. Into these and other considerations of safe passage - of divine assent, if you will, to our odyssey’s adventure - you introduce the suggestion of a shifted emphasis, from the consolation of blue pants to their conserving feature, which brings awareness of value in “any” day. But how better would you care to frame, the treasure of relationships?