My son is in Paris on a school trip. This picture is from the website of where he is staying. It's an apartment-hotel, and he and three of his friends are in a one-bedroom suite. He called last night. London was a bust, he said, but they can already tell, after just an afternoon, that Paris will be much better. "I am looking at the Eiffel Tower from my window right now," he said, "and it sparkles." I could hear his friends whooping it up in the background, sounding somewhat as if they might be jumping on beds. I don't think they actually were, but the sound was of that sort of exhuberance. At this moment, he's loving his life! I'm glad for him, but I hope in the midst of that love he pauses to understand that he and his friends are pretty darn privileged.