Anticipation. . . .
We can never know about the days to come, but we think about them anyway. –Carly Simon Carly Simon had a hit song in the ‘70s that was picked up by a ketchup company and used in their television commercials. Thick, rich ketchup, brimming with tomatoey goodness, oozed from the bottle at a snail’s pace, hovering over a perfect char-grilled burger or pile of crispy, golden fries. Anticipation. . . . And meanwhile, back in the real world, we want to smack that bottle hard, shake it impatiently. We do not want to wait. Just like children in the weeks before Christmas, we want to know what’s inside, and we want to know now . We just aren’t very good at waiting, are we? And now, upstairs, our Sanctuary is cloaked in secrecy, gift-wrapped in black plastic and duct tape—and those darned signs, like the labels on those special gifts imploring, Do not open til December 25! CAUTION. HARD HAT AREA. Suddenly there is nothing we want more than a peek inside. (Admit it. We h...