Eating a peanut butter sandwich and a banana while delivering the mail can never compete with eating fresh rainbow trout cooked over a campfire.

It can’t compete.

There is no comparing the two experiences.

But, and I was telling Jenny this the other day, I get so hungry on the mail route that a peanut butter sandwich, wolfed down while I move between delivery points, tastes like ambrosia.

Not the ambrosia with the little marshmallows…..I’m talking about the kind of food that tastes like a small chunk of heaven….with a small “h”, of course.

I’m talking about deliciousness…..not little marshmallows.

It’s all about real need.

When you’re really hungry, the most mundane “meal” is delicious.

Still….a rainbow trout, cooked like this, would be memorably better than a peanut butter sandwich.

And…..what restaurant, no matter how many Michelin stars it got, could match this for a wonderful dining experience?

What imitation of majesty could come close to a sky full of stars and a cool mountain top breeze?

Funny the things we measure luxury by.

We’re funny creatures, for sure.

What do we know about luxury?

We’d be the ones complaing about manna.