That whole contradiction between being and becoming. Poor Rick, stuck in Casablanca only to remind us that a sigh is not a kiss, nor is having to choose between them a fundamental thing in life. Time does not just go by, it whirrs past us like the winds off a Saharan bluff. The consistency of change smooths our character, polishes our personalities, settles our psyches. I, like the anti-hero in the gin-joint of life, want nothing more than to love with abandon on a Paris balcony or at the corner dive, in downtown Inglewood.