I got lucky today. On the hotel terrace, I sat next to a happy family. They spoke French, but I think they were from Switzerland. Be that as it may, the parents were in their early to mid-forties. Both of them in great shape, they had three sons from about ten to seventeen years of age. They talked. They listened to each other. They laughed. And they touched each other with passion. Like all happy families, they did not look around much. They were together, and they enjoyed each other’s company to the hilt. The rest of the world was none of their business. Yes, such families exist, but they are so rare that one takes solace in them. One raises them to a pedestal of sorts. Their very existence gives meaning to so much bullshit about the vaunted family. For it is nothing but bullshit if families like these are so very rare to make someone like me feel lucky to have sat next to them for close to an hour on a sunny summer afternoon.