Sometimes my heart feels a little lost and my sense of direction gets trapped inside a brown paper bag. That paper bag is on the shelf of an old gas station that will not accept credit or debit cards. The Doritos are stale, but the beer is ice cold. And Gunther works the counter where he supplements his meager paycheck with an ever steady stream of dry roasted peanuts. He gave up the daily jelly beans because he read somewhere that peanuts were better for his health. If you ask him, he won't be able to recall where he gathered that information, but he does remember that he read it in the waiting room at Doc Kimmel's office when he went in to see her about his sore toe. The jelly beans still call to him and he doesn't regret one bit that on Friday afternoons he celebrates life with a packet of the colorful confections. He always picks out the sour apples because he has a fierce sense of loyalty to classic flavors. Cherry, grape, orange...these are acceptable. Lemon pushes the envelope, and peach is just not done.