I have to assume that there's an evolutionary advantage to having a brain which keenly remembers the bourbon-soaked magic carpet ride, but not its puke-on-the-shoes, please-God-help-me-find-my- car aftermath. The same holds true for romantic relationships. The dreamy, eye-gazing moment of transcendent intimacy is recalled with perfect clarity, while the sleepless nights on a bed with enough room between the two of you to park a car is but a dim memory. My theory for this mental preference is that the brain is hard-wired to push the organism toward pleasure and away from pain. It's actually designed to cherish the good times and discard the bad. I can't think of another explanation for why I'm always amused by the "drink responsibly" tag at the end of alcohol commercials. Sure. What other way to drink is there? It also explains why, whenever I call my lawyer, he starts the conversation with "please tell me you're not getting married again."
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