Last week in New Orleans, James Carville and Mary Matalin hosted a day-long conference on "Taking the Poison Out of Partisanship", the latest in many attempts to get the partisan voices lowered in what passes for political discourse in this country.
But I wasn't there, I was traveling. And In one of my innumerable trips through airports this year, my thoughts were momentarily distracted from observations about junk-touching and the fading glories of first-class jet travel by the sight of a baby. I'm not a parent, so other peoples' children are not always a source of ineffable joy, but this was one of those baby's faces that could make Attila the Hun say "Awwww".
Walking down the jetway, I mused that one key to the charm of the young in our species, among others, was the role of the eyes. Apparently, we're born with the size of eyes we'll have throughout life; it's the rest of the body that grows around them. So the young have what appear to be outsize eyes with which to gaze lovingly at us, carrying the crucial age-old message: "Don't eat me".
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