Crowds

When you are young, you love being in crowds. The hope is always you may find someone special; the bigger the crowd the greater the number of contacts, the greater the possibility of meeting that someone. When you are older, your hate being in crowds; they remind you of how rare specialness is; the crowd becomes an undifferentiated mob, a herd. It reminds you that specialness is rare; and, more poignantly, how little time you have spent with the few truly special people you have met along the way.