Here in sunny southern New Mexico, my spouse and I are enjoying the climate and scenery and the various mild leisure pursuits associated with a reasonably comfortable (for which we are thankful) retirement.

Unfortunately, I am laid somewhat low by a recurrence of sciatica. This gives me more time than usual for non-directed (aimless) thought. One example of such thought, which is thoroughly non-productive, is this: If the Red Riding Hood story is really about the hazards of puberty for the unwary girl, what is the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears about?

Another similar thought, though not original with me, is: "If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?"

See what I mean?

Another recent mental tack is, possibly, more useful.

In my recent Christmas essay, published in December, I alluded to matters of taste and tackiness.

Even though the mention of taste was only one small, out-of-the-way paragraph tucked into the midst of more serious matters, it was that which elicited most of the responses I received. I don't think that paragraph was my main point. (I hope not, and I hope I am not fooling myself.)

Tackiness and bad taste are very, very low in the hierarchy of imaginable offenses. After all, taste is merely a matter of -- well -- taste. Calculated, intentional, bad taste can be fun. It can be art, even!

Of the bad things we ourselves can do, or can model for our children, bad taste is outranked by violence, greed, gluttony, dishonesty, drunkenness, prejudice, hatred, cruelty, waste, discourtesy, disrespect and carelessness, to name only a few.

Most of us think/feel we possess good taste, but there are few of us who could prove it to everyone's satisfaction.

Among my relatives, I have a large family of cousins who are so educated and talented in the visual arts, literature and languages, who are so well-traveled and who are so urbane and sophisticated that I feel like an absolute rustic when I'm around them.

They are really good people, and they don't mean to make me feel that way, but my point is to illustrate just how relative are matters of taste. I regret having made, however inadvertently, taste seem central to a piece that was, I think, otherwise worthy of consideration.

Weeden Nichols is a retired soldier, amateur photographer, former athlete, competitive bridge player, social justice worker and Scottish heritage enthusiast.