I love that there can be an art to nearly everything. I love that Frank Lloyd Wright was shameless. I love that geometry is ancient. I love that the beauty of nature is undeniable. I love that the littlest things can make biggest differences, like cufflinks and salt and sometimes, 5 minutes. I love that the force that brings water to the faucets of New York City is gravity. I love the lowercase g of Electra and the 3 of Walbaum. I love that some things are inexplicable, in fact more things than you’d expect. I love that driving a car feels natural. I love that no expertise is needed to appreciate a well-made thing. I love that you can pretty much always assume there is a better way. I love that a computer is referred to as a machine. I love that music doesn’t have to mean anything to be beautiful. I love that anything can seem new. I love that there are theories about handwriting, the composition of matter, and horse racing. I love the knuckleball. This. I love the lightbulb joke about how many boring people. I love the moment at dusk when the F train comes out of the tunnel after Carroll St. and fills with golden sunset light and feels like a cathedral. I love the slow motion replay. I love the eggs at Greggs, and HAT and Hen. I love that Japanese architects deliberately inserted mistakes in their designs to appease the gods, who believe only they are perfect. I love that the heart is a muscle. I love the economy of punctuation. Ted Williams swinging the bat. I love Chinatown, the Radiator Building, the Queensboro Bridge, and the long days of summertime. I love that line about how memory is like a train. I love that anything is interesting if you look at it closely enough. I love that even a cheap hamburger is still pretty good.