The irony of it all is the advice the old Parisian man gives you at the cafe by the park as you sip rose and eat macaroons is the same advice you’ll be giving to another young man a generation later but this time you’ll pay for the bill because you’re older with more money and more wisdom but the irony remains that the advice never makes sense until your old yourself and you’ve lived it and by then you’re the old man and you want to give the advice to one younger than you and so it goes, generation to generation, time to time, learning the lesson of how to love just in time to die.