I just learned that parrots can live to be 60-years-old. So now, no matter how bad my day is, I can take solace in the fact that somewhere there is a Macaw swearing at people in 1950’s slang, going on anti-communist screeds, and enthusiastically singing jingles extolling the health benefits of smooth tasting, charcoal roasted, unfiltered Lucky Strikes. You know what? The world IS magical.