Paradise is paradise, I’m not complaining. Lunch in Naples, Florida Tuesday was a delight. You know: balmy breezes, swaying palm trees, gentle surf lapping at the soft, white-sand fringe of manicured gardens… The meal was vaguely Asian, with coconut this and pineapple that, good fresh seafood, and creative seaweed garnishes.

Two days later, some 5,000 miles away, same-same lunch in Maui was an equal pleasure. But look at my views: which is which?

Who designs paradise, anyway? And where do they get their plans? The little grass hut and tiki torches, seashell motif… I remember many years ago listening to a Finnish friend describe his fantasy. It contained the elements of these photos, exactly as generic, as soulless. Paradise packaged.

Still, I’m not complaining.