The first step to appreciating the finer things is, without a doubt, the soft ‘c.’ As in ‘appreciate.’ Say it with me now. Ah-PREE-see-ate. Ah. Yes. Ah-PREEEEEE- sssssee-ate. Ah-ah-ah-preee—ohhhh, YES!!! Like that. Savor the ‘c’ on your palette, pupils: appreciate. Let it diffuse through the air, enhancing the room like the fine natural musk of a ripe pygmy dachshund in heat. Appreciate.

The second step to appreciating the finer things is posture. The best posture—which is absolutely requisite for appreciating the finest things—is supine, splayed on your back, with the fine thing dangling in the space between one’s nostrils and one’s quivering upper lip. One’s eyes, of course, must be shut. Peeping is permissible but only if belabored and accompanied by a slight, desirous straining noise from deep within the gut. Like so: unnghhhhhghhhghh. Very good.

It is also permissible, whilst in the supine position, to extend one’s tongue in the direction of the finer thing, that one may gingerly acquire a gustatory appreciation of said finer thing via the act of licking. But one must be very careful when licking finer things: it is a dainty maneuver to be performed only with the most hesitant and intricate lingual choreography. We should not wish to lick our things like courtesans, or, worse, the bourgeoisie. Those who work for a living or—it pains me to think of it— care for their own children simply are not capable of appreciation, pupils—as I’m sure you all know.

The last step to appreciating finer things—and the step most difficult for a novice appreciateur—is to ignore those finer things. One may ignore a finer thing in several ways. One could stare angrily at a white wall with one’s back to the thing, willing the finer thing resentfully out of existence, but knowing that, ultimately, one will never resist it; one might also reach with searching fingers for the finer thing, complaining that it is too miniscule to find; and one may also talk loudly in the general direction of the fine, fine thing, speaking only of concerns unrelated to the finer thing, even if you think it the finest of things, as if the f-f-f-f—the thing had never crossed one’s mind, or indeed ever existed at all. In fact, you must wish it had never existed! This appreciatory technique is especially effective if the finer thing happens to in fact overwhelm one with the sheer, unspeakable magnitude of its f-f-f-f- fiiiinenessss. Yessssss.

Finally, pupils, I should like to remind you that it would be uncouth to smile, laugh, or experience any “joy” or “pleasure” in the presence of a finer thing. Remember: happiness is for plebs.

— M. Taylor