Picking and choosing what kind of love is worth recognizing is an expensive choice. Is discrimination worth that price?

Why is love so expensive even when it exists everywhere?

I love an underdog. No, I don't necessarily mean the cartoon. I mean like David, as in Goliath, or the Bears, as in The Bad News Bears.

If most people were to take a moment to picture in their minds the average, not-for-profit, save-the-world girl, they... well, they probably wouldn't, because who wants to think about hemp, hairy legs, and Birkenstocks? But I'd rather eat a pair of Birkenstocks than put them on my feet, and I love, love, love my Christian Louboutins.

Love is not to be purchased, and affection has no price.

I'm proposing a change: love thy worker-bee. Celebrate the ones who toil without complaint, play on a team, construct the hive, produce the honey... executing the plan!