when i headed up to boulder recently to meet a friend for lunch at the med , i realized it had been 14 years since my last meal there. how could it not have changed? in that time i've moved to boston for a decade & come back; implemented & discarded countless schemes for writerly success; fallen in & out of everlasting love at least thrice (to be clear, the director's the charm); traveled all over italy & seen chile, egypt, spain & the czech republic, among others, along the way; etc. surely this walnut street fixture has undergone a few transformations of its own-but aside from the expansion into a side room off the patio, damned if i can put my finger on them. it's still sprawling & vibrant, all wrought-iron & majolica accents & hues of sun-warmed sand & sea. it's still bustling with boulderites (read: beautiful people whose choice of dress suggests what my friend called outdoors asperger's ). and it's still, after all these years, pretty good-no better, no worse. at least that was m