If my cat were ever able to profit from his crimes, I’m pretty sure he’d be buying an Elizabeth Paige Smith kitty couchette or maybe he’d spring for one of the kitty pods. If he really managed a big heist, I’m sure he’d have to have both.

Unfortunately, for both of us, I am my cat’s favorite victim and the toll he inflicts is mostly emotional. I’m not able to figure out what proceeds are to be made from killing a plant in cold chlorophyll, but I must assume that whatever his ill-gotten gains may be they are not suitable currency for purchasing big ticket items off the web. Of course, the explanation may be that he simply has yet to figure out how to sign for deliveries.

Today on Fresh Air, Terry Gross interviewed film maker Brett Morgen about his new documentary entitled Chicago 10 which documents the trials of the Chicago Eight in 1969. The title alludes to the fact that both of the defense attorneys were found to be in contempt of court.

It is well worth your time to listen to the interview, if only to hear the audio from the courtroom which Morgen discovered while researching the film. The filmmaker believes this is the first time the audio has been broadcast.

The audio clip from the courtroom is played after a clip from his film. Morgen chose to animate the scenes in the courtroom as there were no cameras allowed in during the trial. Initially I thought that a very strange choice had been made for the voice of Judge Julius Hoffman. Roy Scheider sounded like a cheesy cartoon villain, but it turns out (as the actual courtroom audio revealed) that is exactly what Judge Hoffman sounded like.

I have measured my life with coffee spoons. — T.S. Eliot

Today at Barnes & Noble I bought a bookmark with the above quote. To me, it implies that ones life can be measured by the small things. I certainly like to think so.

Speaking of coffee, I had a honey frappuccino at the Starbucks there. It was very very good, though I suggest you like honey and not be diabetic if you plan to consume one. Next time I think I will try the honey latte.

I was surprised by the number of people at the book store considering it was mid-afternoon on a weekday (I usually end up there in the evening). There were people everywhere. I walked around one corner to find about a dozen people in various states of repose, reading and dozing in the various chairs or slumped against the wall. At first I thought perhaps I had stumbled into a particularly boring book club, but it didn’t seem as if any of these people were interacting with one another. The coffee shop area was fairly busy as well with only one table free.

I thought that bookstores were going out of business because of competition with the Internet both as an alternate form of entertainment and another source of books (e.g. Amazon) so I was a little surprised to see just how busy things were. Perhaps that is still the case and large chains are simply in a better position to cut their losses than the small used bookshops which I favor.

Daniel sent me a link to this YouTube Video. If there were home improvement shows like that on American television I might actually buy a T.V.

Daniel described to me what he called old fashioned candy canes (not to be confused with the things that appear at Christmas time) and I said that I wasn’t sure I had ever had one. He told me that was at least in part due to the fact that a candy store local to him did not carry them, nor much of anything else that couldn’t be found typically in a grocery store.

I noted that it had been a very long time since I had seen a childhood favorite of mine in a store and described “candy sticks” to him. We came to the determination that we were likely talking about the same thing. (I attribute the previous confusion to my mistaken belief that lemon drops were somewhat soft.)

Now I want a clove candy stick and have no way of getting one short of ordering a box of them off the internet. I wonder how long it would take me to eat eighty of them …

The anti-microbial pencils by Ticonderoga are the answer to a prayer I didn’t even know I had — prior to finding them.

The barrel of these pencils are cedar, they have latex-free erasers (no smudges) and sport #2 graphite. The coating is what makes them anti-microbial and features some lovely substance I’d not heard of before called “Microban”. I can now absentmindedly chew on the pencil to my heart’s content without having to worry about germs. The flecks of Microban infused paint that I ingest in the process will probably kill me, but I figure I have at least a good twenty years before it gets to be a known carcinogen.

I have observed that certain people believe it makes them appear more professional or powerful if they have someone place phone calls on their behalf. This behavior, like its counterpart having an assistant connect and then transfer a call to them, could (and should) in most cases be taken for laziness or a lack of the knowledge essential to placing a phone call.

I was reminded of this when Party C described to me a series of phone calls which involved Party A asking Party C to place a call to Party B to pass on a bit of trivial information. Party A then called Party C again to learn Party B’s response, which in this case was, “Thank you.” A little while later, Party A once again contacted Party C to request a bit more trivial information be passed on to Party B. Party B once again said, “Thank you” and Party A was clearly disappointed when again the call back to Party C only yielded this polite acknowledgment.

I should perhaps note that Party A is one who fancies himself very important and to whom Party C is a mere peon. Party B, on the other hand, is actually someone of some note in this particular context. Also the fact that this was taking place in the middle of the night should not make the messages in question seem to be of any actual import, they were not.

A week ago, my plan for this week was to drive down to Virginia to see my grandmother. It was a sad realization that I had not managed to get there in a year, it had been far too long. Then over the weekend there was an unexpected death in the family and on Tuesday morning instead of waking up in the Shenandoah Valley, I was on a plane to Ohio for the funeral.

I made a slight tactical error in that I took the book The Commission: The Uncensored History of the 9/11 Investigation with me on the plane to read. At some point after take-off as I was reading I realized this may have been a mistake. Especially as I mulling over how the fine-tip pen in my hand was going to be the very last thing the eye of any would-be terrorist would see. I handle whatever anxieties I have about flying relatively well, but the subject-matter was not helping me keep my cool. The book is rather anxiety inducing on the ground as well. I haven’t ever been one to put a lot of trust in the competence of our government, but it seems that even my limited faith was both naive and misplaced.

For the flight home, I picked up some lighter fare in the form of a novel by Alexander McCall Smith. I quite enjoyed his trio of novellas featuring the character of Professor Dr. von Igelfeld. I have not read any of his “Ladies’ Detective Agency” series, in part because books that come in series are not my cup of tea. There is one notable exception to that, but it serves to prove the rule. 44 Scotland Street is quite different from the von Igelfeld stories, but that is at least in part a function of the fact it was originally published as a serial novel in The Scotsman newspaper.

I don’t usually read authors’ introductions to fiction, but I found McCall Smith’s description of the unique challenge facing him in creating a novel on a day-by-day basis to be interesting. I do think, however, that it would in general be better to write a novel in its entirety and then break it up for serial publication — not as challenging perhaps, but it would allow for tighter, more intricate plots. Still this book made for a quick read and was populated with an assortment of eccentric and engaging characters.

The bookstore in the airport offers a return policy. If one brings back the book with the receipt after it has been read, they will refund you 50% of the price of the book. I neglected to ask where the returned books go afterward, as all the books in the store appeared to be new. I suspect they have a deal with some used bookstores, which seems like a beneficial arrangement for all involved. They have stores in multiple airports, so even someone such as myself who isn’t likely to end up in Dayton again in the near future could take advantage of the program. I didn’t read the fine print so I do not know if there is an expiration date for the offer. This is all hypothetical, of course, as I almost never get rid of books.

A week or so ago I noticed two relatively minor changes to the two newspaper boxes housed in the basement of my apartment building. One had a sticker changing the weekday price from 50¢ to 75¢. The other had changed out the ad on the front to say that they were still a bargain at 50¢ each weekday. It was the ad in fact which drew my attention to the sticker on the other machine.

That paper wasn’t ever a bargain at 50¢. So I was rather amused to notice this morning as I worked on this paper’s crossword puzzle (the only section of the copy we receive at my workplace that I ever pay any real attention to), a small notice on the front page of today’s edition announcing that they are now raising their price to 75¢ on the weekdays. I noted upon returning to my apartment that the aforementioned ad has been removed. I suppose even they no longer consider themselves a bargain.