I walked outside the apartment this afternoon and found a perfectly good three level bookshelf next to the garbage. I picked it up. Oof! Ikea compressed wood-like product (the Billy line, the sticker was still on the back) and it weighed a ton. I’m going to use it for my naturalist library, which is currently residing in a found CD rack, which is too narrow to have the book spines out.
So then I came out of the apartment a second time and walked up the block. A woman, obvious the grandmother, was minding two kids who were simply crawling all over the free paper dispensers. She said to me, "Would you like a Village Voice?" "Um, I already picked up my copy for the week," I said, wondering what the devel she was about. "Are you sure," she asked, "it would do a world of good for us if you opened that door." "Ah," I said, catching on the wink-wink, "would this have anything to do with today’s date"? I opened the door ready for anything, and a third scrunched-limbed lad went blahhhh from within. Uoooolala, I obligingly feigned terror and surprise. The kids roared with appreciation.