I scavenged a book from a rubbish bin on the street today. It was Blue Highways: A Journy into America by William Least Heat-Moon. I don't know why it was there; maybe it was a reflection on America's declining mindshare, but I subscribe to the sterotypical librarian trait of believing that every book is sacred. Copyrighted 1983 (older than some of the people reading this), I am pleased to give the book a loving home and a new lease on life. I will read it eventually, but there are so many books vying for my attention.