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Monday, October 24, 2011

Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 10/24

I was not surprised when Jack approached the floating bookshop wearing an Occupy Wall Street t-shirt. He is an odd duck and I doubt he works. He has regaled me with his theories, which I have real difficulty following, the past two years. He's been spending a few days a week in Zuccotti Park in downtown Manhattan. Before he left, I said: "Don't get arrested." I just read a piece at Yahoo News on the hated one-percent. Only 14% work on Wall Street. 31% are executives and managers in other industries. Nearly 16% are in the medical profession, which should surprise no one. Eight percent are lawyers - now there's a group that should be protested. I don't know where the remaining 33% are earning their money, and I don't care - that's their business. The one percent paid 37% of the taxes the year of the study, 2010.
I hate smoking, but I hate government's dishonest crusade against it even more. My dream is that every smoker quit at least for a month just to see the politicians pull their hair out at the lost tax revenue. I just read, also at Yahoo, where New York pays a half million dollars annually, to a firm in North Carolina that provides surveys on smoking, in order to figure out how to allocate the 40 million it spends on anti-smoking measures. Advocates argue that health costs fall with each reformed smoker. Detractors claim that smoking is a wash in terms of cost, as thousand of smokers die prematurely, never collecting Social Security or Medicare.
It looked like it was going to be a barren day at the floating bookshop until a woman speaking on a cell phone paused five minutes from closing time. My guess is she was speaking an African language. She purchased three hardcover thrillers. And, a few minutes later, a woman who lives a few floors above me donated about ten books, several of them in Russian. I run into her many mornings, as she goes on power walks every day, rain or shine. Lately, she has been wearing ankle weights. I'm embarrassed to say I don't know her name. I'll have to ask Arlynn, who knows everybody in the place.
Thanks, ladies.
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