Hemlock and a Straw, Please

My bookshelf is populated mainly by volumes I’ve read at least once.  Every now and again I realize that I’m missing some prized volume, either given away or lent permanently; conversely, on rare occasions I find something I’ve never managed to read that has been patiently waiting years for my attention.  Yesterday I discovered that have but have never read Phaedo.  Given the topic of discussion, I’ve made a mental note to return to this volume in the days before my own death, should I be so forewarned.

Lately I’ve been giving myself over to small pleasures.  [Is this behavior philosophical?  Depends upon your school.]  Today’s was the first cool morning of the season, and I relished taking the hot coffee tumbler in my cold hands.  Disgusted at long last by both AM and FM talk, I’ve tuned my car radio to a place it’s never before been, the Jazz station.  [Excepting this announcement I'm keeping that to myself; like sports and television, Jazz grows harder to like the more I hear others gush about it.  (Come think of it, the Internet probably killed TV for me.)]  Tomorrow I plant to visit the zoo for the first time in a long while.  (With any luck, I’ll catch the tortoises at feeding time; watching them sprint for lettuce never gets old.)

I’m leaning against buying the new Super Mario Bros. You can’t go back, and the same money buys me a copy of BattleTech: 25 Years.  If I’m going to spend money on something I won’t have time for, it should at least look impressive on my bookshelf.