I was lucky enough to read quite a few really good articles today, most of which appeared in traditional print media. They dealt with medical technology, Java on embedded devices, business litigation, and a host of other topics. However, the one that really stuck out was in a blog: The story of Pizza Man and Flipper Boy.

I was watching CSPAN the other day (oh, the humanity!) while they were broadcasting some guy addressing some sort of convention. The guy was talking about how the income/wealth gap between the rich and the poor in America keeps getting wider. All of a sudden, he said something that really struck me: “The rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer because the rich keep doing whatever made them rich, and the poor keep doing whatever made them poor.”

Rather simplistic, but there’s probably some truth in that rather blunt statement.

My company reports increased earnings. Its stock price goes down. We release a revolutionary new product. The stock price goes down. We win a patent lawsuit. The stock price? Down. An analyst reaffirms his “overweight” rating (that’s good). Guess what happens to the stock price. Yeah, it goes down.

Stupid stock market…

I felt the warm night air on my face as I drove ahead. It was the first warm night of the season in Minnesota, and I felt obligated to enjoy it. Being Sunday night, few people were on the suburban road, so all I heard was the faint hum of the tires and the static of the wind.

I had just finished playing a couple hours of hockey, and I was feeling pretty good. My hair was still a bit damp, which made the tepid breeze feel that much better.

As I approached an intersection with a divided highway from the west, I noticed a swarm of squad cars blocking all of the northbound traffic. The lights were all flashing, and a mob of officers was in front of the cars. Intrigued, my gaze followed the cruiser headlights toward the point of interest as I turned south at the intersection.

For a split second, I saw a deer lying on its side in the middle of the road. In the next instant, I saw the muzzle flash from a rifle and the deer jolt from a bullet. The crack of the round reached my ears, and the scene flew out of view. I drove on.

In my almost 24 years, that was the first time I’d seen a deer get shot. I haven’t fired a gun in ages, and I’ve never gone hunting. I still like a good steak.

Every time I see a picture of it, I get a chill up my spine. It’s repulsive yet mesmerizing.

Ostrich leather is extremely durable. It is also extremely expensive. However, that durability plays second fiddle to its defining characteristic: a distinctive pattern of bumps.

These bumps are the former locations of quills. Immediately after slaughter, the bird is plucked of its quills. The resulting wounds swell and heal, producing the distinctive marks. If the plucking happens too long after death, the result is simply a bunch of holes.

Not all of the hide has these quill marks. Only the desirable “full quill” area is so adorned, with the rest of the body appearing much like cow leather.

I went on a quest to see something made from ostrich leather in real life. I thought that some shop somewhere in the Mall of America would carry an ostrich product; I was sadly mistaken. The high cost of full-quill ostrich leather seems to preclude its presence in such a plebeian shopping environment. It would seem that I would need to find a retailer carrying Prada to see the products in person, and I’m not about to do that.