I'm reminded of the times I spent wandering Europe in the days of my youth. I happened to find myself in Izmir one bright spring afternoon when I made a fantastic discovery. The streets were crowded, cobbled, and freshly wet with the morning's rain, and as I strolled along in my best pin-striped seersucker I spied a weather-beaten, elderly gentleman perched atop a stool outside the local cafe. His skin was as sunburned as the bricks of the many shops and eateries that lined the busy streets.Hunched over coffee that had gone cold hours ago his hand was a blur as his crow-feather quill put ink to page. So taken was I by his enthusiasm I had to ask why he wrote so furiously, attacking the page with such exuberance. His face, with its skin the color of well-oiled leather, turned to me and he replied that the pages demanded he fill them. It was then that I noticed his journal was the most exquisite item of its kind I had ever beheld. It was clad with rich and supple leather and as I watched him caressing the pages with his pen I asked him where I might procure such a wondrous treasure.He looked up, surprised to find me still standing before him and he uttered one single word. Amazon, he said. Fantastic! I said to him, another journey to an exotic land in search of this remarkable prize. No! he exclaimed, amazon.com! And his face lit up with a mighty grin...
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