Something about newsprint... the smell, the texture... always intrigued me. I can trace it all back to when I was a kid, playing under the dining room table. Within this shelter of table legs coupled with the legs of adults, I created an entire world of made-up, half-baked adventures. Every so often, a page from the newspaper would descend to my level, working its way back and forth through the air before making that final, decisive slash toward the floor. "Hey," he noticed my interest and locked eyes, my mistake, "Can I interest you in a free newspaper?" "Well... Okay. What do I have to do?" ...