Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Author: admin (Page 77 of 220)

So many books. So little time.

It’s a project – but it is there to be tackled and there is no more putting it off. I’ve got to write all the books in the store.

Well, that isn’t EXACTLY true. The books have been written by their authors, of course. I’ve just got to list the titles to display them on the internet. Before the move to the Rose District, there were a couple of thousand titles listed for sale on the web, through the seller’s consortium Alibris.

During the confusion of re-shelving the inventory, a number of titles sold through the Alibris website. Ooops. Could not find them. Moving. Storage. Packing. Unpacking.

Can’t cancel a sale through Alibris, or they lower the seller’s rating. So. I had to buy copies from other dealers to send to my internet customers. Not always profitable. In fact, since our internet prices were generally set as the lowest in the country, it was usually impossible to find a replacement at a lower price.

After several internet-sales losses, I had the online inventory deleted. Bam! It’s gone.

There are some books that I’m fairly certain will never sell in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. Even in the new Rose District location.

So.

The listing has begun. While realizing it will take a good amount of time to upload a significant number of titles, I have to start somewhere. Consider the project begun with the first books photographed, described, and uploaded to the new website sub-sections. You can find them under the BOOKS listing on the Main Menu header.

And to think: back in high school I thought I would never have a use for that silly typing class.

There are only two books online now. A mere start. Plenty on the shelves though, so –

Come visit!

(Oh. And if you wondered about the Facebook-link quote: ‘Tol de rol lol lol, right fol lairy, Work’us,’ said Noah. It’s from Oliver Twist, spoken by Noah, the Undertaker’s apprentice to young Oliver. Makes no sense to me either, but I can identify with the Work’us part.)

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow, OK!

Snow news is good news. (Not.)

It isn’t any clearer now than before watching the forecast on the TV news. I’ve already scoured the internet looking for tips on what to expect in the morning. Talk about confusing.

As I read the thing, there is a 40% chance of sleet after 1am and a 90% chance of sleet before 7am. Really? What does that mean, exactly? The chances for sleet increase, I guess. But then, there’s this other snow part that talks about the percentage-possibility of snow during that same time frame.

Sounds a lot like hedging bets to me.

Maybe they aren’t too sure how it’s going to work itself out. And that is exactly what I need to know.

If it is a less than 50-50 chance of snow and sleet, maybe I better be bedding down instead of sitting in front of the tube trying to understand the forecast, so I can get back to the shop early to peel potatoes and carrots and get the lunch service ready – in case there is no snow. Isn’t that what a 50-50 chance means? Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t.

Snow.

Maybe the 50-50 means no. Nah. No snow. Or just a dusting. In which case, I need to be prepared.

On the other hand, if it is as dire as they seem to imply – what is the point of cooking up Irish stew and potato soup and hand-mashed potatoes when only those with monster-trucks, snowboards, and tennis-rackets strapped to their feet will be able to make it through?

And those folks likely won’t be looking for Irish Bistro carry-out. Probably a Reasor’s-run for Coors Light.

I can jump in behind the wheel, head to the bed, and find myself buried in tomorrow morning. Or I could make a pallet on the floor here at the shop and be ready, however it works out. (Not a comfortable sleep, I’ll admit.)

It reminds me of an afternoon I was working the microphone and had just delivered a weather forecast. Wrapped it up and took off the headphones. The phone rang.

Person on the phone: You just said there was a chance of rain on Saturday.

Me: Uh-huh.

Person, nervously: Well, I’m having an outdoor wedding on Saturday and I need to know if it is going to rain or not. And if it is, I need to know what time it is going to start and how long it is going to last.

Me: Uh. I think you’ve dialed the wrong number. The person in charge of the rain starting and stopping isn’t here.

So there it is. I’m supposedly older and wiser, and here I am hoping for the same sort of exact information that my caller demanded for her wedding all those years ago. She seemed silly to me at the time. And now, here I am looking for the same precise weather-tips. But, hey! Hasn’t technology advanced just a little since those old days?

Isn’t there a radar that can clue us in this techno-age?

Nah.

It’s just sit and wait. Watch and listen. Look out the back door. Look up at the sky. Wait a while. If it does start snowing, imagine if it is the kind that will keep on and on and will fill the streets and intersections beyond recognition. Sniff the air. Might it end after six or seven minutes?

It is beyond the mere mortals.

I can only try to imagine who will be out tomorrow in what might be a cold and snowy midday, wanting Irish stew on a Tuesday lunchtime in February.

Hmmmm. Come to think of it, the stew IS tasty stuff. Could bring a crowd.

Maybe I’d better break out the peeler and chef knife. Chop Chop!

Come visit! (If the meteorologists give the A-OK… like that would ever happen. WHEN the meteorologists give the A-OK, then…)

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

Tell her that I’m well…

It’s almost a shame to hear them apologize for being clean-cut, fun-loving musicians who enjoyed their time in front of an audience.

There are so many acts that are angry and that’s their stage presence.

I always wonder why they couldn’t have a little fun while everyone else was doing the same.

Just watched a program with Herman’s Hermits. (Even if you Google them, you won’t get it, because Google can’t take you back in time. You have to have been as old as me, and remember what it was like waaaaaay back then.)

The whole thing was still new and fun – music. Well, not exactly. Music has been around since humans pounded on a hollow tree (or a hollow head). But, music in the late 1960s was still in a state of evolution. Some would call it Revolution.

Peter Noone was the singer for Herman’s Hermits, an English band that crossed the Atlantic and found success – and had fun. You could tell watching them (and recalling through the old PBS video clips) that performing in front of an audience was as entertaining for the band as it was for those they faced.

In later years, particularly in the years my son discovered music, I noticed how angry the performers were. They seemed to be on a mission to deliver a serious MESSAGE. You know, like JEREMY SPOKE IN CLASS TODAY. The still-musical MTV pushed the video in 1993 and made a hit of it.

Granted.

Jeremy is worlds apart from Mrs Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter. But many bands released a variety of songs. Some of which were eligible for entertainment. Like – as in, Fun. A fun song, a fun video.

Mr Vedder once said (I recall it pretty well although through brief research, I can’t produce an exact quote) that he didn’t want anyone over thirty years old to listen to his music. Well. Mr Vedder will be 50 this year. Fifty. Things were a lot more fun the year Mr Vedder was born.

Singers smiled. Even the background vocalists. They enjoyed what they were doing. (Oh. Okay. There are those opera people. Those serious If-I-had-a-Hammer folk singers who seriously wanted to Hammer in the Morning all Over this Land. Man. Give it a folk-rest.)

Cause I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane while singing Do-Wa-Diddy-Diddy-Dum-Diddy-dee. (Can you frown during that one?)

It was just surprising, how many songs by Herman’s Hermits I could sing along with. Without hesitation. I never once bought a record album (primitive MP3 or streaming audio) by the group. Their songs were simply – popular.

Not like in a Justin Beiber sense. These fellows were clean-cut, foreign-born, fun-loving, clean-living, singers and guitar players. (And drummer.) When music went south, like Beiber in Florida, these fellows found another way to entertain themselves. (And others.)

Watching the PBS special (which in and of itself reveals my relative age), I was thrown back to a simpler era and a more naïve time. That’s probably the intent of PBS, to loosen up the spending for the whole fund-raising process. There was no talk of crack-cocaine, or meth-labs, serial killers, school shooters, political party wars, or wars in Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, or – back then – Vietnam.

I don’t want a time machine to head back to that simpler time.

It would be nice, though, if some of those simpler and honest values could push forward to this day and age.

Oh. Wait a minute.

I have history books here in the shop. I’ll just read up on how things used to be.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

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