Voila.

Oh, sure. There are a few minor and obvious details – like changing the mail delivery address and the utilities. Pretty straightforward modifications.

In this age of the internet those alterations just aren’t enough.

This morning, the phone rang with a question about THIS LAND, a Tulsa-based newspaper that was described to me as a local literary publication. The caller wanted to purchase a copy and was asking how to find the store.

It was clear she was looking at an internet map as she asked for details about the exact location.

When she hung up, I set aside a copy for her, as requested, and ventured onto the internet to find out whether the mapping services can be updated. Sure enough, I found that Google was displaying the old location. After logging in (thankfully the browser knew my password, for I certainly didn’t remember it), I was able to update several items associated with the store, include the hours of business – which were listed as from midnight to midnight.

Talk about a long day. I’m not quite ready yet for QuikTrip’s workday.

Now, I am wondering how many other websites dedicated to directions and information are still listing the old address.

Taking down the weathered wooden storefront sign and tacking it up to the new building just doesn’t cover it any longer.

I require a digital nail and hammer.

If anyone has doubted the power of Craigslist, I can assure you that people are reading those classified ads. In an attempt to clean out the storage space, I listed the lumber that I had used to assemble my makeshift bookshelves under the ‘Free’ heading.

The post listing button had barely been pressed before the telephone began ringing. The first caller gave me his name and promised to hop in his truck and head to Broken Arrow. After explaining to the next ten callers that the lumber was spoken for, I signed back into Craigslist and deleted the ad.

Still, the calls continued.

It took a few minutes for the ad to disappear, but even that wasn’t the last of it. I presume some folks wrote down the number to call later. By that time, my first contact had called back to say he was in town.

Half an hour later, I’m back in the store and the lumber is gone.

Now, if I can just have a bit of that success trying to sell the glass showcase, also in storage.

That bit of advertising might actually pay off in cash.

There are characters in the world and when the front door is open to the public, people of all sorts may find their way inside. I’m always pleased to greet arrivals, including an early Wednesday visitor.

He cruised in wearing baggy, knee-length shorts, a Hawaiian-y shirt, and sporting a scruffed Mohawk. After ambling partway down an aisle – long enough for me to get to the front of the store, he said some howdy-do as a greeting. And then scratched himself. It was no discreet thing.

It was a full-fledged right arm wraparound to the posterior, accommodating a digging sort of itch.

That completed, he wondered if, maybe, I was hiring.

After waiting an appropriate length of time to allow for the supposed consideration of his question, I had to respond that – regrettably – I was not.

He was kind enough to compliment the store’s appearance before moving on. I can appreciate his situation and admire his pursuit of a job.

But I was thankful he didn’t offer to shake hands.

Nothing fancy, but it was from the heart before it came out of the kitchen.

Mother’s Day 2012.

I’m fortunate to have been able to prepare a little something for my mother, my sister, and my wife – on the occasion of that busy dining-out holiday. We four constituted the entire crowd at McHuston’s on Sunday, which is just as well. Except for a small ‘to-go’ box, everything that was cooked was gone.

As a test run for the Irish Bistro, I discovered a couple of things right off the bat. The kitchen performs just fine – particularly that three-compartment sink where Fab and I washed up the dishes and pots afterwards. Wash, Rinse, Sanitize.

Another lesson: it is a rather long walk from the kitchen in the back to the tables in the front of the store. Not really important unless you’re trying to manage a tray of drinking glasses filled close enough to the top to be worrisome. No spills though, thank goodness.

The delivery is scheduled for later this week to install more of the kitchen equipment, which will bring us a little closer to being able to offer lunchtime fare. Nothing is finalized, but I’m still hoping to have a fairly diverse menu with offerings such as Irish Stew, Shepherd’s Pie, Potato Soup, and a sandwich or two as regular items. Maybe a soup o’ the day mixed in, and a couple of plated dishes as well. I’m working on an Irish slow roast somewhat similar to what was whipped up for Mom’s Day, and a couple of others that are rattling around in the idea phase.

I’m also pleased to report that the Rooster Days weekend worked out remarkably better than at our former location. Once the parade was over, it turned into a regular day of business, with considerable more traffic than the typical Saturday. Except for the first couple of years, Rooster Days marked a rare weekend off, since the parking lot spaces were sold by the landlord and store customers were effectively barricaded from entry.

Between Roosters and Moms it made for an eventful weekend.

Almost a relief to have Monday roll back around…

As appraiser Lark Mason noted, “You never know what is going to turn up.”

How true that is.

While not on the scale of the horn-cups in value, a rarely seen book is currently resting in the inventory at McHuston Booksellers.

The volume has had a bit of abuse in its lifetime, but copies of the 1932 first edition of “The Store” by author T. S. Stribling are amazingly hard to come by. It is true that among the millions of books published since Gutenberg perfected his printing machine, there are rarer titles. Some are so scarce that they have been completely lost to history, with not a single copy remaining.

The difference is, almost all of those books came and went without much discussion and a great many found their final resting spot in a public landfill.

Mr. Stribling won the Pulitzer Prize in 1933 for his work, and given that there are collectors who specialize in first edition copies of prize-winners, it makes this book a minor treasure.

For the person trying to put together a set of Pulitzer Winners who is missing this title, there are but a handful offered for sale anywhere.

Lo and Behold!

One of them is in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.

It is a bit fragile these days, but still represents a nice find.

Oh, and if you’re curious about the value… it is priced under a thousand – which is the going rate for another listed online, a book in better shape but not a true first edition.

You just never know what will turn up.

You didn’t think I’d place them out without a sample, did you?

Clicking on the image will enlarge the picture and you can see that the display is missing a single cookie. Proof of my will-power that I stopped at one.

The oven arrived this morning and I’m able to do a little cooking in the kitchen, so I fired it up and made a dozen, just to try my hand.

If someone was to invent a canned spray that had the scent of chocolate chip cookies, it might be a seller. Undoubtedly, it would be loaded with calories enough to pack on pounds just by breathing it in.

Things are still coming together.

A couple of more items added to the wall, in the other picture. I discovered several more boxes of books that still need to be reckoned with, and I’m still fighting with the computers. They don’t want to talk to each other.

It isn’t a drawback that affects the store operation, but there are some items on the older machines that I’d like to access without having to email them to myself (my current system of file-sharing). Maybe before the day is out…

I did discover that tragically-slow running machines can be greatly improved. My once-fast Dell desktop had such a case of the Slows yesterday that I thought someone had filled it with molasses. Figuring that there must be some programs running in the background to slow even the internet access, I checked the Startup file and removed a dozen or so programs that began automatically when the computer started.

Voila! When I rebooted the machine, it was back to its old zippy self.

I just need to find a way to recover my old zippy self…

(Chocolate chip cookies are likely not the answer.)

Today’s focus is getting the antique Sony Vaio and its younger but equally slow brother connected to the primitive store network. It isn’t so much a network as it is three computers strung together in a desperate attempt to preserve the data that exists separately on each machine. Programs and such.

I did transfer the customer database over to the laptop and have been using it since switching the Open sign on last week. The older machines give me a spot to save a backup copy. No ‘cloud’ storage here yet.

Baby steps.

Moving is a colossal pain, but it presents the opportunity to review the life-long collection of what-nots that are being dragged around over the course of a lifetime. As I tend to save rather than ditch them, I’ve assembled a pretty large collection of precious junk.

There have been times I have wondered whether it would be better to send some of these things off to the dustbin, but then I run across something that is worth a smile and a couple of memories. You can click on the image for a close up look at that Gladstein Plumbers infield. We were a mighty foursome. I’m the third from the left in my pre-beard days, back when caps did not signify receding hairlines.

That was the same year I got selected to play on a McAlester Boys Club all-star team for a game in Fort Smith, and during the opening warm-ups tripped on the raised infield turf and took a throw from the catcher on the forehead.

Knocked me out cold.

It also bumped me right out of the ballgame, thus ending my all-star career without so much as an at-bat.

I did take home a nice trophy, in the form of an egg-sized lump just below my hairline.

Needless to say, that was centuries ago, back when Charles Dickens was covering sports and the typewriter had yet to replace the quill and inkwell. In fact, I believe the sport of baseball had just been invented. Actually, looking at the photo credit, I noticed the name of Steve Lalli, whose younger brother Jim was a classmate of mine at St. John’s school in McAlester and quite the artist. I didn’t recall Steve being so much older that he would have a job at the newspaper, but perhaps he was a prodigy in the field of reporting. I was no prodigy in the infield of baseball, but I loved to play.

Maybe that’s why I have the clipping in a cardboard box. Who knows? It is, no doubt, the perfect time to rid myself of all the other papers and flotsam filling this particular carton.

But of course, I’ve closed the lid back up on it and taken it up to the loft for safe storage – for who knows what reason.

As to the store’s progress: Books are being sold, folks are wandering in everyday, and the kitchen equipment is still being assembled for the rollout of the bistro. Hopefully it will be in the next couple of weeks.

As for me, it’s back to the boxes and reconnecting the computers, feeling just a little older at having seen how long ago my sports prime actually was.

We’ve had some test runs along the way, but no way to accommodate those of you who might want cream or sweetener. Those are laid in and ready. The coffee is hot. The open sign is on.

Monday is here.

The brand of choice is still undecided. This morning the scent in the air is coming from the Rainforest Alliance certified select, which – to my taste – has the distinct flavor of coffee. As I’m readily admitting to anyone who might have a passing interest, the morning cup is not my – well, it’s not my cup of tea. Or coffee.

I can pass a blindfolded taste test over sodas, with a taste discerning enough to identify Sprite as compared to Mountain Dew, or Diet Coke from Dr Pepper (or even Pepsi). Hot coffee, hot cocoa, hot chocolate: not for me. Something about the burning sensation on the lips and tongue do me in. I have a cup of this Rainforest Select in front of me, but it is sufficiently cooled that I can drink it. As to its wake-up factor, aroma, robustness, bold-character flavor, and other java-related properties, I just haven’t had enough morning brew to render a qualified opinion.

The package is attractive, anyway.

Earlier I had intended to use Gevalia brand, a European coffee that supposedly is held in high regard. I was led to believe that it was rather exclusive but I saw a huge display of it just yesterday in Reasor’s. I don’t imagine that the coffee at McHuston Booksellers has to be one-of-a-kind, but I was hoping for something that would be a little different than the home cup. Maybe Gevalia is different enough, or even this Rainforest Select.

The taste is starting to grow on me.

The plan is still to offer a second, flavored coffee in the morning and I’m thinking the Rainforest Caramel is probably going to be the blend. Everyone who has tried it has returned a favorable opinion.

As a non-coffee drinker who liked it, that fact alone carries a lot of weight.

The pix this morning are of the kitchen and the coffeemaker. There are a lot of restaurants that don’t want you to see where the food is prepared, for one reason or another. In my days at Paddy’s Irish, I wasn’t ashamed of the kitchen, but it wasn’t a source of pride either. The equipment was older and mismatched. The space was confined and irregularly laid out due to the shape of the building. It passed the health department inspections.

The kitchen at McHuston Booksellers, on the other hand, is one that I am proud to show off, although it still isn’t quite ready. Still waiting for the installation of a freezer and refrigerator before the food service can be implemented. The office is a completely different story, as you can see in the image. I’m still working to get the last of the boxed books out on the shelves, and the office-related items put into some kind of order.

My son Dustin and I finished off one of the two storage units on Sunday, moving extra shelving units and items out of one to combine into a single spot and bringing back a last load to the store. It’s good to have that part taken care of.

The final image is taken from the peeking-through-the-front-window vantage point, which a lot of folks have been doing. I suppose an open sign on the front door is in order, to complement the lighted sign at the other end of the glass windows. It is a little tough to see through the slightly-tinted windows, and thus, the shielding-hand peek approach. It’s okay to open the door and come on in though.

We’ve got your cup o’ coffee ready to go.

There are still a few more boxes with books to be unpacked and shelved. The majority are in place – although not necessarily the correct one. From the front counter I can spot piles of books stashed in the General Vicinity section, to be moved to the Right Spot later.

About a third of the shelves are sporting tags that indicate what books are in that section. I hope to be forgiven for hand-lettering the signs, but the little printing machine ones have such an industrial appearance. Maybe the lettering will get finished this afternoon.

The images in today’s episode are to illustrate that I’ve actually gotten a couple of framed items on the walls. Three, actually. I’m hoping that they’ll also serve to dampen a little of the sound that continues to bounce around. There was a distinct echo in the building before I moved anything in, and the shelving itself did little to reduce the reverb effect. Adding the books has absorbed most of the reflected sound, but the front of the store can use a little extra baffling.

The Open sign is plugged in and flashing in the front window.

Not that anyone has missed the Grand Opening, or the ReOpening. That elusive date is the subject of most questions. When I was delivering boxes regularly though the day, the front door was locked during excursions to the storage unit. With most of the boxes inside the store, I’ve been spending more time among the shelves and have left the front door unlocked.

I’ve been pleased to see some regular customers (with a great thanks to the ladies at Hairs To Ya beauty salon next to the old location for letting people know where to find the new spot). Some books have been sold and traded. Some browsing has been accomplished. I hope you’ll come in soon to check it out!

As to the official opening, I figure it can’t be too Grand if I don’t even have the store name on the awning yet, or if the interior arranging is not yet finished. I was hoping to have every little thing in its place and then throw open the front door with a shout.

That hasn’t proven to be practical.

So, rather than keep folks out until such a time as I consider the place sufficiently completed, I’m going with the term I’ve heard used and invoking the Soft Opening privilege. That allows me to conduct some business while I’m still working out the details.

When the Tulsa Health Department inspectors came through this week for the final formal inspection of the on-premise kitchen facility, they agreed to the idea. When I have the rest of the supplies in, I’ll be able to fire up the coffee maker, and as soon as I get the commercial-grade refrigerator installed I can roll out the menu and serve up your soup.

For now, it’s back to the labeling and the wall work…

Although the door is open, it isn’t official yet. There are still a number of boxes to be unpacked and there are stacks of books scattered around the store waiting for a designated location in which to be stashed. There have been a number of folks wandering in through the door as well. Some are surprised to find a bookstore and say so. Others – perhaps visitors to town or newer residents – simply set themselves for browsing as though the store has been here for years.

There have been some sales, too.

Some of the buyers are customers from the old location who have been patiently awaiting the reopening. Others are first-timers that had no idea the store was located a mile and a half down the street for over five years. I have a feeling that the new location is going to be much more visible to the public.

You remember the three most important things regarding property: location, location, location.

Even the atmosphere is different. I realize this is a long stretch, but it’s true: when I prop the door open early in the morning on these wonderful spring days it reminds me of wandering Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The old structures alive with commerce and characters. I’ve been on Main Street going on six years now and had no idea that there was this kind of activity just a mile to the north.

The thing is – I think it is going to get better, too. There is a buzz currently that is likely partially due to the relative newness of the Main Street Tavern, a really classy restaurant that is two doors to the south of McHuston Booksellers. (You have to walk across Commercial Street, but still…). There is a new children’s clothing shop two doors to the north. Dooley’s Angus Inn has revamped their neon sign out front and Fiesta Mambo’s Mexican Restaurant is drawing capacity diners regularly.

Some folks are nervous about the possibility of changes downtown, but change is usually met with uncertainty and challenges. Sometimes, though, changes work out for the best. The BOK Center is an example of a project that met with opposition but has succeeded as proposed by its backers. BA’s downtown can do the same, I believe, since no plan has yet been etched in stone.

Meanwhile…

Still don’t know the date for the official re-opening of McHuston Booksellers, but – as of today, if the door is open and the lights are on – come on in!

The pictures don’t show the stacks of boxes at the back and the jumble of books still present on a number of shelves. You can click on any image for a larger view.

The days are long, and the hours are flying by as I get the out-of-sorts all sorted and filed in their proper place.

McHuston Booksellers is well on its way to getting back on the track in stylish new surroundings!