Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Books and Bistro (Page 71 of 92)

Different Kind of Big Mac.

Historically nice afternoon in the Rose District and here I am at the shop trying to restore order, sorting through a major collection, and finding a few treasures!

That always makes working on Sunday a little more satisfying.

Might have been the phase of the moon or the lower pollen count. Whatever reason, Friday and Saturday wound up being Receiving Dock days, with bags and boxes of books rolling in over the threshold.

Naturally, I don’t want to start the week out with stacks and stacks of volumes piled on every flat surface, so I’ve taken the price gun in hand and the book cart rumbling down the aisles loaded with interesting additions to the inventory. Trying to get the majority of them shelved before the weekend is over. Some interesting finds.

Case in point: First Edition, First Printing copy of David McCullough’s biography of John Adams, signed by the author.

The historian apparently favors signing with flowing-ink pens, which makes the autograph look almost suspiciously attractive. But, those old-school writing instruments also provide enough ink to partially bleed through the paper, authenticating the signature as the real deal.

If that wasn’t enough, the original owner of the book included a Tulsa Town Hall program from April, 2004 – when David McCullough spoke on “History as a Source of Strength” at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center. And signed a copy of his book for a reader in attendance.

The dust jacket is now safely protected in a mylar cover and ready to make a spectacular addition to someone’s personal library.

It’s times like this that I wish it possible for me to be a collector of books, instead of a seller!

Come visit!

McHuston

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

Mr. Postman, look and see…

Here you are at the post office, holding a letter to your relative in Cleveland. Times are tough. Crazy tough. So tough that you’ve got to write and let them know what is going on. Crazy stuff. You just need some stamps.

The clerk weighs the envelope and looks in your direction. Intense eyes. No smile.

How much, you ask.

Four.

Four dollars, you respond, while reaching for your cash.

Suddenly, the clerk laughs.

Four dollars! He repeats. What a joker! He turns to his coworker. Frank! We got a comedian here! Wants to know if four is four dollars! What a hoot! Four Dollars? Hoooo-weee!

Well, then – you ask. If not four dollars, then four what?

The clerk leans into your face and replies – without a trace of humor:

Four Billion Dollars.

Oh. Now there is a number.

How many stamps is that, you want to know.

Depends, he says. I’ve got some 200s but not enough. You’ll have to double up on the 100s. Too bad you don’t have a larger envelope, he decides.

So you buy the stamps and start licking. It’s 1923, and there aren’t any self-adhesive postage stamps. You’ll have to apply the tongue to each of the 25 stamps. You decide it was a good thing he had the 200-million stamps or you’d have had to cover up your return address on the back, where half of those postage stamps have been applied.

The War to End all Wars is over, and it’s another decade before the unrest bubbles up enough to plant the seeds of World War II. For the citizens of defeated Germany, times are tough. Today, they call it hyperinflation. Back then, there were a number of words that described the economy and the buying power of Germany cash.

None of them are printable here. Even in German. (A very linguistically literate audience haunts this blog…)

To send word across the Atlantic to the relatives in Amerika requires International Postage. The 25 stamps in 200 and 100 Million Mark (German dollar) increments amount to 4,000 million, or what we would call – with all those zeroes – four Billion.
Four Billion Dollars to send a letter.

You just wonder whether what was in the letter was worth it. The German word was millionen. Million. You can click on the image to see a view of the high-dollar stamps (actually high-Mark, their currency) that were required to simply mail a letter. If you click, you’ll also notice that – even without zipcodes or barcodes – the letter found its destination simply addressed to “Cleveland Amerika.” 1923 efficiency.

Here is the often repeated anecdote about post WWI Germany in the hyper-inflation years, of which 1923 – the year the letter in the images was written – might have been the absolute worst.

Workers who wanted to make the most of their money, demanded to be paid every few hours, so the cash could be spent before it became worthless. One employee loaded up all of his cash pay into a wheelbarrow and rushed off to the store to buy bread for his family.

He parked the wheelbarrow beside the front door and dashed inside to see if any loaves were left. When he came back out moments later, he looked at the spot where he had left the wheelbarrow. His heart sank.

The results of all his hard work were wasted, so much more than the just the morning’s pay was gone.

The thief had dumped all the money on the ground and made off with his wheelbarrow.

Another illustration of the times involved another wheelbarrow. This pile of money was being wheeled to the shoe store one Friday morning to buy a new pair of boots. If he had wheeled that same pile of money to the same store on Monday, he could have bought the entire STORE.

Always surprising, the things that show up in a book shop. Would have loved to have read the letter that it took 4-Billion Marks to mail. My guess is, by the time this piece of postage hit the mailbox, the German monetary system was just about to hit its reset button.

And the currency of record became bananas. (Kidding.)

As we all know, the new legal tender became Reuben sandwiches.

Come get one! (…without the sauerkraut. Hey, it’s Irish without inflation!)

McHuston

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

Leanin’ on a lamppost. (Irish Olympic event.)

It’s a little bit like a flashlight with no batteries. You can bonk someone on the head with it, but only in the bright of day. Actually, it is nothing like that at all. The drift is, the bulb is missing, but the lamppost has been restored to its valued place on the sidewalk.

Hoo-haw!

My neighbor JoAnne (Hollow Tree Gifts) dropped in this morning, happy and sad at the same time. The good-news bad-news concerned the sidewalk in front of her shop. There wasn’t one. That was then.

I moseyed (have you moseyed lately?) down to her end of the block this afternoon and the workers are smoothing the last of the cement. She should be able to open her front door to customers in the morning.

In the sidewalk planter in front of the book shop are two gentlemen who are installing the landscaping irrigation and drainage. That’s a good thing. I was worried at the beginning when mention was made of the merchants taking care of the plants in front of their own stores. No objections from me regarding the work involved – it’s only my memory and the responsibility of keeping thirsty plants alive.

I’d hate to be the one who killed off the roses in the Rose District.

You can see in the image my headless-lamppost and in the other a view from the front-door looking north. For now, you’ll have to imagine the green foliage and rosebushes.

The block from Commercial to Dallas is getting back to normal, at least during the daytime. The tall lamps have banished the darkness, but it will be a much brighter nighttime on Main when all of the lamps are lit.

Timetables are approximate, but there are hopes that everything will be ready to go by the time the Main Street Merchants’ annual Tee-off comes around, mid-month. That’s the Holiday Shopping Season jump-start for the downtown businesses in which many of the stores hold open-house type events, and in previous years the event has featured horse-drawn carriage rides, live music, and traveling minstrel shows. (Okay. I made that last part up.)

A couple of ladies dropped in during the lunch hour just to see what “all the Rose District talk is about.” I’m glad to know there is talk going on and that it is piquing the curiosity of area shoppers. I hope they’ll come back with things are a little more tidy and the orange barrels have moved to some other B.A. location.

There is still plenty of work going on inside the shop, as well. Just shelved a nearly-complete Hardy Boys collection, nicely kept hardback volumes.

Traipsing down to the library (have you traipsed lately?) as a vacation-reading maniac one summer, I had as a goal to read every one of the mysteries. The librarian had a sheet of paper imprinted with an image of a suitcase, and with each completed book she applied a colorful “travel” sticker to the page. We naive young bookworms were traveling around the world through the printed page. My suitcase runneth over with stickers and – all the while – I was saved the worry of nasty tropical mosquito-borne diseases and Montezuma’s Revenge.

Golly-gee, it was a simpler time back then, wasn’t it? But, dad-gummit, I fell for it and wound up reading a stack of books that summer. In retrospect, I should have been practicing my little-league baseball skills. (Then again, I probably had better later-life prospects as a librarian than a second-baseman.)

The roast beef is on the stove and aroma drifting ‘round the shop is reminding me of Grandma Mamie’s Sunday table and Grandma Sylvia’s Thanksgiving spread. Irish stew weather is fast approaching. The kitchen is calling and my oven mitts are at the ready.

Come visit!

McHuston

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

« Older posts Newer posts »