Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: booksellers (Page 72 of 92)

Boom. Pow. Lightning. Thunder. Darkness.

When those leaves blowing across the road are brown, we know fall has arrived. When they’re blowing green, we Okies know that indicates thunderstorms and damage. Obviously, I’m not sleeping like I ought to be.

The drive to the shop had downed trees in the headlights – a couple of them anyway, good-sized, but confined to front yards. There were large branches in the roadway, but fortunately they were in the other lane and I didn’t even have to swerve.

Travis Meyer has just reported that 30,000 folks are without power – the house I just drove away from among them. That’s why I rolled out of bed and donned the clothes. I had an idea I could buy some QT ice and save the inventory in the bistro kitchen.

No more than a couple of pitch-black-driving blocks later, I saw lights shining over several driveways. Emergency lights, I figured. Later, I decided that the power grid must split right down the building-subdivision and the houses to the east still had power.

Sure enough, Reasor’s, Kum-&-Go, and Sonic are operating with lights blazing. Still, along the course of my drive there were dramatically waving trees and more debris and blowing leaves. The green ones ripped from from the trees. On Main Street in the newly-named Rose District, at least one stop sign is blown down and a couple of orange traffic barrels are on their sides.

Power at the bookshop? We’re blazing with lights here. (Couldn’t have been reporting the latest KOTV news offerings without that power thing.)

Which brings us to a couple of present-day technological difficulties. When the bedroom fan choked and quit, it immediately grew warm, but I could switch on the Kindle and check out the latest from the TV weather folks. Wrong-a-roo. Remember that wireless modem thing? Powered by electricity?

It’s dead.

No connection. No problem, I thought. I’ll just read until the power comes back on. (I’m admitting here that I have that tech in hand. Gotta know what a bookseller is up against, you know…) Then, I realize that I can read until the power drains down and I won’t be able to charge it back. No electricity. Since its main function is to serve as my alarm clock, I can’t afford to let the battery run down and risk oversleeping. I am able to do that sort of thing, you know. No power, no lights, no alarm clock? No fun.

That’s when I decided I ought to check on the kitchen and the fridge and freezer situation.

As it turns out, all is well here. Now the KOTV folks are reporting 42,000 homes without power and some twisters down by Eufaula, others near Tenkiller. Circulation feature. Feature, like it’s a drive-in double-bill or something. McAlester, Hartshorne, Pittsburg County, my old stomping grounds – under the gun: “You need to take cover,” they are imploring, as the storm barrels through at more than 50 miles an hour.

I had lodged the store sign from the old location into a wedgie-location, thinking it would not move. It did. Smacked up against the van. New dents are not noticeable up against the old dents. Apparently, there were some strong winds downtown BA, even if the power stayed on.

I’m thankful that the keep-cold items are safe. I feel bad for the 42-thousand (at last update) without power, because I was plenty beyond-warm when I abandoned the darkness for a drive to the shop. The Air-Con is working fine in the bookstore, thank you very much.

It looks like a bed-down here is in the works as it’s already early morning. (Actually, no bed here – more like a balance-on-some-chairs thing. On the up-side… I can’t be late getting here in the morning.

Those of you with the smarty-phones will be able to keep in touch. High-tech. Those of us who have washed our phones in the past week are slaves to internet hotspots. I hope you have power and that alarm clock is working fine in the morning.

If not, you have the perfect excuse for sleeping in on Wednesday.

If you’re out and about, come visit!

McHuston

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

Another Tradition to be lost…

The price of progress? Expensive if you’ve enjoyed driving down to Bixby for fresh corn. I don’t know why, but that had become a Sunday afternoon, “Why don’t we…” sort of thing, at least once during the season when bushel baskets were full and lined the front of Conrad Farms.

My email hotline from the Tulsa World says the long-time farming operation is shutting down in October.

Not selling to someone else to grow and harvest. The land will go to developers, presumably so that Tulsa suburb can continue to grow. The space along Memorial is pretty much filled in, these days.

When I was grilling Reuben sandwiches at Paddy’s Irish Restaurant at 81st and Memorial, our place was about the only spot between Tulsa’s restaurant row and the Sonic and Taco Bueno at the intersection in Bixby proper. By the time I sold to my partner, construction was in full swing.

Progress, I suppose.

For folks in the Bixby area, I’m sure it will mean a lot more offerings – retail-wise – which will ultimately result in more tax dollars for the city and its services.

On the other hand, the loss of Conrad Farms highlights the latest long-standing tradition that will bite the cob… so to speak.

Good luck to the Conrad family in their future endeavors, and thanks for the farmer’s market atmosphere for so many years!

For corn-flavored cookbooks, come visit!

McHuston

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

Perseverance and Panning for Book-Gold.

Whap! Whap! Woohoo! (That’s me slapping myself on the back and giving a general cheer…) The result of proving to myself that an occasional reward is extended for tenacity and sticky-to-it-ness as a book detective.

It might have been five years ago when a customer asked if I could find a book for him. Sure can, I replied. I’ve had pretty good success searching out titles, largely due to the internet. Before the Web, finding an out of print book meant calling bookstores one after another. Visiting fleamarkets. Book fairs. Taking extended buying trips out of state.

Now, I can scour shops from coast to coast by simply visiting a couple of websites. Auctions like eBay have new offerings daily.

Still – the task I was given turned out to be a tough one. It wasn’t the first time I was asked to find a particular book based on the color and shape, but it was the only time I’ve taken up the challenge.

Over the years, the customer has stayed with me – now, he is a regular and respected client. We never meet, though, that he doesn’t ask me if I’ve had any success seeking out the book, the one printed in 1960 or ’61, the one with the white cover, the coil-spiral binding, and the smudgy black and white reference-guide pictures throughout the interior.

Me, repeating our routine of many years: Who’s the author on that?

Mr. Client: Don’t know.

Me, smiling through our stage-play: And what about a title?

Mr. Client: Don’t know it. It had a white cover and a spiral binding at the edge.

Me: The publisher?

Mr. Client: Probably privately published in Chicago.

Me: If I only had the author. Or the title. The publisher. I’m thinking it’s going to come to you in a dream one of these nights.

Mr. Client: Won’t happen. I was just a kid and didn’t pay enough attention.

And so, having run through our well-rehearsed exchange another time, I make a promise to keep me ears peeled, me nose to the stone, and me eyes to the ground in the continuation of the hunt.

There are plenty of tricks to searching the internet beyond the basics. I’ve tried them all. But I haven’t stopped there. I’ve written letters to dealers. Telephoned libraries. Emailed booksellers far and wide. Not many get past the first scoffing reaction to the idea of trying to find a particular book without knowing the title, author, or publisher.

“It’s coil bound,” I’ll tell them. “Probably privately published in Chicago.”

“Good luck,” most reply. “You’ll need it,” some add.

I received a dusting of good luck this week. Found the book.

After so many years, there’s no short way to describe the twisty, keyword-tweaking, obscure-location scouring methods that gave me a first hint of hope. Nah. Not hope. Just the slightest – possibility. The shortened version would go like this: I added a word or two in the search box, clicked on something and saw part of an online classified advertisement. It wouldn’t let me read the ad without first paying an auction-site membership fee, and if I had paid for each opportunity to look at a classified ad over the years it would have amounted to more than the price of the book.

There was this small, compressed-graphics image of a beat up looking old book with a coil binding. The part of the ad that wasn’t hidden from non-members indicated it was printed in the early 1960’s. I got out my magnifying glass and held it up to the computer screen.

There was an author’s name at the bottom of the cover in the picture.

Typed it in, and Bang! Three copies listed. One had an image of the red-ink cover. Not the white I’ve been looking for all these years, but I printed it out anyway. It was an image of the closest thing yet. Out of curiosity, I checked with the World Catalog to see how many copies existed around the world. Six. Including one at the Smithsonian, of all places. Six in libraries, three for sale. Nine in the world. Pretty much a needle-and-haystack search, if ever there was one.

At our next meeting, Mr. Client embarked on our Q-and-A routine about the book, no variation. Afterward, he added: How are we ever going to find it?

I slid the paper across the desk. Maybe you can look this one over, I said. Red cover though.

“That’s IT!”

And the hunt is ended, more than five years in.

Found the book after all, without the title and without the author’s name. Without knowing the publisher or release date. Only an incorrect description of the book’s appearance.

Feels good.

Find your own treasure (without a five year search!) Come visit!

McHuston

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

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