Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: bookstores (Page 14 of 107)

The Passing of a Giant.

There are writers who crank out book after book for decades and achieve a mild notoriety. That wasn’t Harper Lee.

The author of To Kill a Mockingbird has died at age 89.

When her first novel arrived on the scene in 1960, it was printed in small quantities which shipped mainly to libraries and universities. She was an unknown author. To date, the book has sold more than 10 million copies and has become a staple of many high school English classes. One of our local schools is currently taking it up.

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They made a movie of the story, released a couple of years later and starring Gregory Peck. Although she befriended the movie’s cast and attended film-related events at its release, Harper Lee was never comfortable in her role as literary giant.

She had received the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1961.

After decades of waiting for her next book, readers began to accept that To Kill a Mockingbird might be her only completion. And, perhaps that was enough.

Then, mysteriously, another manuscript was discovered and published last year. Go Set a Watchman has been described as the original Mockingbird story, in a setting years later than her prize-winning work. Fair or not, Watchman has likely not ever been judged completely on its own merits. It paints a less than angelic picture of Atticus Finch, Lee’s righteous small-town lawyer who defends a falsely-accused black man in a predominantly white community.

Harper Lee’s youthful companion Truman Capote became a celebrity as a result of his books and he reveled in his television appearances – everything from game shows to late night talk programs. Lee made a few appearances at the 50th anniversary of Mockingbird’s publication, but for the most part kept to herself in her hometown of Monroeville, Alabama.

We didn’t get to know her, for the private life she kept. Beyond the literary world, there will likely be little mourning for the author of a single story, told twice.

But the world has lost one of its best storytellers in her passing.

The likes of Boo Radley and the hollow tree will never come ‘round again.

Did you ever just consider what went on?

How was your day? WAIT! Before you answer that… let me ask you a couple of questions. Okay? The day.

Maybe you didn’t have to be up by a certain time today and you got to sleep in… already a reason for a positive start. The alarm banged you awake?

At least, you woke up.

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Had the day off, did ya? Being a weekend and all. How can a day like that be anything but glorious? A day OFF! I get wobbly-kneed just thinking about such a thing. Oh. Wait a minute. You mean you had to work? Like we did?

Well.

We had jobs to go to, didn’t we?

Even if it is work that is less than pleasant, it pays a bill or two doesn’t it? Or – if it the work amounts to gotta-do-it work (called honey-do jobs in my generation), maybe you got something accomplished you can scratch off the list. If it wasn’t finished, maybe you made progress.

If it didn’t get done, was it because of a cough?

Well, then maybe at least you have your health. Where is this going? To this point – nowhere. We can get so caught up in the day to day that we sometimes forget to see where we are. You know, like all those float trips down the river. Paddle, paddle, paddle, and if you don’t look up, you don’t realize you’re making progress.

Sometimes it is good to rest the oars and just let the river carry you onward.

How was your day?

Did you speak to anyone? Did they respond? Did you smile once? Maybe more than once? Did you have a chance to grin and let it slip by? (That happens.) Did you receive a compliment and feel good about it? Did you compliment someone? Did you finish on time? Did you drive to work without crashing? Were the traffic lights in your favor, and if not, was there a good song on the radio that made the waiting bearable?

Did you drive on the expressway without having to coming to a complete halt? (Even after so many years of driving the BA, I did not realize this happens everyday. Those of you dealing with it have the gift of patience and get good-day bonus points….)

How was your day?

Did you see someone who means the world to you? Did you tell them “I love you?” Did you walk outside on a sunny February day in Oklahoma and remember that folks in other parts of the country have to don heavy overcoats, hats, gloves, and galoshes (remember THAT word?) just to step onto the front porch?

My alarm went off, and I don’t recall upon awakening being thankful for being alive. It’s hard for me to reflect on something just started. But the day is over and now I have the time.

I’m glad I woke up today. And, I’m happy that I had the chance to race around and do my work. It was a tough day, but the three most-taxing hours got completed with a sense of pride and accomplishment. People told me they enjoyed their lunches. People hoped I would tell Dustin what a good job he does preparing the meals. I did.

The car started. I drove to the house without incident. There was a good movie on. I watched it and enjoyed the ending. As the credits rolled up the screen, I thought back on the movie. And the day.

I had hugged her. And she hugged me back.

Sometimes simple things can make a day. I hope you can remember all the little things that go in to making a great day. They are so easily overlooked, like diamonds scattered along a sandy beach.

Remember someone today, and tell them how you feel if given the chance.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

McHuston

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

On shared books and times.

She eased her way over to where I was standing, wearing a mixed expression of curiosity and caution. I was talking at the time, the microphone in my hand. When I set it down, she leaned in for a closer look.

“That’s you?” She was shaking her head, slowly. “I thought you were a man.”

Thinking that same thing about myself, I was little distressed that her opinion seemed to be wavering. But I’d run into it before, when someone met in person the one they’d been listening to regularly on the radio. Reality rarely matches imagination. We were broadcasting records live from a furniture store, something we did back in the days of 45 RPM. (Google it.)

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Clearly, she thought I should have looked as tall as my voice might have hinted. That’s the thing about working in radio. You talk to people everyday, but there’s no face-time. Listeners come to know the voice in the box.

Waiting on folks who come in the shop provides me plenty of in-person conversations. The voice hasn’t changed much, but it doesn’t come out of a skinny teenager any longer. I have to admit, I enjoy chit-chat these days, however trivial. Over time, I’ve gotten to know some customers a little bit, jobs and family-life basics, and such.

“Do you worry?” one of our regulars asked the other day. “Do you worry when someone who usually comes in – doesn’t show up?”

I do.

It even comes up in the kitchen. Dustin might remark that so-and-so hasn’t been in for a while. I’ve brought up the same sort of thing. Once I remarked to a lunch guest that I hadn’t seen a couple who often sat near him. I had seen him speak to them on occasion.

“Oh,” he said. “They moved out of town. Couple of weeks ago.”

It’s crazy, but I was a little hurt that the couple hadn’t mentioned they were quitting Broken Arrow. Foolish on my part. I had come to expect to see them, knew their drinks and lunch favorites. But – honestly, and I realize it now – I was no more a part of their lives than the I-thought-you-were-a-man lady was a part of mine.

Sometimes, there is no explanation at all.

There was a couple who told me they had weekly business in Broken Arrow, and they enjoyed stopping in for lunch. They came in often enough that I could set the table and have their drinks poured – just before they sat down. Then, they never showed up. Ever. Again.

Maybe I offended them with chit-chat. Or maybe I turned in the order wrong. Maybe they moved to Texas, too. Whatever the case, I’ve not seen them in years now.

Sad truths are difficult.

Ordered a book for a regular guest and long-term customer. When it arrived, I propped it up on the front counter knowing he’d be in for it within the week.

Except he wasn’t.

Cleaning the countertop a couple of days ago, I moved it out of the way and, as I did, I thought about him and wondered that he had not yet been in to pick it up.

Today, after paying for a couple of books, a lady on the other side of the counter remarked that she was just in town for a funeral. Her companion mentioned a name, and that she had heard him remark more than once about the “Irish stew” and how much he enjoyed it. Of course, I immediately knew who it was she was talking about and it was as though I’d been hit in the chest with a mallet.

And now I know why the book is still sitting there, waiting for him to come by.

Rest in peace, Mr. D.

I’ll tackle the book for you and give you a first hand account of it later – but please be patient.

I’m becoming a slow reader.

McHuston

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

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