Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Catoosa (Page 98 of 101)

Approaching the 300th Birthday…

Here’s how old this book is: When it was published in Paris, Benjamin Franklin was still alive and living in the American colonies. He was eight years old.

1714 was the year that King George I ascended the throne. He was the king of Great Britain and Ireland, although he was born in Hanover (now in Germany, but back then it was the Kingdom of Hanover – sort of like the Land of Oz). The King’s English was different in that time, too: the King spoke German.

In the American Colonies – there weren’t yet thirteen, as South Carolina had not been formally recognized as a royal colony (1729), and in 1714, tea was introduced for the first time. It was unsweetened, just so you know.

There were not a lot of novels being published in the colonies in 1714; in fact, it wasn’t until young B. Franklin grew up that the first truly successful newspaper was first printed – his Pennsylvania Gazette in 1728. It is true that a printing press was brought from Europe in the 1630s to be set up at Cambridge, Massachusetts, where a few books were published over the years, but most colonists were just struggling to survive and didn’t have a lot of free time to kick back with an adventure story.

In fact, through the 1600s it is fair to say the publishing was conducted primarily by Cambridge’s Samuel Green, William Bradford in Philadelphia, and Maryland’s William Nuthead. (Don’t you know he suffered for his surname?) Any book printed at the time would be expensive to acquire, and the contents were confined to religious reading and almanacs. People listed books in their wills to specify who should receive which volume.

The little book in the image (you can click the picture for a larger view) is about the size of a church hymnal, and from my failing high school French, the title page appears to indicate the contents are Moral Reflections with Notes on the New Testament. Light, after-dinner reading. For a book approaching its 300th birthday, it is in surprisingly good shape. In fact, its in great shape compared to a lot of used hardbacks that come into the shop.

As with many religious books of the 17th through the 19th centuries, the artwork consists of line engravings, since photography as we know it did not exist until the mid-1800s.

I can’t say what the book cost when it first rolled off the printing press in Paris, that day in 1714, but at the modest (relatively speaking) price it is tagged with here in the bookshop – adjusted for inflation – it would have cost a colonist about $23. Compare that with the $13 dollars that would have been spent for a brand new Brown Bess smooth bore musket.

Little surprise that – for the price – muskets easily outsold anything offered in a leather binding with paper pages in between!

Killer Queen.

Sunshine. Blue skies. Looking down the sidewalk, I see a number of my merchant neighbors with their doors propped open, enjoying the scant breeze. I don’t mind the cliché about the weather in Oklahoma, you know – the one that advises those who don’t like the weather here to just wait a minute. It’s refreshing – in every sense of the word – to have a rainy, dreary day that was topped off with a brief snowfall followed by such a bright day that it might be the meteorological opposite of its predecessor.

So nice outside, it compelled me to grab the spray bottle and wash the front door glass. So nice outside, it called for a new snapshot of the storefront. It’s a regular play-hooky day, but I better stay put for those book emergencies that pop up of an afternoon.

Since I was here instead of playing outdoors, I was able to field a question:

Nice lady: How does this work?

Me, holding a book: This front part opens, revealing the words inside, fresh and ready for reading.

I’m kidding. A lot of folks wonder about the mechanics of a used book store and things like trade credit. The nice lady had come across a tag inside one of the books that stated: Not available for Trade Credit.

Unlike some used book stores, most books here at the shop go out as a result of a cash or credit card transaction. I have a few trade accounts, although not too many. My selling rationale is pretty simple: If I pay cash for a book, I have to sell it for cash. The light company won’t take used books to settle the monthly utility bill. And there it is.

There is a great selection of the inventory available for those who bring in used books, and there are no policies here that are etched in stone.

Some feature selections – those books propped up on easels or displayed in the cases in the front of the shop – are also reserved for non-trade transactions. Some are new, unread copies. Others are harder-to-find, collectible, or specialty items. The set in the image is an example. The volumes are beautifully bound and kept, with ornate gilt embossing.

The set is edited by Ellery Queen, but of course they weren’t really. There wasn’t really an Ellery Queen. Two cousins from Brooklyn made up the character and then used the persona as a penname to write detective stories. Keep up here: the character Ellery Queen is a mystery writer and editor. In the stories. In real life, the Ellery Queen on the spine of the books was the pseudonym of Daniel Nathan and his cousin Manford Lepofsky.

You can see why they chose to write under a different name.

In this ten volume set, the fictional editor has selected classic detective stories from different eras and a range of authors and set them off in a fine-binding affair that certainly stands out in a bookcase.
Great stories. Fantastic price.

No mystery about that.

McHuston Booksellers & Irish Bistro: in the Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow, Oklahoma

All that, and a dime back from your quarter.

They were up near the cash register in a small wire rack. For fifteen cents, you got TV listings for the entire week, gossip about your favorite stars of the small screen, and a crossword puzzle to boot.

TV Guide.

In my earlier years, I was a TV Guide, of sorts. I did voicework for Prevue Guide Network, which later bought the magazine and became the TV Guide Channel. I did the same sort of things as the magazine – letting you know about the movies on HBO and the network primetime shows – although I didn’t offer a crossword and could rarely be picked up at the checkout stand. (There were days, though…)

When folks learn I’m interested in old books, many figure I’m interested in any sort of old thing. It’s true, I guess, to some extent. I don’t collect TV Guide magazines, but someone obviously did. Now they’re in the bookstore in plastic bags.

Many of them are dated, even for me. The cover in the image dates to New Year’s Day 1959 and while I recall the TV show Ozzie and Harriet, I don’t remember much about the program or the sons, except Ricky. About a decade after this magazine came out, he had a hit song with Garden Party, a sarcastic tune that he wrote in response to being asked to play all his older songs in concert. It was a Madison Square Garden party, and his final lines in the song described his conclusion that “you can’t please everyone…you’ve got to please yourself.”

I’ve been pleasing myself with this pile of magazines. I should be tending to the stacks of books that need to be shelved, but there are a lot of fond recollections on the covers of these vintage TV Guides. (Vintage is what we call items dating back more than a few years, so we don’t feel ancient describing them as ‘Old’…which they are.)

The cover subjects (for those of you who are not – old) were the sons of Ozzie and Harriet Nelson. As best I can recall, they were a typical family but had all sorts of run-ins and situations that America found entertaining. Perhaps a bit like Seinfeld, without the racy innuendo. The article in the magazine shoots that down though:

The average family next door does not consist of a couple of parents who have worked and starred together in show business for most of their adult lives, and a couple of boys each worth a conservative quarter of a million dollars on the current market.”

The inflation calculator says “What cost $250,000 in 1959 would cost $1,902,240.51 in 2011,” pointing out the validity of the writer’s statement. Most of us kids of that day weren’t worth a couple of Billion. Most kids of today aren’t either, even adjusted for inflation.

Those were simpler times. The Big12 was a simple Big7 back then (adjusted for inflation… Actually, OSU – known as Oklahoma A&M in that era – had not yet joined the conference that became the Big8 and later the Big12). Bud Wilkinson coached the Sooners to a 10-1 record, losing only to Texas. OU was rewarded with an Orange Bowl invitation, where they played on New Year’s Day and whipped Syracuse 21-7.

There weren’t as many bowl games in that era, but they all got attention. The Rose Bowl parade was an event in 1959, and kids gathered round in front of the television to watch the spectacle. An actor named Ronald Reagan did the on-camera commentary that year on ABC, describing the floats and marching bands as they passed by.

He later got a job in Washington DC and did some on-camera work there, too.

I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I recognize the artist behind the flying football players on the facing page and included in the image. The style is known to many who thumbed through magazine pages in the sixties and seventies. His name was Jack Davis and he did a lot of commercial artwork. I’m not sure I ever saw his drawings in TV Guide before today.

But I saw them all the time as a kid growing up reading Mad Magazine.

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