I have to tell you though that the whole book sale experience was the equivalent of tumbling down the rabbit hole into Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory. Yes, I know I have mixed my literary allusions, but that’s the kind of day it was. This sale tends to be the equivalent of Filene’s basement during the annual wedding gown grab, so the staff is constantly looking for ways to make it run smoothly and keep tempers on an even keel. The new idea was to hand out numbers at two o’clock for a five o’clock opening. Of course this means the die-hards now turn up at noon instead of two. We got there around one-fifteen and were happy to find only about half a dozen people waiting, among them a couple favorite old-timers like us. We passed the time pleasantly enough, grabbed our numbers (seven and eight), and headed off to Applebee’s for lunch/dinner at two where we lingered over spicy Cajun shrimp pasta.
Before we went though another new wrinkle appeared at the sale. It seems that the library decommissioned so much stuff that they had no room to display it. So creative lot that they are, the volunteers decided to rent a POD, box the books by category, and sell the boxes sight unseen for $15 each which made the average book price around 60 cents each. The way it worked was you chose your category, they issued you a box number and you went outside to the parking lot to collect it. Ah, nothing like a little gambling to add some spice to the book sale! Plenty of people availed themselves of the opportunity but, alas, we were not among them. I buy ex-libs so infrequently that even when they are fabulous my aesthetic sensibilities cringe like a Victorian dowager at the appalling sight of a young lady’s ankle. I know, I know, I’m something of a book snob, but now that I just celebrated my ickiest year birthday to date I don’t have to apologize for it.
Anyway, after the repast at Applebee’s and some in-car reading in the library parking lot we returned to the sale with about an hour to spare. Again, good people to talk to and an atmosphere of such tranquility you would think it was peopled by a tribe of Tibetan monks. Finally the doors opened and we headed to the collectibles area. Now here’s where it gets interesting. God love them, these volunteers are so nice and so hard working and sincere, but their pricing system is on par with the eternal question “what is the meaning of life?” Believe it or not – and I don’t believe it yet -- in this wonky little world in which I found myself a nine volume leather-bound set of Ridpath’s History of the World could be had for fifteen dollars. By contrast, a battered copy of a cheap children’s series book printed on high acid paper was $12! Needless to say, I chose the $15 option (see photo above). I only snapped four volumes though because the rest are in another box and the box is in the garage and it’s freezing out there, so you’ll just have to use your imagination to picture the whole set in all its glory.
The other thing I got that made me dance a little jig was two of the eight Sara Ware Bassett invention series books. Oh, how I love these and in first edition too. I have never had them before, but my “bookdar” went off like a factory whistle at high noon at the very sight of them.
All told, we spent an astounding seven hours from the moment we left our driveway to the moment we returned and yet somehow it ended up being a fun, satisfying day. Yes, the scanner people were there, but it was as though they’d been issued valium at the door. The world may have been wonky at the library, but I’d be happy to fall down that rabbit hole again any time.
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