Chris and I used to plan our weekends around university and local library used book sales. We were bound to. These sales were full of all sorts of obscure, random & dusty titles with disturbingly nibbled edges (bookworms?) and torn, tattered jackets (not that we judged them by their covers). Invariably, Chris would turn up the volumes. He'd insist on purchasing a much needed fourth copy of Lancelot because 1) it was hardback, 2) it was likely the missing link to completing his senior thesis, and 3) it was 25 cents. So, that's how two aspiring literati became bookkeepers -- on account of our value system: 50 books for $12.50. (A ledger-ly, our living buy the book also kept us in the, well, read.) We always left with several boxes of rare finds that Chris would lovingly strap into the back seat, carefully anchored to the child safety locks.
That was no accident. For a long time, books were like our pampered babies. Until we had real babies. And needed more room for their pampers. So, though all parents deny doing it, it became clear that we would have to 'play favorites,' boldly declare our love for one fiction over another, and turn over some old leaves. The first 25 bags of books took their exit in preparation for Mikaela's nursery. The second batch packed it up for the girls' playroom. And, in the ultimate treachery, the third set was shelved (or, in this [book] case, unshelved) to make way for M&K's own, ever-expanding kids' book collection. (Drat, folio-ed again!) Originally (sins I felt guilty for overbooking), I did convince Chris that we should try to sell the initial round of rejects to Half-Price Books in an effort to ease the farewell pinch. But, after the first couple of bags, the 'buy back' bookies caught on that our car's trunk was overflowing with more... Suddenly, we had no value in their eyes & our returns were pathetic. It just became too painful to be offered 15 cents for a book and see it up on their shelf two weeks later priced at $7.50.
Even worse is when we'd panic and seriously consider rebuying it! Sure, ridding ourselves of it had seemed like the copy right thing to do at the time... until we saw its new edition at Borders listed as a $19 novelty. Ya know how it is, when you realize you had a pretty good thing going with that open book? Finding yourself face-to-face with the lost love, it's so tempting to abandon all the progress you've made in the 12-Step Readers Anonymous Program. You start to sweat, experience those familiar withdrawal symptoms & can't remember why you two ever parted in the first place. Hey, you tell yourself, unlike with all those other used books you'd been considering, at least you know this one's history, who it spent time with before...
...and, next thing ya know, you're walking down the aisle to register that you're Reunited.
Thankfully, we finally brought that chapter of our lives to a close.
Though at first our losses were very difficult, we read between the lines and have faith that our castoffs are not really Books of the Dead. They've passed on to a better world,
one where they join all other virtuous books on golden, shiny shelves (with infinite shelf life
expectancy) and we can feel confident that we will see them again one
fine day. In fact, we often do -- every time we go to the library branch where
we donated them & recheck 'em out whenever we want. Verily, they
have returned from whence they came and, as a result, we have been
'saved' from paying monthly fees at Public Storage. Now we live on
borrowed time: what M&K can't afford to get with their Barnes &
Noble birthday gift cards, we simply loan out from the library. We're taking it two weeks at a time.
Wishing you a happy National Library Week and a fine(s) time! (Pardon me, that sentiment was overdue.)
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