Woman comes in with an umbrella, shakes it out all over my books. I look at her incredulously, and take a towel and quietly try to wipe up the drops.
"Wow. I haven't see an umbrella in a long time," I said. "It rains all of 8 inches a year around here."
"The hotel had them..." she said.
**********
I can sell the Weird Oregon book all day long, but no one wants the Weird California book.
It's not because they aren't weird...
**********
As I thought, I have no willpower whatsoever in the face of selling candy in my store. I'm slowly but surely eating all the Turkish Taffy.
**********
Speaking of candy. My brother left a huge pile of Rex Stout 'Nero Wolfe' mysteries, and I've been ah, hem, wolfing them down. Short books, pithy. What's most dated about them isn't that everyone wears hats and calls each other "Mr." and "Mrs." and uses phone booths. What's most dated is the treatment of women, who usually fall into the "Madonna or the Whore" category. Such a "frail" species, who must be taken care of. It's kind of weird, like a species once existed on this earth that we men used to take care of who has disappeared.
***********
I was talking with a customer about George R.R. Martin's tendency to kill off major characters, and I said, "Yeah, and he doesn't just kill them in glorious battle -- he has to kill them or maim them in some humiliating way...."
Hey, wait a minute. I've read these books! They're better written than the Gor books, but...
**********
Linda's back is slowly getting better. She went to a chiropractor. I grew up in a doctor's family and 'chiropractor' was a dirty word. Never been to one, never will. (It was funny -- we were talking about it at Bend Memorial Clinic while dealing with Dad -- but we talked in whispers.)
But Linda wanted to go. He did a scan of her back and told her it was in her muscles and nerves, and would slowly get better on its own.
Color me officially impressed. (I'd been telling her the same thing --- being a doctor's son and all makes me such and expert and all.)
**********
Saw some N.C. Wyeth art on a site, and tried to order some of his illustrated books. (King Arthur wasn't available??!!) Anyway, I figure his artwork was at least as responsible for my life turn into fantasy as J.R.R. Tolkien was. (That and historical novels by Harold Lamb and Mary Renault.) In other words, I was primed. Tolkien and R.E. Howard were inevitable.
**********
I think I might be completely -- so far --- utterly uninterested in J.K. Rowlings adult novel.
"Wow. I haven't see an umbrella in a long time," I said. "It rains all of 8 inches a year around here."
"The hotel had them..." she said.
**********
I can sell the Weird Oregon book all day long, but no one wants the Weird California book.
It's not because they aren't weird...
**********
As I thought, I have no willpower whatsoever in the face of selling candy in my store. I'm slowly but surely eating all the Turkish Taffy.
**********
Speaking of candy. My brother left a huge pile of Rex Stout 'Nero Wolfe' mysteries, and I've been ah, hem, wolfing them down. Short books, pithy. What's most dated about them isn't that everyone wears hats and calls each other "Mr." and "Mrs." and uses phone booths. What's most dated is the treatment of women, who usually fall into the "Madonna or the Whore" category. Such a "frail" species, who must be taken care of. It's kind of weird, like a species once existed on this earth that we men used to take care of who has disappeared.
***********
I was talking with a customer about George R.R. Martin's tendency to kill off major characters, and I said, "Yeah, and he doesn't just kill them in glorious battle -- he has to kill them or maim them in some humiliating way...."
Hey, wait a minute. I've read these books! They're better written than the Gor books, but...
**********
Linda's back is slowly getting better. She went to a chiropractor. I grew up in a doctor's family and 'chiropractor' was a dirty word. Never been to one, never will. (It was funny -- we were talking about it at Bend Memorial Clinic while dealing with Dad -- but we talked in whispers.)
But Linda wanted to go. He did a scan of her back and told her it was in her muscles and nerves, and would slowly get better on its own.
Color me officially impressed. (I'd been telling her the same thing --- being a doctor's son and all makes me such and expert and all.)
**********
Saw some N.C. Wyeth art on a site, and tried to order some of his illustrated books. (King Arthur wasn't available??!!) Anyway, I figure his artwork was at least as responsible for my life turn into fantasy as J.R.R. Tolkien was. (That and historical novels by Harold Lamb and Mary Renault.) In other words, I was primed. Tolkien and R.E. Howard were inevitable.
**********
I think I might be completely -- so far --- utterly uninterested in J.K. Rowlings adult novel.