THREE TO GET READY
And here we are, one week away, and this is the last blog for this year. (Yes, but MY year starts in early August, lime ettoufee.) I am going to dive in now, and will greet you again if I make it to the far side.
Is there anything I’ve neglected to say? Surely not.
Come and look for treasure. Remember there are other people in the world besides you, and try to make allowances. No shoving in line, no biting people who grab the last copy of The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood,
I will be there, of course, but hardly at my wittiest, so don’t expect much if you see me pass. I’m probably on my way to explain to someone why no one gets a discount for buying three eight-track tapes at once. Resist the temptation to pat me on the back; you’ll have too many chances in life to have sweaty palms.
We’re all glad to see you, whether you buy a paperback, a bushel of paperbacks, or that thousand dollar book signed by Martin Heidegger. If we remember you from last year, we’ll be glad to see you back; if you’ve never been here before, you’re as welcome as the veterans.
There are no guarantees that you won’t buy a book and find another copy cheaper somewhere else next week. We don’t promise you’ll find a book that will solve all your problems, meet the booklover who will be the love of your life, or get called a three-toed tree toad by the manager. We can’t even vow that you’ll have a good time: that’s up to you. We’ve worked all year to bring you a vast array of material donated by your neighbors. What you find in all of it will be as big a surprise to us as it is to you.
Bring joy. Bring cash. Take away summer memories of the Newberry in 2013. In August, if we all make it there, I’ll tell you what I saw and heard, and thank you for making it such a success. L’chaim!