Back Without a Vengeance

The last weekend in June this year was a perfect storm of activity for me as a volunteer: Friends of the Library book sale and a two-day sale (in my side yard) of African jewelry and art for the benefit of a school for AIDS orphans in Kenya.


Both, I am happy to report, were very successful; combined sales of books and raffle tickets, plus memberships, brought in a record $9,600 for the Friends and the yard sale (despite off-and-on rains and high winds) earned nearly $1,000 for the school. In practical terms, this means the Friends will be able to buy the rolling bookcases requested by the children's librarian to make her space more flexible for story time. The school, Crossroads Springs Institute in Hamisi, will be able to keep putting food on the table for the children. (Thirty bucks feeds a child for a month; there are just over 200 pupils enrolled---you do the math.)


Now I can get back to what I consider summering---Monday and Wednesday aquacise classes at the Community Pool, Wednesday morning yoga, fiddling around in the garden, roughing out activities for my 10-year-old granddaughter's coming visit, making cushion covers for the furnishings on my newly enlarged back porch, reading every chance I get.


Before I do, however, I have to confess that both the sales were a blast, and for different reasons.


Along with a dedicated group of volunteers I spent many mornings in advance of the Friends of the Library sale in the basement of the First Presbyterian Church sorting, weeding, and arranging what everyone agreed was a record number of donated books, magazines, and audio-visual materials. (If I never see another book by Danielle Steel, John Grisham, Dean Koonts, or Patricia Cornwell again, it will be too soon.) A fair number of books (not the aforementioned) came from me, enough to cram every inch of space in my little Jetta with the back seat down, including the front passenger seat and the floor well in front of it.


I have a couple of empty book shelves to show for my largesse and this year, for once, I did not buy enough to fill them all again: a few newer mysteries, a few novels, a couple of David McCullough histories in fine (unread) condition, and stuff I wouldn't ordinarily buy but enjoy browsing, like "The Darwin Awards, I and II." Some titles I bought out of pity; I had read most of the stories of Frank O'Connor in earlier collections, but the Collected Stories were in very good condition, and I couldn't stand the thought of the esteemed Irish writer's work winding up in the Dumpster.


As the Designated Weeder, though, I took a perverse pleasure in consigning certain titles and authors to the recycle bin. If you didn't read Arthur Hailey's "Hotel" in the '70s or Mary Roberts Rinehart in the '40s, you are not likely to seek them out today. Early John O'Hara novels will find takers; Frank G. Slaughter, uh-uh.


I have mixed emotions about the Friends of the Libary members' pre-sale on Thursday night. It is dominated by the used book dealers who, for a measly ten dollars, can gain admission to cherry-pick our best selections. Most arrive in teams who actually run when the doors open, fanning out to designated sections, one to hardcover fiction, one to art books, and so on. They amass heaps and piles of books in corners of the room, then go through them at their leisure to decide which ones they'll buy. This year, a new wrinkle: most had camera cell phones and were checking prices of given titles on the Net.


I suppose I shouldn't care who buys the books; we'll get the same ridiculously low price from all comers. The dealers, however, I view with a jaundiced eye because even though they will fork over hundreds of dollars for their boxes upon boxes of books, they will realize profit many times their cost by selling on the Internet.


And, many of them are rude. They elbow actual, local Friends of the Library out of the way, leave their discards dumped wherever. Some, we suspect, steal the occasional specially priced
antique book.


I take much more delight in the extra/ordinary folks whose eyes gleam with pleasure at the sight of so many books. The kids are a particular hoot, falling to their knees to examine the low shelves in the children's section, stacking up their choices, crowing at their finds, and sometimes having to be dragged away by their parents. Who says reading is a dying pastime?


For a mere twelve dollars browsers get all the books they can cram into a large brown grocery bag, and many fill several bags, delighted with their bargains and equally delighted that they're doing something for our town's excellent library. That's my kind of fun!


Which I had more of, on the next two days.

Thanks to me and my big mouth, which suggested to my fellow board members for Crossroads Springs that we should take advantage of the influx of tourists to our town during the annual arts and crafts show by selling African jewelry. The headquarters for the show, which is around the corner from my house, however, is strictly commercial, and the show's organizers don't care to have not-for-profit groups selling goods to compete with their wares. I had even suggested seeing whether we could join the Friends of the Library at the church by selling jewelry in the hallway outside the book sale, but it was too late to get permission from the board of elders. That established, how could I say No when someone suggested my side yard as a venue? We would get all that foot traffic of people walking from their cars to the crafts show, and there would be no cost involved.

Two great-hearted women, Carol and Deb, showed up at 7 a.m. Saturday with a tent, folding tables, display materials, and merchandise. They even brought their own coffee. We were already getting browsers before our 10 a.m. opening and made our first sale at 9:30. Over the two days we were visited by old friends, made a few new ones, planted a few seeds of interest about the school which will be to our benefit when we kick off a building fund campaign in September and conduct our annual Art for Africa sale and auction in November. Between customers I also got to know more about Carol and Deb.

We exchanged e-mail addresses with one gentleman, a professor at SUNY Brockport, who volunteered information about a student African drumming and dance company that might be willing to entertain at our events. How cool will THAT be?

My main contributions to all this fun were yard space, a convenient bathroom, string, duct tape, and a bottle of wine at day's end. The rewards were many times what I gave. But isn't that lavishness what summer is all about?