Oh internet, my internet

So someone asked me if I was done with my blog. Au contrair, I think about it all the time. But when I think about what I would write I get a little ranty in my head and then I never come here and write it down. Later, I think 'phew' thank goodness I never committed that train(wreck) of thought to the permanence of the internet. However, is that not what the internet was founded on? Seriously, before online commerce and 24 hour news, and family web sites, there was just ranting. And porn. There is not gonna be any porn here so that leaves me with good old fashioned cranky opinions.

Actually, I feel pretty good lately as we have had an amazing three straight days of sunshine. I made the most of one of them by raking all the leaves in the universe. The other days I made sure to sit out on the back deck for a little while to get some vitamin D.

We are back in the globe now though. The cloud ceiling is so low its like living at the bottom of a bowl of cold mashed potatoes. At least it hasn't snowed enough to stick yet. Up north of us I know there has been several inches already. It's the time of year when everyone pulls back into their houses, turtling until spring. At 4pm when full dark hits there is no reason to be out and nowhere to go. I've talked with others about how its an effort to go anywhere at night and life becomes a cycle of work, home, work. I can't let that happen this year.

On the Utica news front, every time I look at the paper I see something stupid. "Utica schools discover food in New Hartford warehouse". You really couldn't make this stuff up. The old director of operations retired and disappeared as per usual around here and some other bureaucrat randomly stumbled across an old cache of frozen foods belonging to the school district at a local cold storage warehouse. When the outgoing guy retired, he took all knowledge of this months old frozen food with him. How long has it been there? Who knows? "a while" They are serving it up to the kids! Don't worry though: "Muller said the food still was fresh because it was frozen." Yum, freezer burn. The school district will also be changing up the foods the kids eat more often because it "gives a flavor to the menu.” Yesssss, a flavor.

On the book front: sucky. Ebay sales are down because I am working through a stack of books that seem to have very little appeal. Amazon is not so great because I am unlisting more books than I am listing. Getting rid of the crap. Books bought this month: 2, both sold. Shockingly, out of the blue, I sold one of my special books off of my ridiculously poorly designed web site. The lady in Switzerland was so nice and not at put out at my broken links, she must have really wanted that book.

hurray for mail

Here is some not so recent mail.
I've been interested in early science fiction and am putting myself through a unfocused and not to thorough crash course in whatever I can get my hands on. My wish list at paperbackswap.com is ninety books long and I particularly enjoy turning the crap books I've culled out of my selling shelves into things I actually want to read. If you haven't heard about paperbackswap I highly recommend it.
The book in the cardboard wrapper is not for reading but was an impulse low bid that went through. Its a copy of Stanfield House by Lucy Ellen Guernsey in absolutely crap shape. The binding is split and multiple pages are loose plus I'd guess there is about zero interest in Ms. Guernseys, religious domestic fictions these days. I bought it for this: See that little sticker? It's a bookseller label from William J. C. Dulaney and Co. in Baltimore, MD. While not as artistically interesting as some others I've seen, it's still an interesting little bit of history

thinking about smut

I found the most awesome cookbook at the thrift yesterday. "Buen Provecho", a bilengual Mexican cookbook compliled by the Junior League of Mexico City. I picked it up for selling but once I started to look through it I got attached. It's an easy to read, spiral bound large format book with the recipes in English and Spanish side by side. I made the spicy shredded chicken for quesadillas already and they were magnificent. Luckily, we have a large population of people from the DR and the PR here so the stores have bigger than average Mexican foods sections. There are several recipes with huitlacoche, other wise known as corn smut. It looks just like it sounds, and it sounds like what it is. A can of black gooey fungal infection. I saw some in a field once and it was actually frightening. I do plan on making the "Delicious Cookies" though because I like delicious cookies.

Trying to buy the book itself was the usual exercise in Utica style frustration. The thrift sells its books with sticker prices on the hardcovers and by taking 90% off the cover price of the softcovers. This is a softcover book with no price printed on it which is not unusual for a book of its age. Usually, whoever is running the registrar can suggest a reasonable price but this time a girl I have never seen before refused. We looked at each other for a few minutes and then I (politely) asked if a manager or supervisor could put a price on it. Nope, no such person in the store. It's a shame, says she, because several people have tried to buy this book before me. Huh, that is a shame. Welp, I'd better put it back then. Not in a mood to be thwarted, I walked back in to the employee area, found someone with a pricing gun and had them put a sticker on it. This is the very same thrift that earlier was selling USPS boxes and mailing supplies that you get for free from the post office. And people were buying them! This seems extra wrong to me. Lots of immigrants and non english speakers shop this store heavily. I hate to think of them spending their money on something that should be free. Some of those boxes were marked up to four and five dollars. Poor people really get the shaft.

up down and all around

Oh man, I totally forgot to mention that I am the worlds newest John Cheaver fan and absolutely the last one to the party. The Wapshot Chronicle is my new favorite book and I just got the Wapshot Scandal. They are hilarious and make me cringe at the same time. Sometimes you read a book, and hear a piece of music and think, no one is ever going to be able to do this better. It makes you want to write as well as that but you know that it won't be possible and that every contemporary author/composer of any merit is trying to do it too and now you can see where they get it.

Also, I finished The Crystal World but I think I have to read it again because I was reading it for plot and I don't think that was the point. Also, I never knew there were so many synonyms for crystal.

keepin calm and carryin on

One thing about not working full time besides the no money part, is that I have been able to read a lot, and I had a stack of books ready to go. Since this is supposed to be a blog about books as well as Utica, here is a list of books I have been reading.

Tiger Tiger. Alfred Bester. A classic period sci fi. Supposedly a precursor of cyberpunk. A pre pre pre curser I would say. It's a real stretch. Space age Count of Monte Christo. Teleportation. I'm going to look for the Demolished Man.

The Auctioneer, Joan Samson. Didn't finish, too depressing. Rural farmers get fleeced out of their heirlooms by wicked big city huckster who sets up police state.

Dhalgren, Samuel Delany, long but worth it for the sheer weirdness. Way more guy on guy sex than I expected. Very 70's vibe and many levels of meaning and the ending loops to the beginning. I enjoyed it.

Altered Carbon, Richard Morgan. Humanity has colonized the star by digitizing humans and beaming them in to new bodies (sleeves) in other places. Cyberpunk noir. Surprisingly tepid. I liked the AI Hotels that just want people to stay in them the best, but the story went nowhere with that. I also find it hard to believe that people wouldn't want to live many lives but according to Morgan, people just get tired of getting old and give up after two or three go arounds. I probably won't read the next one in the series.

Holy Fire, Bruce Sterling. In the future, old people rule the world and live nearly forever due to advances to medical science that are only available to old people. Young people get the shaft. No shit.

Blindness, Jose Saramago- I had to put this one side when they started to shoot the blind internees in the camp. I need to be in a better frame of mind.

The Crystal World, J. B. Ballard, just started but am interested. The main character has not made it into the jungle yet.

scene from Utica

Here is my favorite personal story about Utica which I think about sometimes. We walk our dogs every day on city sidewalks past a light pole. One day as we are walking toward this particular pole, we notice a pair of pants wrapped around the base of the pole. There's lots of discarded clothes and shoes and purses on the streets and sidewalks of Utica, why I don't know. The purses are easy as they are clearly the discards of a robbery but the clothing and shoes I just don't get.

Anyway, as we get closer to the pole there is a smell. An awesome, monumental, physical impediment of a smell. We walk faster but it just gets stronger until its clear that the smell is coming from the pants. They are completely covered in shit. Human shit. Encrusting the pants all over. The pants which are wrapped around the pole. This is a part of the sidewalk where there are overgrown trees and bushes on the left of the sidewalk and the shitpants pole on the right so there is no way to give it a wide berth. We hustle the dogs past the shitpants and even they seem grossed out. The next day we forget about the shitpants wrapped around the pole and so are unpleasantly reminded at dog walk time. This goes on for a week. Sometimes we remember to walk a different block and sometimes sheer curiosity demands that we check in on the shitpants. And the pole. One day we walk up the block and we don't see the pole. The entire pole is gone like it was never there, and with it the shitpants. Sometimes I try to picture the scene of the shitpants pole removal. Were there five or six Utica City workers standing around while some poor new hire tonged the shitpants away from the pole, or did the whole pole come out with the shitpants attached. Is there a special procedure for this? Did they get hazard pay? Was the pole due to come out anyway and when they got there there was an unfortunate surprise?

Now that I have written this out it seems less amusing to me and more a sad allegory of Utica but there you go. The shitpants pole story.

up down and all around

Welp. So I got laid off from my job. It's taken me a while to feel like I could write about it but I think maybe it would help. We are actually not doing too badly. The boy amazed me by going out and finding a job within a relatively small amount of time. I am doing some temp work part time until I can find something else. This is something that I have been reading about happening to people all across the country but I really honestly never thought it would happen to me. Our lives were so settled and now everything is different.
The first week was really hard and even now if I think about it too hard I get emotional. One of the ladies at my temp job said that losing a long time job was like grieving and I thought EXACTLY! It really is although not as severe. I have actually lost a parent and this is no where near as bad.

I worked at this place for ten years. They purported to call themselves 'family' and I went to parties and events in my coworkers and bosses homes. Birthday parties, baby showers, holiday parties. I knew intimate details of their lives and they mine. One day I go into work like normal, expecting a normal day and by 1:30 I am out on the street with all my things in a cardboard box. Stunning. I am still stunned.
They said it wasn't performance based and I fully believe that because I performed. I went to foreign countries where I had no hope of understanding the language and fulfilled contractual obligations in spectacularly successful ways. I took all half formed ideas and projects and made them happen for multiple bosses every time and always to the good. I came in under budget every year and went with out a pay raise for five years. I had good relations with all my coworkers and everyone knew they could depend on me. I had all my vacation time maxed out because I never went on vacation. Hell, I even did other people's jobs. And I did it all in a no carrots, all sticks environment.

I'm not saying I didn't make mistakes. I can think if at least three in my ten years that were serious enough that I needed help in fixing them, but they didn't cost money to fix and no one was injured and no property was damaged. They just didn't happen right the first time. The problem with being really good at your job is that when you do make a mistake, it is like the end of the frigging world. At least that is my experience. My successes may have gained me a careless 'thanks' but my few mistakes earned me the thunderbolts of Zeus. Anything from being screamed at and humiliated to actual homework wherein I was supposed to write out reports detailing my errors and my plans for not being a screwup in the future. That is why I am not actually to upset not to work there anymore. The upsetting part is being used up and tossed out with no further thought like a wadded up disposable paper cup.

Here are the good things that happened almost immediately. Within two days my back stopped hurting, so far for good. I had some pretty severe chronic back pain and it's just gone now. I don't know if it's not having to go to a stressful environment every day or just not having to sit at the second hand desk and chair that I scrounged together at work. So that's nice.

I got a message out to my network of colleagues in my field all across the county and there was an overwhelming outpouring of support for me and outrage at what happened. A lot of people I had worked with over the years came out to say publicly that I am good a what I do and that I will be missed. At a time when I was feeling pretty low about myself and my ability, this was nice to hear.

I got a lot of support and love from the boy. His life has changed dramatically too but he was able to put this aside and care for me. I love him so much.

There's more but I have to get to work.

The more you know

Utica fun fact #1
The city's name, which was said to have been picked out of a hat, is
In honor of Utica, Tunisia, destroyed by the Arabs in 700 A.D.
BUT WHAT KIND OF HAT?

Utica fun fact #2

http://www.city-data.com/city/Utica-New-York.html

Utica fun fact #4
The arrival of a large number of Bosnian immigrants over the past
several years has stanched a population loss that had been steady for
more than three decades. Bosnian immigrants now constitute about 10% of
the total population of Utica

Utica Fun Fact #5
There are at least 12 reported UFO sightings for Utica, NY on the National UFO Reporting Center State Report Index For NY
http://www.nuforc.org/webreports/ndxlNY.html

Utica Fun Fact #6
The "Union Suit"- a type of red-colored long underwear jumpsuit with a
buttoned flap on the backside was invented in Utica.

Utica Fun Fact #7
Average Season Snowfall : 98.9"
2004-05 Final Snowfall Total: 93.4" 2005-06 Final Snowfall Total: 106.8"
This is probably the reasoning behind Fun Fact #6

Utica fun fact #8
F. W. Woolworth opened his first store in Utica in 1878, but the store failed within a year

Utica Fun Fact #9
The Utica Zoo is home to the world's largest watering can. The 2,000 pound
can is 15 feet 6 inches in height and 12 feet in diameter.

SPECIAL BONUS!!!
verification photo of giant watering can attached. Not my photo so if this is your work let me know and I will credit.


Utica Fun Fact #10
Because of the decline of industry and employment in the post-World War II era, Utica became known as "The City that God Forgot." In the 1980s and early 1990s, some of Utica's residents could be seen driving cars with bumper stickers that read "Last One Out of Utica, Please Turn Out The Lights,"

Life's too short to sell bad books

I've added a page to this blog with practical advice from one of the most respected booksellers on the ebay booksellers boards. It's for selfish reasons actually since I'm not kidding myself that anyone is actually reading this blog and I don't want the information to disappear the way things sometimes do on the internet, submerging soundlessly when no one is looking. Another place the hints can be found is here:
http://bibliomania.net/satnrosehints.html
I don't know anything about Satnrose except his name may or may not be Joel, he is an active seller of books with thousands of feedbacks, is the author of the mega thread "a book that looks like nothing" and is very generous with his advice and knowledge. Oh, and I seem to remember reading something about being a rare book buyer at the Strand. That just may be a fantasy as I think that would be the best job ever. Satnrose took a leave of absence from the board a while ago. I guess those political threads I never read get pretty stabby.

tore up from the floor up

Sup HUGE Garage Sale Utica LQQK!!!! TO MUCH TO LIST. You playin all coy advertising your wares on the craigslist. Say you gonna be there on Sunday selling books an seasonal items and when I roll up in my rizzle you aint no kinda there. WHAAAT? It coulda been ballin outta control boo, I brought the washingtons. I woulda been good to you. Why you gotta be like that baby? That shit is half steppin and my feelins is hurt now. That how you want ta represent HUGE Garage Sale Utica LQQK!!!! TO MUCH TO LIST? Wack.

peace out

Oh no I didn't!

Oh yes I did.

After the last post wherein I expressed my "inner fountain of fury and wrath" (thanks Carl Hiaasen) I thought a lot about what kind of bookseller I want to be. Turns out it isn't unskilled garbage picker. The local libraries feature hip hop classes and free internet porn, the one bookstore in the whole area is mostly a coffee shop. That's just the way it is. I can sit in my book room and spew out my frustrations over what isn't here or I can move on.
So, I canceled my expensive annual subscription service that allowed me look up isbns on a pda and get real time values. Yes, its super cool to put in a title about macrame or day trading and have that little machine tell you that you just scooped $10, $20 or even $60 dollars out of a pile of crap, but it doesn't increase my knowledge and connoisseurship. It just made me more anxious to find more books to sell as fast as possible, any books, where are they, omg I need more books. I have to justify the cost of this machine! Next garage sale! I only found $30 today! I am a failure! I hate everyone!
Meanwhile, the books I'm really interested in, the slow sellers, the long dollar: classic literature, Sci Fi, pulp, detective fiction, early Modern Library editions in perfect jackets, non fiction in interesting subjects like science, cooking, and history, pile up like driftwood in my book cave.
The fast dollar book dealer lifestyle is like day trading. A hot new book today could be worth pennies tomorrow. If you don't sell it immediately, you will shortly have a worthless book about fad diets or navel gazing self improvement taking up your limited storage space. Susan Powter anyone? No? Anyone?
I still feel the call of the fast dollar, but there are Iphone apps that do the same basic thing should I get the urge. In fact, I'm going to try one out at the thrift today. I'm still going to estate sales but not as urgently. AND I'm going to start cataloging the huge backlog of books I've already stashed for my website. It's like the Collyer brothers up in there only with fewer boobytraps and more Ulysses.
I won't have to sit up in my book cave to do it either thanks to my new friend MacBook. Hello MacBook, I'm making kissy noises at you. We're free to roam you and I. AND I can listen to pod casts and news feeds that give me news from outside this cultural dystopia. I'm as happy as a North Korean with a secret radio.

Who rules bartertown?

The past several weeks have been so devoid of any actual book sightings that I find myself worried that I may have found all the books in the Mohawk Valley. I did seven sales in quick succession last Saturday starting with an estate sale that had nothing on offer but disassembled bed frames and leather coats. On my way back into town I stopped at all the garage and block sales I could find, increasingly desperate to mitigate the expense in gas and time and exasperation with just one ohgod real book. I passed through no sidewalk having, ruthlessly bourgeois, white flight neighborhoods. There were tables with childrens clothing and plastic toys, homemade vhs tapes and last years big box store home decorating items. Many of these sales had actually spent money in the paper to advertise books, which to everyone but me means Bionocles and Dora the Explorer softcover propaganda. These are not really books. Not even when they have all the pages and don't smell like cheesy mac. Sorry to burst your bubble there, thirteenth grade educated suburban mom. And the presentation! Mwaaa! That's me putting my first two fingers and thumb together to my lips and making the kissy noise that designates French admiration. Cause I'm classy like that.
Classy like the aromatic pile of mildewy garbage you left out overnight in preparation for today's sale. A nice touch was telling me what what I don't buy goes straight to the salvation army. Because they enjoy having to rent multiple dumpsters to dispose of your toxic crap.
Hey! A box of readers digest condensed books from when you cleaned out grandma's basement? Just $2 each and dripping with earwigs?
IMA GET MY WALLET. It's in the car, which is partially parked on your lawn. Because you don't have any sidewalks, one of the hallmarks of civilization. This region ranked dead last in a recent Forbes magazine study of places to do business and have a career. We are one of the top ten worst places in the country to live and do business. We have a college attainment of only twenty percent, less than one percentage point of income growth, job growth and projected job growth. At least our civic leaders are concerned: "The first thing is, I've never bought a Forbes magazine in my life," says Utica Mayor David Roefaro. "I don't know many people who have." - Observer Dispatch. This man and all his colleagues own business in the area.
"I would say Forbes is one of the top-10 worst magazines in the country," Utica Community Revitalization Director Robert Sullivan said. "Who reads it anyway? When's the last time you were with a friend that just had to stop off and pick up Forbes?" -Utica Daily News. This man owns a local restaurant that is currently closed for fiscal malfeasance. Something about having to pay taxes and adopting the 'not gonna' business plan. Perhaps reading Forbes, which is one of the nation's premier business magazines and covers a "wide array of topics from the worlds of industry, finance, international business, marketing, law, taxes, science, technology, communications, investments and entrepreneurship" with an annual circulation of 900,000 could have helped with that.

I believe this region's dismal lack of higher education, mouth breathing intelligence levels, Appalachian style suspicion of the outsider and intense focus on children for vicarious thrills has a direct effect on the number and amount of desirable, clean, college reading level books. Anyone who enjoys activities not related to fetishising high school sports stars and personal watercraft is not doing it here. Even if they were, where would they be buying books? The last used bookstore anywhere near to Utica closed last fall and it mainly carried used paperback romances, one of the few literary forms generally deemed acceptable for adult consumption. New Hartford's Barnes and Noble is for childrens books, toys, the latest potboiler and for sitting hours in the cafe to read the free magazines. Books are for children and *whispering* the gays (FYI so are art and music). If you like those, you might be one or the other. The More You Know.

Actually writing out all of the above helps me pull the emergency vent valve so my spleen doesn't explode, and makes clear to me that I need to start finding books in other ways. Books I care to learn about, in defined niche areas. I'm already buying on the internet through various auction sites but now it's Serious Business. I'm not going to turn down a fast selling hypermodern or self help book that crosses my path, but I'm not going to waste my time trying to hunt them down anymore. Its time to move up.

Animals talk a lot but they just don't read

No book hunting last weekend. I just wasn't up for it. We halfheartedly went out to a porch sale at Spring Farm Cares in New Hartford, an Interspecies Communication, Animal Sanctuary, and Adoption Center. They are the World's First Center for the Teaching of Interspecies Communication. I know! They take in dogs, cats, horses, goats, birds, jackalopes and pushmepullyous. They are very active with neutering, spaying, and talkin' to the animals. Their website is a treasure house of awesome and I suggest a visit there immediately. However, they don't have any books of merit.
Here is my favorite story from the Meet our Horses, Ponies and Donkeys page.
"Gypsy only won one race because she would always slow down as the other horses got closer to her. We figured out later that she was stopping to kick them as she didn’t like other horses coming up behind her." It sounds like Gypsy had it all figured out. Sport of Kings my sweet patoot. You go Gypsy. Stick it to the man. And all those other horses.
I am considering signing up for a workshop in animal communication to ask my female greyhound Q: why you gotta always sneak up behind me and stick your cold nose up my skirt. $300 later - A: because your butts up there. Sweet vacuous Anna.

a sampler

Ok! so I went out of town on business, workin for the man every night and day. I managed to visit some bookstores as I was toiling and I took lots of photographs. But for now here is a quick summery of last weekends roundup:
Me and the boy set out to New Hartford. The first sale had no books, but lots of stuff like so:
I didn't buy it because it qualifies as NAB (not a book). But I wanted to. Remmington Rand would be an awesome name for a suave international secret agent. I did fall for a 1957 Static Master in an original box for .99 cents. It is for cleaning records. And mastering static.
The next sale advertised books in the paper. Technically, I guess there were some books.
See them? Just under the Book Corner sign?

I have added several palsied arrows to identify the stack of almost a full set of childrens encyclopedia and one worthless potboiler. Thanks for visiting the Book Corner!
The third sale I didn't take pictures of as I was getting tired of lameness. Typically, this is where I found the most interesting book, Ordnance and Gunnery, 1907. A West Point text with lots of cool pictures of cannons and mines and stuff.
Also, a book about ice cream.
The fourth sale was all the way up in Rome and was a house sale. There were books there and fairly interesting but only a few made the cut. I passed on a set of Yale Shakespeares because they were not pretty enough. I know that makes me shallow, but sometimes you gotta judge a book by its covers, yo. Also, I would have had to write a check. Management made its feelings clear about that:


Then a stop at North Star orchards to purchase a large sticky bun for to reward the boy for his boundless patience. Five books, one record groomer and a treat is the sum up.

Last week in Utica

The Mancuso brothers asbestos fraud saga finally comes to a conclusion in federal court when a judge handed out sentences like party favors. Party's over! Everyone out of the pool! There's asbestos in there!
From the local paper, emphasis mine.
"Paul Mancuso, 45, was sentenced to 6 ½ years in federal prison as the mastermind behind an asbestos removal operation that he was prohibited from being involved in.

His father, Lester Mancuso, 71, was given 3 years in prison.

Paul Mancuso's brother, Steven Mancuso, was sentenced to 3-2/3 years in prison, or 44 months, for using his legal expertise as an attorney to conceal his brother's involvement in the operations.

Additionally, Paul Mancuso was ordered to pay a $20,000 fine for violating federal regulations by allowing asbestos to be dumped in a field and washed down a drain at a Utica school, and once again he is prohibited from engaging in any asbestos abatement business.

This is the fourth time Paul Mancuso has faced serious federal charges related to asbestos abatement"
Apparently, the sentencing was colorful with crying Italian nanas, attempted running away by defendants, and metaphorical backstabbing. I have to say metaphorical because actual backstabbing is a possibility. Both Paul and Steven tried to roll over on the third brother, Ronald, who masterminded stealing nearly $1 million in quarters from parking meters in downtown Syracuse from 2000 to 2005. Which he laundered in local businesses all over town. Including a local laundromat owned by the previous Mayor's father. “Their brother Ronnie was the rat, and he’s out,” says Joette Mancuso, wife of Paul and owner of Joettes Gifts in New Hartford, which was busted by the state police for selling counterfit designer womens accessories in 2007. Thanksgiving is gonna be kind of awkward at Casa Mancuso this year.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, the Utica police make an arrest for last year's Thanksgiving murder. Turns out the murderers were right here in the city the whole time!

The recently renovated local showcase Stanley Performing Arts Center which had over $20 million dollars of federal funds poured into it is failing to support itself by presenting programs that people want to see. Executive director exit stage left and the search is on for a new one who can convince people to spend money to come downtown after dark. Give out free cans of mace, and a police escort. Problem solved.

The Utica police bought an old armored Brinks truck for $10 and have been working with the welding department of the local community college to vandal proof it and fit it out with surveillance cameras. Then it will be parked in high crime areas. "The goal is not necessarily to make an arrest, but to alert the suspects that police are onto them." Police Chief Williams says. You hear that crims? The popo are on to your shenanigans.

ok, I'm done. For now.

I compare and contrast part two

Here's what happened at the second estate sale last Friday. We roll up in our hoopty to a modest looking home in a nice neighborhood. There is a sold sign on the lawn of the house and the garage door is up, tables full of small items placed around the small space. I see a lot of boxes on a pallet in the back and they are chock full of books. They don't smell, aren't damp and clearly haven't been living in the garage for a long time so that's good. It's kinda dark in the garage though, and I don't see anyone who looks like they are working the sale. The boxes turn out to have some good stuff and I'm intently focused on sorting and choosing. The more I look the more I am interested the the people who owned them. There are cool vintage booklets about curling, a popular Utica sport. Lots of literature and history. Some ephemera and old yearbooks. Foreign language novels and dictionaries. Lots of Modern Library editions with nice jackets. A few flower and plant guides. A catalog of the works of Charles Burchfield, one of my favorite artists. While I'm occupied I am vaguely aware of people wandering in looking at the small stuff and wandering out but when I get like this its hard to shake my book trance. Finally, I have sorted out what I can afford and I'm thinking about my bargaining strategy. Ok, who's in charge here?

There's another guy who has some smalls in his hand and he's looking around for someone to give his money to as well. I knock on the door in the garage into the house. Nothing. I go around to the front and knock and ring the bell. The guy's wife calls from the car. "it doesn't start until noon". It's 10:45. Huh. I guess I should have read the ad a little more carefully. The guy makes a disgusted remark and leaves. Suddenly, a though occurs to me. What if some early bird forced the garage door open, took stuff and left? Then what if the sale organizers show up and find me, a stranger standing in the open, dark garage holding a box of books? Ohhhkay. Stash the box under a table and we move quickly to the car. More cars are pulling up as we drive away. At noon, I'm back! Garage door is shut and the front door is open. The first thing I do is bee line to my box which is still there. There's no crime scene tape anywhere and no one seems agitated so I decide it's just best not to ask.

At least now I get to go through the place and it's a really nice house. Every now and then, I go though a home and I feel totally comfortable in it, like I'm in sync with the place. The family room is large and airy and I spot the built in bookcases that held the books that the sale people threw in boxes in the garage. Books are for nerds, right? Shelves are for displaying your toys. Dang, didn't you know?
The decor is a little dated, but tasteful and all the furniture is of quality and well made. Classic and pleasing. You get the sense that a family of many interests was lived here. There's no overriding scheme like Kuntry Krafts or Pwecious Bears. No pink or lavender and no horrible dolls. The weird thing is I know I took a lot of pictures, but they aren't on my phone now. There's only two. This mid century dining room table and set of chairs made me hold my breath:

You don't see the likes of this too much around here. It's like some shy forest creature. Shhhhh! Don't scare it! I pulled the chair out so that you can see the angular seat. It was priced at $950.00. That probably won't even get you a footstool at the local cardboard and particle board furniture rip off stores. I hope it went to a good home.
Here's the other photo:

Someone was in the service during wartime. I'm not good at telling what branch and this photo is terrible. The main bedroom was filled with ladies hats, shoes and clothes from the 5o's through the 60's. Almost all the awesome hats had labels from bygone Utica shops. There were several fur hoods that I enjoyed trying on. There was a great fur purse. You know the kind with the snap shut mouth and no handle? A clutch I think they are called. I KNOW I took a picture of it, but it's gone. The ladies running the sale tells me that there is not much market on ebay for vintage clothing and accessories that don't have designer labels. I think all dealers are inherently pessimistic. It comes from constantly shifting through the chaff to find the one golden kernel of wheat. If I had a nickel for every copy of Profiles in Courage....

I compare and contrast, part one

First of all, here is my haul for the weekend:

It's an interesting mixed bag of cookbooks, Modern Library editions in jackets, Utica Curling Club ephemera and some early atlases.
House number one was Friday. It was one of the really nice places on the parkway. The kind that you drive by and wonder what kind of treasures are inside. None. That is the correct answer. Just lots and lots of dolls, tchotchke and kitsch horribleness. I guess kitch has its place but this house was stuffed in every room. How does this happen to an adult?

one of the many hundreds of dolls

These people were clearly wealthy and were part of Utica's social elite. They lived in one of the best areas of the city, conspicuously on the Parkway. I don't know anything about them but the evidence of their lives that they left behind. Was there art? A wine cellar? A photography studio? A library full of bookcases? Ask this guy:

Besides the hundreds of porcelain and glass figurines, there were also a lot of vintage dollhouses and toys. Not for kids. The kind older women collect to place carefully around the house next to bouquets of fake and dried flowers. Lots of general household goods as well. There were some other dealers there and they didn't seem to happy with the prices. I overheard one guy disgustedly remarking that he wouldn't be able to make a return on the resale. He had a few things in his hands though.
The house just went on and on. It was one of those places bigger on the inside that it appears from the outside because of the furnished basement and attic. Room after room of this stuff.

Hmm, where could the books be? I know there must be some around here somewhere. Oh, here they are, thrown in a pile in the basement.

They had been there a good long time too. Most were completely ruined by mildew. Actually, I think I didn't check well enough and may have to throw away a few of the ones I salvaged.
Overall, this was a lovely home and well maintained. Owned by wealthy people with completely different values than I hold dear. They had no time for books or reading. Every room was pink or lavender or covered with lace and filled with infantile baby shaped decorations. The older I get, the less patience I have for this. What makes an adult obsessively collect this kind of thing? The world is full of so much of value and I plan to spend the rest of my life searching it out, not regressing into a second childhood.
I know for a fact that a man had lived there but there was no evidence of such. Except for the man cave in the basement. Dark wood, an ugly comfortable looking recliner, old tv and several complete sets of untouched 1980's encyclopedias dustily stored on a bookcase. It was a Brady Bunch era retreat from the saccharine froth upstairs.
I grew up in a house that valued reading and education. Dad was an academic and Mom loved to read. Both had post graduate degrees and were interested in a variety of subjects. We traveled and we kids were encouraged to stretch our minds. They bought art, took us to the opera and cooked exotic foods. We were not wealthy. I was so lucky.

I have an interesting weekend

I did lots this weekend and even remembered to take pictures. Which I won't get around to posting until tomorrow.
In the meantime, here is a Utica update. There was a gangsta style shooting in the parking lot of the Wallgreens not far from my home at a popular commercial intersection at two in the afternoon on Sunday. Apparently there were witnesses, and the lucky sonofabitch they were shooting at got away. At least he was seen running away, and someone was observant enough to note that the car had out of state plates. The police have no leads on the shooters or the shootee and no real hope of catching anyone. There was an indifferent quote in the paper from the police chief that said: “It isn’t too uncommon to see these parking lots used as drug deals”. Oh well, that's alright then.
I browsed the online comments on the story and even went to the odious Topix Utica forum and amongst the natives there is a general feeling of outrage regarding this latest civic enhancer. Not that crime happened, heck no. Crime happens here all the time. It's where it happened and when. This is not an approved activity for South Utica. The misunderstanding seems to lie in the fact that there is an ever increasing population of what most locals here call 'downstaters'. Downstaters are not the flannel wearing, pipe smoking hipsters that you would expect. They are talking about the unfortunate poverty level NYC refugees who are looking for cheap housing, proximity to the many local prisons and easy access to social services, Utica's main export.

It's ok newcomers. You just don't know our ways. It's simple. Here is the Utica code of conduct for crime. If you are going to set a fire in a home or business, it should be one that you actually own. That way, you get the insurance money and can open a new and better business in a better location. If you are going to steal, it should be white collar embezzlement to pay off your Indian casino credit card debt, or goombah related moneymaking activities. And please, if you are going to be so gauche as to shoot or stab someone, please do it in the dead of night, preferably in Corn Hill, our designated ghetto area. Thank you.

The Dark Fields

The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn, 1st American Edition, 2002
I picked this up during my weekly troll of the thrift store. I almost never buy hypermodern fiction as I am so bad at selling it. I always miss the mark, that high point when a book reaches it zenith in profitability before thudding back to earth. I sold a copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking right before the movie Julie/Julia came out. My copy went for $12.00. During the frenzy I saw them going for up to $50.00, same edition, same condition. It's hitting a moving target and I always freeze up. Plus, I'm conflicted because I kinda want to keep it. It's so pretty with the blue silk bookmark and glossy jacket and I really want to read it but every time a book like this gets read it gets a little more worn. Still, a dark techno thriller is right up my alley. Ima try to sell it anyway and if it doesn't go then I keep it. I win!
Here's an editorial review from Amazon:
"Imagine a drug that makes your brain function with perfect efficiency, tapping into your most fundamental resources of intelligence and drive, releasing all the passive knowledge you'd ever accumulated. A drug that made you focused, charming, fast, even attractive. Eddie Spinola is on such a drug. It's called MDT-48, and it's Viagra for the brain-a designer drug that's redesigning his life. But while MDT is helping Eddie achieve the kind of success he's only dreamed about, it's also chipping away at his sanity-splitting headaches, spontaneous blackouts, violent outbursts. And now that he's hooked and his supply is running low, Eddie must venture into the drug's dark past to feed his habit. What he discovers proves that MDT, once a dream come true, has become his worst nightmare."
There's a movie coming out next spring too. Robert De Niro and Elizabeth Banks.

I am fooled twice

Getting into the car this morning I was momentarily stumped to see the contents of the glove compartment all over the front seat and floor. The little flip top compartment where we keep the cd cases was open too, as was the slide that covers the change and cup holder. Then it dawned on me that my car had been ransacked again. It's not like we haven't been robbed before, but it has been awhile. Long enough for me to get complacent. Last night while I was sleeping not thirty feet away, some thug was searching my car for valuables. Well ha on you douchbag because I don't have any. After I got through the 'what happened here' phase and the relief that they didn't make a disgusting body fluids mess, I got a little angry with myself because despite past plundering, I forgot to lock the car, thus inviting scum to help themselves. This is reasonable but infuriating. Fool me once, shame you. Fool me twice, you are a giant f*cking a**hole.

Ten years ago when we bought our house we had hoped that the neighborhood would improve and overall it has maintained. I wouldn't walk around the block after dark but I feel pretty safe during the day and we have two big dogs. Go two or three block in nearly any direction though and you are in the ghetto. Two murders and three armed bank robberies since last year. All unsolved and most 3 blocks from my home. The police never catch anyone. It has been suggested by the local newspaper that since all the robberies are similar, and no one has been caught, perhaps they are the same person? Hmmm, possibly, it is admitted. There was another armed bank robbery this morning with shots fired. This one was across town. All the banks near my house must be out of money.

I am thwarted in my goal

Honestly, I am never going to realize my goal of finding the next equivalent of Tammerlane in a box of old papers if you people don't stop selling abject crap at your yard and garage sales. Seriously, lets step it up out there. Alright, all joking but not really joking aside, if I'm going to drive 20 minutes to the literal middle of nowhere based on an ad that promises antiques, books, ephemera and other interesting items, I expect some of that to actually be present. Deerfield, I'm looking at you. What I don't want to see is your kids lemonade stand and a rat infested barn filled with used Tupperware, ripped up Simplicity dress patterns and a single pile of contemporary, chewed on kids board books. That's just cruel.

It took an immediate trip back to the Creekside diner for a short stack of pancakes to regain some enthusiasm. However the post pancake hunt was not roaringly sucessful either. I went to two garage sales in quick succession where the prices were pants on head retarded. At BOTH houses I heard mention that they were going to sell their items on Ebay after the sale. Why go to all the trouble to pay to advertise a sale, set it up, price everything, spend several days in your garage/driveway and then have to pack it all up again if you are not going to price things competitively? You are not an antique dealer/retailer and I'm not going to pay those prices if I'm standing in your carport. Frankly, with the amount of stuff both places had left over on a Sunday afternoon I don't think the strategy worked out.


The one place that did seem to get it was the tail end of an estate sale in its second weekend. I had been before but it was a hoarder's house and packed pretty tightly so in the hopes that new stuff had been churned up, I stopped by again. Everything was at least 50% off and deals were being made. Got a bag of books for $1.50. All interesting and I have hopes for a very old street guide to Venice.

I cast my nets

This weekend was lovely and called for some semi serious book hunting. Pictured is my haul. I did alright for my first time out this spring. There were a few advertised sales here and there around the region to choose from but none of the ads gave me that lucky feeling so I decide to take the shotgun approach and hit a neighborhood sale in a not wealthy, but middle/lower class area with tiny one story starter homes on small plots. Not old Utica. No sidewalks. Detached garages. Decade built circa 1970.
Very generally, the kinds of people in these neighborhoods are not readers. Reading is for children and old women so what is mostly on offer are scruffy kid's books, ratty paperback romances and James Patterson in hardback.
The big draw for most shoppers here is 'kids clothing'. Nearly every house had two or three folding tables set up with eight metric tons of clothing. Under the tables were boxes full of plastic toys and cheap junk. Every garage was packed to the ceiling with stuff which was not for sale. In fact, while browsing along line of plastic kitchen implements in tubs, I got to close to the open garage door of one gentleman who sternly ordered me away. Glancing inside I could see a wall of cardboard boxes marked 'kids clothes-storage'. Who knows what kind of Wallmart dragon's horde of treasures lie within! I shiver to think.

I come to these when I have limited time because I can hit ten to fifteen houses in quick succession. I am hoping that someone will decide to finally get rid of granddad's old worthless civil war reference books or train books or Aunt Mabel's crazy alternative medicine manuals. I'm just sayin, its happened before. However, the books on offer were mostly as described above and no antiquarian gold mines were struck.
I did hit one house that had a box full of recently printed text books and culled out the keepers. These are fairly advanced biology text books indicating that someone was doing some serious book learnin. I probably should have asked after more. Once I talked my way into a house of a nurse who was selling medical books and emerged with several hundred dollars worth of texts. It helps that I don't look like an ax murder. Also I impulse bought two vintage magazine ads which are both seductive and irresistible so clearly I had no choice. OH! and the book on knitting your own farmyard. Not just the animals, not just the farmer, but the houses and landscape too. That one is going to be hard to part with even though I have no intention of knitting, not ever.

In May, as the weather creeps up to above 60 degrees and it edges past likelihood of snow,(although it still might), we enter my favorite season. Summer.

In the Mohawk Valley, the months of June, July and August are liking waking up from a horrible collective nightmare. All the rest of the long year is slogging through snow and frost and sleet and waking up in the dark and heading home from work in the dark. Everyone burrows into their homes. I only go out to go to work or walk the dogs and absolutely no one shovels, not even businesses. A blanket depression settles over the city. There is one thing that keeps me from going totally Donner Party, Hunting For Books.

I spend the winter scouring the internet for books to buy and hoard until I can part with them for hopefully a small profit. It gives me a wild satisfaction and its usually just enough money to support my craving to buy more books. There is no such thing as a garage sale in Utica in the wintertime. Very few estate/moving sales too, but in spring and summer they pop up like crocus ripe with promise. Maybe crocus isn't the right metaphor, because I have seen some weird stuff here. Some creepy stuff, that I now wish I had taken pictures of. Utica isn't like anywhere else I have ever lived.
This immediate area has been culturally and genetically isolated for decades. The '80s and '90s saw a huge population drop and anyone without connection to the area fled. The remaining Utica natives, and by that I mostly refer to the second and third generation Italian and Polish families, have entrenched themselves as an unofficial higher cast. There is a distinct Utica accent, special Utica only foods, easily identifiable Utica facial traits, a fond remembrance of the Italian mafia, supposedly not active here anymore, and a 'friends and family' system of government which I believe is a direct result of the former.
As an outsider but with an Italian last name I can get by, although sometimes I get weird looks and asked if I'm really Italian. Technically neither are they. I don't mention that.
All that was a long way of saying that sometimes I go to a house sale and its like stepping back in time and into another country/dimension. Sometimes I remember to take a photo and I'll be putting them here, in this blog. Also, sometimes I find some really cool stuff and I feel like sharing. I'm also going to be documenting how to speak Utican, eat Utican, and stuff that generally fascinates or repels me about this area. Oh and weird stuff I find in books.
How's about we start with what I hope to be the first in a continuing series I am calling I don't need to spell it to sell it.