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.
