Soundtrack to Mairi

1.  When I was a kid, we went to the public library like other people I knew went to church: every Sunday and with a devotion that was downright reverential. I may've dressed up. I don't remember. I wouldn't be out of place with the feeling of the memory to've worn patent leather shoes and little gloves and a hat but I'm sure I didn't. I went there when I was that kid with her face smooshed up against every peephole in the diorama cabinet. And I went there when I was that teenager still giddy over the soundless pull of a card catalogue drawer and the velvety feel of the tops of all the cards touched by... how many hands before me? The Friends of the Library book sales were practically high holy weekends.

2. As a teenager I came across this book. It was a book about books. The title isn't important. This was back when there were little pockets with dated cards in them, recording everyone who checked it out and when. It hadn't been checked out in forever. I don't remember how long now. What would forever have been to seventeen-year-old me? Ten years? Fifteen? More? As far as I could tell, it hadn't even been touched in forever. It was dusty. The ink on the card was faded. The pages were already starting to have that beautiful, dying book, library smell. The cover was embossed fabric, worn through to the pressboard in places. The call number was drawn on the spine in fine white paint. It was maybe a year or two away from the dollar day at the Friends of the Library book sale. I wouldn't say I stole it, exactly. I mean, I paid for it. But I didn't really lose it like I told them I did. I just couldn't let it sit there another year, dusty and untouched. 

3. A few years ago, I started keeping track of the books I read. In addition to what I read, I also kept track of how I came by the book. Was it new? Used? Found? Gift? A reread of one I already had? Borrowed from a friend? From the library? Much to my dismay, I discovered that first year of tracking that I hadn't checked out a single book from the library. Quite the wake up call. I've practically worn my library card out since then. I still keep track of what I've read and even write up little reviews that I share with friends but I don't keep track of where they came from anymore. I have a lot of tools in my reader's tool box and I certainly go through phases favoring one or another but I'm confident I use them all pretty evenly. 

4. I checked out September's book club book from the library. It's been around the block a few times. The page edges are frayed like the tops of the card catalog cards, the corners are rounded, and the protective plastic coating is curling off. I really enjoyed the book and will probably acquire a copy for myself. I think I'll read it again and the list of people I know who I want to tell about it just keeps getting longer. I like this one. It smells right; the corner of page 377 has a little extra paper on it; it looks loved. But I won't ahemlose this one. I'll return it so someone else can read it. I'll keep checking used book stores until I either have it or want to reread it right that second.

5. I looked for it today at this year's Friends of the Library Big Book Sale. Well, as much as one can look for anything in a convention hall full of tables overflowing with loosely-organized books. With that sort of soft-eyed glance, not really looking but letting the visual information come and go with minimal inspection and my brain on standby to let me know if it sees anything that looks familiar. Sometimes I'd have to go back four or six feet along the table to see what had triggered recognition. I didn't find anything I was actually looking for but I didn't leave empty-handed either. I got extra copies of a few books that I loan out regularly and sometimes don't see come back. I picked up a book by a favorite author that I don't have that edition of (the later edition has more material but I'm a little completist when it comes to her.) I snagged one book that's been highly recommended based on my enjoyment of this month's book club book and another I keep meaning to read. All In all, I was surprisingly restrained, especially considering today was dollar day. 

She collects elephants. Sort of obsessively. Circus-themed things are always dangerous to my/her/our wallets.

Her: I’ve noticed that my reaction to wanting to learn something new is increasingly, “I need books about that!” And not even just stuff that would make sense for book-learning. I mean, like, contemporary dance or playing drums.

Me: Nope. Not my kid. [/so much sarcasm]