Silly old knight, that can't be right
Now that's silly, having a weekend Used Book Sale with the sign ``No Loitering.'' The point of used books is loitering. The tent had a properly heterogenous mix, Jim Bishop's paperback A Day In The Life Of President Kennedy alongside an aggressively coffee-table book like Support and Seduction: A History of Corsets and Bras (there's days I feel I'm the only male who doesn't find breasts the most fascinating thing ever; but I know there are three others). Two people giggled over the coffee-table Roman Sex. The Romans, of course, invented Tapestries Muck.
They had wonderfully futile sections, Fred Hoyle's The Black Cloud in Romance, and Nintendo Game Tips in Science Fiction. I got some Asimov nonfiction, the Best of Edmond Hamilton, a book on skyscrapers, and Thea Alexander's 2150 A.D., which looks endearingly 1975. The Author page says Thea has a ``graduate degree in Counseling from Gannon College'' and is director of ``The Macro Society, not to be confused with other groups using the word `Macro' as part of their name.'' The cover promises ``A new kind of man -- a new kind of woman -- a new kind of love.'' I can't wait.
My heart was won by the 1982 Guinness Book of World Records. My fifth-grade teacher gave me one, reward for cleaning out every SRA reading kit box two months before the year was over. That copy I wore down and broke and lost half, so having a surrogate is the unadulterated joy of an intimate piece of childhood caught.
There was one girl there wearing white felt bunny ears. I don't know why.
Trivia: 1944 and 1969 had no lunar eclipses. Source: 1982 Guinness Book of World Records, Norris McWirther.
Currently Reading: Revolutions of 1848: A Social History, Priscilla Robertson.