Which reminds me of a story. . .
While listing a hard-to-find 1950s Gold Medal paperback earlier today, which was loaded with creases, I recalled a customer transaction which I had witnessed in the mid-1980s (how could that already be nearly 40 years ago?!?), at a comic book store that my (then) middle-school son and I regularly frequented in the rougher section of downtown St. Paul, MN.
The proprietor was slightly older than me, another one of those nostalgia buffs who had survived a post-World War II childhood with not only fond memories of all the toys and comic books which we actually had owned, but with a hungry gnawing in our bellies for all those toys and comic books which had never had the decency to land in our possession. And so -- of course -- the proprietor (John) opened up his own comic book store, to recapture a youth he'd once known, as well as a youth that hadn't been.
And, being the good salesman that he was, John would also honor the want-lists from other similarly nostalgia-enslaved customers, perpetually chained to the warm and comforting mental fires of their past -- and hunting -- always hunting! -- for that one elusive item that would forever set them free. And such a customer had entered John's shop that morning, while my son and I were shopping.
The truck-driver (for that's what he was) clumped in wearing black, twisted engineer boots, topped over by faded blue-jeans held at the waist by a wide leather belt with (I swear it's true) a gold Roy Rogers belt-buckle. The shirt that failed to keep his upper body entirely covered was festooned with various pin-backs, some of which were even passingly polite (but not many). Plus the requisite stetson holding his head from shooting off into the clouds, while driver juggled a burning cigarette from between his beard, and growled: "Understand that issue of ROY ROGER COMICS that I ordered came in."
John nodded. "Sure -- right behind the counter."
John rang him up -- about $240.00, plus tax.
"Okay -- thanks," replied the driver -- and folded the comic book in half, and tucked it in his right boot.
From Very Good Plus to Near Fine Minus, right down to Good Minus -- in seconds flat.
And walked out the door -- still puffing his cigarette.
John looked at me. I looked at John. And we both shook our heads.
You just can't make those things up.
femmefan1946
·2 years agoThere are those who read books and there are those who collect books.
They are not always the same person.
I had a friend who collected Gulliver's Travels, a title that has been available for hundreds of years and hundreds perhaps thousands of editions.
He had so many different copies that his house had to be reinforced to take the weight of all the books.
chapeau-noir
·2 years agoSwift probably could have made a good chapter out of that.
1786davycrockett
OP2 years ago@chapeau-noir
So -- do you think that @femmefan1946's friend would have been referred to as one of the original "Swifties"?
Speaking of which -- do any of you old-timers recall those 1960s "Swifty" jokes, based on the Tom Swift books?
Example -- "Happy Valentine's Day!" exclaimed Tom, heartily.
lastade*
·2 years agoI love your story about collecting and how it keeps people "perpetually chained to the warm and comforting mental fires of their past." This just reminds us that some people are just happy to have something that they always wanted, no matter the condition if it satisfies their nostalgic needs. I sell old craft patterns and some of them can get pretty tattered. I always wonder if I should throw them away but there is always someone who is looking for a specific pattern that their grandma made for them when they were little. It is part of the reason I started selling patterns online in the first place. I love looking at them and they remind me of the things made in the past by me and other family members. I am glad I am a seller of nostalgia. I get to sell to other people that like the same thing I do and rarely have any problems like some I read about in the forums.