| Categories |
 |
|
| Recently Acquired |
|
|
| Quick Find |
|
|
| Information |
|
|
|
|
A Message From Mark! |
 |
|
|
|
|
Hello, and welcome to catalog #214.
As usual, there are several news items I'd like to go over, I have a few personal observations I'd like to share, and I even have a story I think you good folks might find entertaining But first, the news:
We have a new addition to our family. It's a dog. Yes, we already had a dog. When our friend's golden retreiver gave birth to a litter of seven puppies a while back Cindy had to check 'em out. I thought that was fine. However, I absolutely forbid her to bring one of them home. I was quite emphatic about this. Sometimes, even the most benevolent ruler has to rule with an iron hand. She brought one home anyway. It's almost as if Cindy feels she can do and say whatever she likes and I'll just roll with it. Like she's the boss of me or something. After a very stern and frightening reprimand, "Gee whiz, Honey, I thought I asked you not to bring one home," the eight week old dog was placed in my arms. Roughly two minutes later I was madly in love and now I can no longer live without this dog in my life. We still haven't named her, but we're leaning toward Roz. The new dog likes to sleep in the office by our other golden retreiver J.D. They've become fast friends and playmates and Cindy and I have become very adept at navigating the office without stepping on a dog or knocking over a pile of books. You should find a picture or two of Roz in these pages somewhere. Imagine. . . Cindy bending me to her will like that. Incredible.
The principle of the local junior high school called me recently. Big surprise, no teacher at the school wants anything to do with the basketball program again this year. He very calmly told me that either I coach the team once again or twelve enthusiastic boys will have to "do without." Remember, we are by far the smallest school in the league, none of these kids (except for two who played for me last year) have ever played organized ball before and the awesome Black Butte Bobcats haven't won a league game in many, many years. These kids are the consumate underdogs and their silly (old, bald and beat-up) coach can relate all too readily. May the Great Spirit help us and help us a lot. Reports of all the horrors that befall us this year will follow.
It's Tom Zummer that provided our cover once again. Our thanks to Tom for continuing to provide us with tremendous cover art.
I don't want to talk about the economy, the state of the union or matters relating to fiscal vitality. However, I should point out that books are real. They'e tangible. You can hold 'em and you can read 'em and you can pass them along to your kids or trade them in with your favorite bookseller. Many of them, especially small presses, limited editions, imports and the like, appreciate in value steadily. Had some of these folks that invested in financial institutions invested in books instead - they'd be in much better shape both from a literary standpoint and a financial one. My objective suggestion for weathering financial mishaps: invest in books - massive quantities of books.
Books might very well be the answer to some of your holiday gift-giving plans as well. Please remember that we not only offer the books listed in these pages, we're also happy to special order virtually any book in print and we can oftentimes provide out of print books as well. Gift certificates are also an option, gift wrapping is a service we happily provide, and we will gladly drop ship your gifts (or gift certificates) to any destination in the world. Books, the gift you can open more than once.
Went deep into the woods last week for the purpose of securing more firewood. Up here, you can get a permit from the U.S. Forest Service to scrounge wood in designated areas. Terrific. I went with a friend and I took our dog, J.D. We found a couple standing dead trees, lodgepole pine - my favorite. My friend is a better timber feller that I, so I held J.D. while my buddy dropped this big tree. J.D. is the kind of dog that's afraid of his own shadow. Loud noises scare the fur off his back. So, like I said, I held J.D. until the tree came down then I patted him on the head, told him everything was okay and generally tried to help him relax. Then I turned him loose. He was off like a bullet. Nio big deal, J.D. has been in the woods many times and I figured he'd just run around a bit and come back. I began to limb the fallen tree and to buck it up for loading. Ten minutes later I noticed J.D. wasn't around. I stopped and called him. Nothing. I did some more limbing and bucking and stopped again in another fifteen minutes or so. No J.D. My friend stopped. We started walking around the wood lot calling J.D. Nothing. I got in my truck and drove up and down the liogging road we were on for a mile or so in each direction. Nothing. I loaded some wood thinking J.D. would come back eventually. A couple hours later - still no J.D. Now I'm somewhat panic-stricken. I'm driving down the logging roads honking the horn, tears streaming, voice horse from calling and calling. I stop and talk to any other people I encounter and enlist their aid in looking for J.D. I begin to make plans to camp near the wood lot for the night. I can't abandon J.D. I don't want to go home without him. Cindy will kill me. Roughly three and a half hours after J.D. disappears he reappears. He's absolutely gonzo. The 90-pound dog tries to jump in my arms and we roll around on the sticks and pineneedles reafirming our love for each other. J.D. is a stupid bozo and a royal pain in the ass, but I love him with all my heart.
Saw a interesting show on the Discovery Channel. It was one of those lost tribe deals. This small band of humanity lived in a location so remote that they were virtually unknown to, and untouched by, modern man and all the technological stuff that comes with him. The folks producing the documentary were very careful not to infect this tribe with disease or with technology. They were also very vague about their exact location. They seemed genuinely more interested in protecting these people than exploiting them. A young man with curly red hair explained that his investigations of this tribe and the associated cinematic documentation of their lives was at an end. He just wanted his viewers to know that this community was there. He seemed to take comfort in their mere existence. Might it be that the small business, the mom and pop type people in the world, have something in common with a lost tribe? Can the isolated and the antiquated continue to survive? Can Main Street ever mean more than Wall Street? I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but I thought I'd share my fantasy with our friends. I think Cindy and I, along with a great many other independent merchants, may have many things in common with these lost tribes. Okay, so I don't look so good in a loin cloth, but I do feel like we persist in a lifestyle and a business ethic much more in keeping with those that live off the grid and removed from the mainstream. It's my contention that this is a good thing. I'm certainly happier in this circumstance and Cindy and I are proud and pleased that a good number of devoted adventurers and non-traditional consumers are willing to make the trek (virtual or otherwise) to our remote hangout. You folks must feel good just knowing we're here too. After all, you've given us fiscal, psychological and spiritual support for many years. We're grateful. You all are welcome at our campfire and in our wood lot. Thank you for helping to insure our continued survival. May the Great Spirit shine a blinding and glorious light on all of us - and help us keep track of squirrely dogs.
Peace and Love,
Mark & Cindy
|
|
|
|
|
| 0 items |
|
|
|
| Log In |
|
|
| Bestsellers |
|
|
|
